A Call To Arms
For the past year, since Bowie passed, I've been trying to wrap my brain around an idea, and expand on it... everytime I forget about it, it pops prevalently into my vision again with someone else passing away.  Some of these folks were personal friends, some idols, some random celebrities, but ALL were trailblazers. 

I am Pagan, that will show through on this post, if you do not share beliefs in the same gods as I do, or are an Atheist, I appreciate your reading with an open mind.

This year has been a difficult year for those who follow pop culture, death after death, seemingly none could be avoided.

I've been thinking a lot about the concepts of lost and found.  Things lost, sometimes for 14 years, then magickally returned to your hand.

I hear Bowie, Prince, Michael Wiggins, Muhammed Ali and many others from beyond the veil.  They say to us, "IT IS YOUR TIME NOW."

So, where are the trailblazers?  Where are the brave men and women who rise up and say what needs to be said; create art where silence was before, create acceptance where none was before, construct a clear vision of the life that they wanted not only for themselves, but for the generations beyond them.

They call to us "Now is your time."  And here I am, my proverbial inkwell, empty?

To be struck dumb and mute by these repeated deaths-as-a-lesson, and not speak up...  To say nothing, to just keep going on as though the world is the same, is NOT what these deaths were for.

We must rise to fill the rifts created by their absence.

So many pieces of me have changed in the past 2 months.

I gained back my self confidence, it wavers a bit here and there, but it's back.

My daughter is back "home", not with me but with my Mother where her live has stabilized.  No more crazy whopper tales.  The subversions were ways of keeping her out of trouble with her Father.  She is making new friends slowly, setting up and re-establishing her room.

We attempted to see her brothers, (my sons) and were told that the new parents were "Changing the Narrative" of my son's lives, and that my life had no place in it.  Yes, brainwashing.  Plain and Simple.  I have no idea what to do, I've done spells, I've lit candles, I've changed my narrative as well.  It has made no difference, except that I now I get thank you cards from my ex mother in law through Amazon when I send her gifts for her birthday or Mother's day.  (We are family regardless of how angry anyone is with anyone else.)

My faith lies in the truth always coming out in the wash.  In a few years, I anticipate questions from 3 very curious little men.  In the meantime, I will show up to any event that I know about ahead of time, and try to stay out of the way.

Just silently being in the background is enough for my children to know I am there.

It took 14 years, but my daughter finally figured out the truth about her Father without me telling her.  My sons are no different.

I am simultaneously broken down and built up.  It's no longer a question of IF I have the strength to survive the bullshit, it's a matter of WHEN I get to move on from it.  When I take those steps, whatever those steps are.

But how does one stand in their own strength knowing that vital pieces of you are floating in the universe and not tied down? 

You just do, and you have faith that the rushing waters will lead them to safety.

I hear ya Bowie, Prince, Michael, Ali...  I will take my place amongst the stars.


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