Silent anguish, silent joy

It’s only been a few days since I last wrote on my blog, and yet it seems like at least a week. I have been focused on meeting a Wiccan today. A man, which in itself is a novelty. I can’t say much, if anything, about the meeting, except that it has potential to take me places I haven’t been and to explore depths of ritual that were previously beyond my reach. We shall see.
My pagan life has grown multiple legs this year and is running for the joy of movement. So many valuable contacts … pfutsch! Next I will say I am networking. Ugh! No, not contacts. Friends. But friends with connections, ideas, creativity and experience that they are kindly starting to share with me. As my pagan life explodes in a community of likemindedness, the isolation I felt spiritually shifts to my mundane life. I am still in-the-broom-closet as a witch. Most of my family don’t know. My work colleagues don’t know (that’s fine as we are separated by the Channel and France!). And there are still friends who don’t know because I know that for their own religious reasons they won’t accept my chosen path. So whereas my self-expression is blossoming paganly (nice made-up adjective, like a comely woman … a paganly woman …), mundanely I am experiencing a certain barrenness.
This personality split is not good for me. I have been here before in my last relationship. Nobody knew about the abuse or what went on in the relationship, and I daren’t speak of other friends to my ex because that would give him ammunition to turn again me. If I spoke about working with a male colleague it would mean I was having an affair with him. If I spoke about a female friend, it would mean that she had sexual designs on me, and he repeatedly told me I was too weak to resist anyone, so everyone was a threat in his eyes. I was silent at home for fear that he would misinterpret something I said and beat me with it. And I was silent to my friends because if they knew what was happening I would have to face what was happening, and I wasn’t ready. Secrets and buried emotions bound the split - like having a tight corset laced by barbed wire. I don’t want to go there again. There are secrets in the craft that shall remain secrets because they bind groups, express the inexpressible, are experiential or for whatever reason. I can live with that. But I am struggling with the joy in my pagan life which I have to hide and cover from critical tongues that take none of this seriously, or that would say what I’m doing will take me straight to hell. This is the most precious and important thing in my life - this is the meaning of life for me, to be a witch, to live my spirituality. And yet some people treat it like a quaint hobby, or would cut me off if I confessed my secret. I’m angry that I am being made to feel that this is a dirty, little secret to be ashamed of, when this is what gives me strength to live and love. It gives a reason for my compassion, a focus for my creativity and is The Source of my life.
I don’t know where I go from here. It’s not an easy situation solved by “just coming out of the broom closet”. It’s not solved by saying, “If they really loved you, they would accept you”; love and relationships are more complex than that. For now, I will stay quiet … Goddammit, perpetuate that silence that seems to pervade my life. At least I have my writing. Even as I choke on the words I want to say mundanely, I can speak openly in circle, and I can write anonymously. That will have to suffice for now. But it’s not enough, is it …?
© starofseshat 2008

Egyptian Love Poetry II

Oh, how my heart beats fast
When I think of my love for him!
It beats not like a human heart,
It jumps like a beast.

It stays my hand when dressing,
And stops me reaching for my fan.
It keeps me from rubbing kohl around my eyes
And holds me back from oiling my body.

“Do not delay meeting with your heart’s desire,”
It says to me as often as I think of him.
Don’t act like a fool, my heart,
Why do you worry me so?

Stay calm. Your lover will come to you
But the eyes of the many will also be on you.
Let it not be said,
“She is a woman in the grip of love!”
Stay firm whenever you think of him,
My heart, do not beat so in my breast!

☼

My heart draws close to you
As I lie in your arms,
I wish to touch you in ways my heart desires.

My eyes are coloured by the wish to look on you.
You make my eyes bright.
I press myself against you to feel your love,
you are the most precious thing to my heart!

How sweet this hour with you,
I wish the hour was an eternity!
My heart has been raised up
By sleeping with you.

Whether in sorrow or joy -
do not leave me!

 

[From the Harris 500 Papyrus Songs]

© starofseshat 2008

Inverse statue - kundalini

I have been practising yoga for 16 years. Self-taught through multiple books and intuition. I only had one actual lesson from a German woman who had just returned from an ashram in India. For all my body/mind split, I have a good sense of body movement, great balance and phenomenal flexibility. When I went to the rheumatology clinic for the pain in my hips, I was put through my flexibility paces. When told to ‘try and touch my toes’, I flopped into a palms-on-the-floor position. The rheumatologist exclaimed and told me not to push myself, and as much as I insisted that I wasn’t straining, she wouldn’t believe me. She dotted a couple of marks on my back and measured up my spine, declaring that I had above average flexibility. I felt slightly cheated because I didn’t feel I was at my most flexible. I wanted to ask if I could practise and come back for a re-test! It’s nice to be above average in something, even if it is flexibility - a hidden talent that only a choice few get to witness
For the last ten years I have had an unusual spot of heat at the base of my spine. It is a circular patch of intense heat that is not uncomfortable to me. When others touch the spot they say the heat is unpleasant and remove their hands as quickly as possible. The rest of my body is always cool. I had suspected kundalini for a while, and the suggestion was made to me again recently. I didn’t know much about kundalini - that source of energy and enlightenment sitting at the base of the spine, waiting for a moment to snake up and grant a higher state of awareness and being. I am learning more.
I recently bought a kundalini yoga DVD which I browsed through this afternoon. I wanted to get an idea of the expectations and level before jumping straight in. I was riveted and overcome with an even more intense level of excitement than seems to be my norm these days. This is it! I thought. I was stunned at how entirely different kundalini yoga is from the asanas I have learnt so far. The combination of breathing, mantras, visualisation and vibrant movement looked ecstatic and wonderful. Some of it made me laugh out loud, the panting and repetitive movement, ‘like riding a camel’ the voiceover said. Yeah, right. A camel… I wanted to start right there, right then. But I had just had a cup of tea and I could imagine it glooping around my stomach. So, tomorrow morning I shall do my usual asanas and then after I have finished my day’s work, I shall do an hour of kundalini yoga. From the look of it I will either pass out, or be spaced out by the end, or (as is the tendency at the moment) I shall be on such a physical buzzing high that I will barely be able to contain myself.
This is a strange time for me. I’ve been told I look more like myself. And I just want to shout, no! From the inside I have never looked like this before. This is unknown territory for me. I am approaching a wholeness I didn’t know existed. It’s terrifying and wonderful. Terrifying because I don’t know where such feelings will take me, and wonderful because I feel alive, in tune, intensely present. The only thing that mars the moment is that I also have a sense of encapsulation - caught inside self-made barriers, my boundaries are solid and unmoving. I think I am jealously protecting this energy, I daren’t let it escape me by careless spillage on to others who will squander the feeling. I’m living all this through my head and my body, and there is little connection and contact with others on a visceral level. I still have a sense of speaking through glass when it comes to the essentials, to my spiritual heart that is speaking with a voice that only I can hear. Occasionally I get a glimpse of what it’s like to share this voice - intoxicating and once again terrifying. Such vulnerability undermines the bouncing, bounding strength that I’m feeling. The need to share, to be known and heard. My Achilles heel that could send me crashing. And yet I’m being encouraged to go with the flow, to follow my strength and connect through that vulnerability, which represents the most inflexible part of my soul - rigid vulnerability, a solid core of fear. Like an inverse statue I am chiselling away at the core to find the true shape and form that will dictate the outside of my being. Slowly, slowly the fire of my energy will melt away the dross and reveal … the ultimate alchemy. My true self.
© starofseshat 2008

Recommended lecture series

Courses on Paganism, Magic, Mythology, Ritual and Witchcraft

Session 2008 –2009

tutored by Kenneth Rees

 

(For further info/full course outlines: kenrees@talktalk.net  or ph. 020 8671 6372 -       note that one class may be taken free as a guest)

 

Autumn term

 

1.      Mythology, Folklore and Witchcraft

An introduction to the Wheel of the Year and the pagan festival cycle. Alternative archaeology and earth mysteries research - the Neolithic legacy, ancient sites and their puzzles, ley-lines, geomancy, etc; the Celts, - their culture, religion and priesthood - the ancient Druids.  Samhain - the Celtic day of the dead, its levels of meaning; Yule, the Winter Solstice - the pagan roots of Christmas.

 

10 weeks course starting - Thursday 25 Sept 08  7.00 – 9.00 pm

at Kensington & Chelsea College, Holland Park Centre, Airlie Gdns, London W8

Fees: £94.00 Concessions £31.00   Enrolment – 020 7573 5333                      www.kcc.ac.uk

 

2.      Ritual: its Relevance and Resonances

We explore the role of ritual across different cultures including its magical, mythic, celebratory and cathartic expressions, using anthropology, shamanism and psychology. Many perspectives on ritual point to the value of ritual action both for society as a whole and for the individual. We will discuss the consequences for modern society of a progressive loss of ritual experience and consider the case for its urgent reclamation.

 

11 week course, starting - Monday 22^nd  Sept 08   12.35 - 14.35

      at The City Literary Institute, Keeley Street, London WC2                           

Fees:  £97.00 Snr. £59.00 Concs. £29 .00   Enrolment – 020 7831 7831     www.citylit.ac.uk

 

3.      The Magical Consciousness

There is a long and honourable tradition across cultures of alternative ways of thinking to the dominant Western paradigm of rationality.  This has often been expressed through various philosophies of magic and Neo-Platonism. We explore some of these esoteric perspectives including the kabbalah, alchemy, Renaissance Hermeticism and the Rosicrucian enlightenment. .

 

6 week course starting - Tuesday 23^rd  Sept 08   8.00 -10.00 pm

at The Mary Ward Centre, 42 Queen Square, London WC1       

Fees: £44.00 Concs. £13.00   Enrolment – 020 7269 6000/6005  www.marywardcentre.ac.uk

 

4.      Magicians of the West

We look at representatives of the magical consciousness – the founding fathers, Marsilio Ficino, Giordano Bruno, Paracelsus, John Dee; the founding mothers, Lady Anne Conway, Anna Kingsford, H.P. Blavatsky, Dion Fortune. Plus the Order of the Golden Dawn and Aleister Crowley.

 

6 week course starting – Tuesday - 4th November 2008   8.00-10.00 pm

at The Mary Ward Centre,  42 Queen Square, London WC1

Fees: £44.00  Concs. £13.00   Enrolment – 020 7269 6000/6005  www.marywardcentre.ac.uk

 

5.      Myth, Magic and the Hermetic Imagination

We look at Hermeticism and the Renaissance magi – Bruno, Pico, Ficino et al; learn about the hermetic arts of alchemy, kabbalah and so on; meet magicians of the Elizabethan age e.g. John Dee, Robert Fludd and trace the shift from magic to science. .

 

Saturday School, 29th Nov 2008  10.30- 16.30

at The City Literary Institute, Keeley Street, London WC2                        

Fees: £31.00  Snr £19.00   Concs. £10.00   Enrolment – 020 7831 7831       www.citylit.ac.uk

Flesh and wine

This week has been a whirlwind of interesting meetings, connections and revelations. People have said things to me this week that have echoed and resounded inside of me, bouncing off corners and reflecting off all my other thoughts. The one phrase came from marya, that “Flesh is power”. This was said in the context of talking about the greater acceptance, in fact admiration, in Africa of larger women - as opposed to the Western fascination with less and less is more. When she said those words to me I felt like I was hit by a thunderbolt. Not just in terms of opening up a concept of acceptance that is denied to me, but in terms of everything fleshy. Flesh is power - this phrase honours the body in a way that I have struggled to comprehend. I come from a background of bodily denial and loathing of all things fleshy because it separates us from God. Struggling up from the stinking morass of such a belief takes effort and time. These days I feel I have reached the top of the pit and am peering at the landscape before me and absolutely aching to drag myself over the edge. Now is crucial - either I slip and fall deeper into the morass, or I succeed - and maybe find an outstretched hand - to pull me into the world. Flesh is power. My body is not a source of weakness but strength. Even flawed and ill, I still have my power.
The other phrase was from my dear TGW who in conversation made me realise something amazing: that the tremendous kick and high from being in love, the feeling of being both omnipotent and utterly fragile all at the same time, is us seeing a reflection of ourselves in the eyes of another. I have always believed I had nothing to offer, this puts my lover into a position of power, because they give me this amazing feeling - I need them. Suddenly I saw that no, this is me I am seeing. When I am made to feel desirable it is because there is something in me to be desired. The other person is not projecting both the origin and focus of desire on to me, he is reflecting me, just as I reflect his beauty back at him. Handing over power to him very much consolidates a feeling of being used; he (abstract ‘he’ not a ‘he’ in particular) has sexual feelings and uses me to satisfy himself, because I am there. I am a mere container. An empty one. This is how I have felt up to now. No wonder my heart has felt battered. But now, through TGW’s words I have been able to see that I am actually a full container, and that ‘he’ comes to me because ‘he’ wishes to drink from me. I don’t need ‘him’ for this feeling, because the source is within me. Sharing ourselves and satisfying our thirsts, like linking arms to drink wine - this is the secret of love, and the power of the flesh.
© starofseshat 2008

Catching the scent

Yesterday I met with marya from A Spell in Wales. A fortuitous meeting if ever there was one. I am amazed by the number of enriching people who are entering my life. I was talking to an old friend yesterday about these myriad blessings, and she replied, “About time too!”. We both pondered and realised that my time of struggle and heartache stretches back 10 years and then trickles back even further. Yes, time indeed that I come into myself.
I have heard pagans decry the internet culture as a superficial, artificial place where people play at being pagans, act the part, live through the cyber reality without actually taking that pagan presence into their everyday lives and living as pagans. I think this is hugely unfair, and extremely ironic, considering that these pagans use the internet to voice their criticism. We are all people with histories, experiences, limitations and creative voices. Some are damaged and reach out only to bully from a place of cowardly anonymity, but others are true seekers.
I was alone on my path apart from occasional contacts that I absolutely didn’t want to prolong. Through the internet I have met some truly likeminded beings. So far, I have managed to meet nearly all in person. There is a fear that the spark you share through the typed word may dissipate and fizzle in a mismatched chemistry when you actually meet and get the smell of each other. That animal sense that kicks in and says ‘run’, this person is not for you. But the opposite has been the case and as I have met these witches, my inner being has sighed at the sight of them. The animal in me has started to purr and my spirit wants to rub itself against theirs to merge our scents for a time and enjoy the presence of another who is no longer ‘Other’.
This awareness of my animal spirit is proving to be interesting. As I am connecting deeper and deeper with her, I am learning to trust my instincts and to harness her power to defend myself. Like a cross cat, I am learning to swipe out when disturbed, and sometimes I may swipe and scratch too soon, but this has to be preferable to my past response of playing dead and letting myself be kicked around the floor. At times my human body feels like a transparent shell over a leopard sitting within me. She is me and I am her. By getting to know her, I know myself. And I like her. In fact I love everything about her - her strength, her serenity, her playfulness and protectiveness. She is a focused bundle of power just waiting to explode, waiting to run and stretch her legs, race the wind. She eyes me with patience, but it is patience with an expectation. I don’t have forever, she is there and waiting because I am ready. I now need to learn to pull on her skin and become what I already am.
© starofseshat 2008

Joy of the waxing moon

This evening The Green Witch and I did a working. We both had high hopes for the evening and we weren’t disappointed. TGW found me “cross-eyed” (in her words) when she arrived, and I think it was more than that twisted inside me. Only now that I can breathe and my chest is clear do I realise that I wasn’t breathing properly beforehand. I have been floating on a cloud for the last few weeks. Wonderful. Vertigo. But oh-so temporary. The trick is to see when the cloud is thinning and jump to land before you fall. I hope I have managed that jump. I feel fully, entirely, powerfully me again. Actually no, not again, for the first time - this is a new place, and new step I have taken, and this evening’s ritual has consolidated that. I have taken the strength of the circle with me. And Sobek will protect me.
The details of the working are unimportant to anyone else but us, but a lot of hard work was done this evening. The circle became a microcosm of everything bigger than us. It became manageable, visible - I could hold it in my hand and test it in the fire. And I saw through it. What was opaque is now clear.
THIS is the power of ritual - transformation, empowerment (on all levels), clarity and utter joy that I am walking this path (and lucky enough to walk alongside another likeminded person). Having been here, I could never go back. I have gone too far, felt too much and have a compulsion to know and do so much more. I am blessed. I am priestess of my Goddess. I am the leopard at the heels of my God. I AM.
© starofseshat 2008

Now you see me, now you don’t

All morning it had been sheeting down with rain, so to go to the shops I pulled on my supersize poncho rain jacket and hood … and stepped out into glorious sunshine with the paths and roads already drying up. C’est la vie. On my way to the local shop I passed a workman who gave me a rather too enthusiastic wink and look up-and-down (in spite of said oversized green poncho!). So I decided to take the long way back over the hill, which got me thinking.
A while ago I read a book by a wizard that dealt (sparsely and badly) with various wizardry topics; one of which was invisibility. In the book this wizard talked of various psychological techniques to basically make you slip off the radar as far as other people are concerned; that this is the real trick of invisibility. The wizard rounded off in typical sardonic humour with a photo: I’m in the picture, but invisible. Can you see me? Oh, big boring sigh and yawn. You are in the picture because you are taking the picture, hence making you an integral part of the picture, hence making you invisible. Semantics - the favourite past-time of the wizard.
I suggested to a friend that if this wizard wanted to be invisible she should just put on 3 stone. Three stone ago I was invisible to at least half the populace, the male half. It’s difficult to explain this invisibility. Even when you are being looked at, you are not seen. My theory is that men’s peripheral vision screens out any female mass over a certain size; once you drop below that size you warrant a glance, drop further and you warrant a ‘look’, even further and you start engaging the genital language of whistles, banal chit-chat and hand gestures. I know I’m starting to sound like a real ball-muncher … is that the right word? Ball-beater? I don’t know. Whatever a woman does to balls that a man doesn’t like … But this has just been my experience.
When I was slim, I attracted extremely intimate, pornographic comments just for walking past. When I was 3 stone heavier, I attracted nasty, demeaningly intimate comments about my body. Now I’m in-between. I am starting to attract attention again of the positive (?) kind, and I’m feeling very threatened. This is not because I am attractive. When people compliment me, they say I look well, not pretty; they compliment my dress, not me in it. I think it’s just because my size category has shifted and I am a blip on the radar again. But it is giving me a lot of food for thought being visible again; having the postman flirt instead of just thrusting my parcel at me with a grunt; having a workman clear a path through his work site for me to walk through, as opposed to being ignored and made to walk into the road… these little big things make my world perception shift. Part of me is bitter and knows the nicety is because I have a more acceptable physical appearance now, it’s nothing to do with me as a person, just me as a female body mass index. There are certain judgements that people make if you are too fat, too thin, too sexy, too dowdy, too overly much of anything. So is the skill of invisibility to make yourself nothing, to magic yourself to a cosmic zero (size zero naturally!!)? Nobody can be or should try to be a ‘nothing’, we are all something. But I guess we have to work on the kind of something. Back to (yet again) figuring out what we want, who we want to be, how we want to be, and how we wish to engage with the world.
I was speaking with a friend yesterday about a retreat I went on in Germany. The retreat focused on the story of Jona and the Whale. One excruciating part of the retreat, we were asked to act out part of the story we thought best expressed our current status in life. We were advised to use up as much of the room as we wanted, to use all our limbs and be expressive… I rammed my English hat on tightly over my brow, sat curled up in a corner and said, “I’m in the belly of the whale, I’d better stay reeaally still.” Around me people were jumping and waving their arms. One woman ran up and down the room, I think she started hopping like a rabbit (don’t ask!) and I was mesmerized by her. Oh yes, she stood out and she didn’t care. I sat from my position in the belly of the whale and I watched her fly about the room like a hungry seagull.
So where am I now? I think I’m probably tickling the whale’s tongue and staring out through his teeth, wondering if I really do want to dive out of his mouth back into the world. Will I become a fish and swim, a bird and fly, or be a fish out of water or a bird with clipped wings? Who knows, this new metamorphosis has an energy of its own. I guess I have to trust the process, draw strength from the goddess, and brace myself for becoming visible again.
© starofseshat 2008

Egyptian love poetry I

I received a book of Egyptian poetry today. Unfortunately the texts are in German, so I have translated them into English. Each translation takes us a further step from the original, but I hope the sense is retained.
How wonderful to think that thousands of years ago, men and women were experiencing the same emotions we do today. 

The voice of the swallow cried and said:
“Day has come -
when will you leave?”

I won’t, you winged creature,
You are tormenting me!
I found my lover in his chamber,
And my heart was exalted in joy.
We spoke to each other:
“I will never leave you,
We will stay hand in hand,
And when I go out,
I will be with you at every place of beauty.”
He has made me the happiest woman
And my heart is untroubled!

 

[Harris 500 Papyrus songs]

 

My God, my lotus flower, I will come with you;
it is a beautiful thing to go down to the river.
My wish is to enter the water
And to bathe before your eyes.

I will show you my beauty
In a shirt of the finest linen,
Soaked in balsam oil,
My hair tied back.

I wish to enter the water with you
and leave with a red fish
resting peacefully in my hand.
I will lay him on my breasts
while I look at your beauty,
oh my husband, my lover -
come, cast your eyes on me!

[No papyrus reference - classified under "Other songs"]

[Not too sure about the whole fish-on-the-breasts thing, but methinks it may be a euphemism (ahem) ]

And another …

The key to my heart
is there on the other side!
The river flows between us,
the flood rages at this time of the year. 

A crocodile is watching on the sandbank,
But I step into the water,
Wade through the flood,
My heart is courageous though I am in the river. 

The crocodile was as a mouse in my eyes
and the water was like land to my feet.
Your love makes me strong
as if it is a water spell cast upon me. 

Now I see you before me,

the key to my heart.

 

[No papyrus reference - classified under "Other songs"]

 

And just to show that priorities haven’t changed (beer and women!), this short line:

I kiss her and her lips open,
I am drunk from her kisses as from beer.

© starofseshat 2008

 

The Skill of Change

All areas of my life are currently undergoing change and upheavals. There have been other times when change has hit me like a sledgehammer, where within quick succession I lost two pets, had nowhere to live and was in a car crash, all while coping with my illness. That was a tough time. This is different. This is exhilarating. A friend referred to my “renaissance” and I thought that was a beautiful way of putting it. As one thing shifts, another shuffles into line. The barnacles are being chipped off my soul, and although I can’t deny that it is at times painful, it feels like the ‘good pain’ of finally scratching an itch.
I am however concerned about the effect that these changes may have on those around me. Some relationships have become focused on my illness; this creates a dynamic that will have to change. Will the other person really be willing to shift their perceptions to ‘allow’ me to be well? Or will there be a power struggle? Change in relationships (of all types – friends, lovers, family) is difficult. Many, many years ago I shocked everyone by leaving university after only being there for a week. This seemed so out of character for the person everyone thought I was, that in quick succession I lost a string of school friends who suddenly didn’t know this person standing before them. My decisions irritated them. My joy at having been true to myself offended them. And I was told by various people that I would regret it, that my plans to return in 2 years would fail, and that I had wasted a huge opportunity. My mother didn’t speak to me for a month – a clever trick considering we lived in the same house.
Over the next two years I travelled to Germany where I worked in a convent and then in a refugee home. I flew to America and spent several months amongst the Navajo. Then back to my home town where I ran an exhibition for the local cathedral over the summer before going to university. I started off with Anthropology … and changed my mind half way through the course. Sometimes finding my way is like a stumbling, lurching drunk; but at least I keep moving. I changed to German and was ultimately awarded a first class degree. Stick that in your pipes and smoke it, oh ye of little faith!
Change is often a very lonely road. It takes strength and conviction to swim against the tide. I am troubled because at times I seem to be swimming in opposite direction to those I love. But this will not stop me and eventually I hope that they will adjust to the new, improved, happier me. If I make changes that harm me, then be concerned. But if I make changes that liberate and energise me, feed a little off my courage, wait a while, and then share in my joy when you are ready to accept the changes.
When we change, these are times when we need support, a hand held, a hug. And yet, when WE change, not just when we experience change in the situations of our life (job or home), then that can herald a time of utter isolation as people look at you like you’re a stranger. And you just want to shout – but this is the real me, didn’t you see this before? Have you ever really looked at me? Suddenly the foundations of love and support that you thought your feet were resting on shift and change as well. A balancing act between self-respect and respect for the other person, because ultimately I don’t condone selfish change to spite the other. I heard about Gauguin who left his wife and children to go and paint. I know of a man who had an affair with his secretary, bought a bike and left his wife and two sons. I have seen friends change under the effect of drugs, who viewed the change as creative expression and a freeing of self when actually they were hurting those around them.
Anyone can change. Really. But it doesn’t have to be a brutal force that batters any opposition out of the way. The real power of Self is to control the force of change, to negotiate its expression and achieve a balance. I’m not suggesting the impossible of ‘doing right’ by everybody. People, habits and situations will fall by the wayside, that’s unavoidable. We’re back to the oft repeated principle of Know Thyself – know what you want, your true heart’s desire, and then apply the gentle force of love to bring it into being. This is the skill of change.
© starofseshat 2008