I've begun packing

This weekend I've been thinking of writing recipes for chamomile (inspired by a Got Peace? bumper sticker) and ginger to fight the nausea of this next stage of divorce. That's ginger in the image to the left. Instead I guess I'm living the need and then I'll write the ritual to move out of the discomfort.

I've begun packing. Choosing which pictures to take from the walls, trying not to leave too many holes in the walls, because, well somehow I want to try to make everyone feel like this transition is natural and okay - just as natural as Kevin and I drifting apart. No one to blame, just life. And then it's my son's 10th bday on Friday, and we really don't need to stir up any extra drama. So I'll postpone the ripping down of the rest of the wall hangings until waaay after the slumber party.

Still the process must begin.

The U-Haul boxes were stacked in the rafters in the attic. I stood on a chair and poked the boxes with a broom to make them fall down. On top of the boxes was a slightly familiar blue bag, which came tumbling down with the boxes. It was my wedding dress, spilling out of the bag. I thought about getting all sentimental and saving it, but then realized my daughter Ali would never be caught dead wearing this poofy early 90's number, so I threw it in the Salvation Army pile. That was rather empowering and healing.

I packed up my most magickal items that have been stored in a very pretty pine Mexican armoir with inlaid calla lilies. I thought of my high priestess Connie and how we burned all her magickal items in a big bonfire at her funeral. I remembered the times when I was more immersed in my magick and herbal lore... before everything went sideways and how after that most of my attention went to keeping my family together. I became the glue until it was broken beyond repair.

I packed boxes of clothes and books and hid the boxes under tapestries and blankets in closets, so hopefully the kids won't see these boxes everywhere and feel they are being abandoned by mama. I don't know that they will. My eldest looked at my trinkets and asked how all this was going to fit in the small place we were moving to. Time for a garage sale, I said.

Seriously this kind of pressure is definite birth control.

There was a family party today. In other words about 30 people, mas o menos. Some of the aunties asked where Kevin was. I said, probably with his girlfriend before I could stop myself and so I had to explain... They congratulated me. Said it was a long time coming. I'm going to be okay.

True story: security is over-rated. That is certain. And I can honestly say I do feel quite alive right now. I guess my strongest rocket of desire in this moment would be to focus more on the exhileration than the fear, more on the possibilities than the guilt, more trust in the unknown...

Isn't that life?