On my day of melancholy, I received a call from Walking Bear.. I think he knew. I never thought I’d be here, always having been so strong in my path. He spoke to me of many things important and not so. He had called to comfort me. He talked of release. Afterwards, I went to my workroom.. to me it felt quiet and dead. My plants were waning at the lack of attention. I started the trimming as I spoke to them of sorrow and of weariness. I looked around at all the things residing there, in my workroom.. those things that reflected on where I was in this path. I looked at the pieces of old.. those gifted from friends no longer seen and those gifted to me from the ones of my life since. Sometimes you have to make a solid break to move forward. The reminders of what parts of me that I’ve left behind mingling with bits of who I am now, and all that spanned in between. Nelia called to me, whispering of fire and of burning away. Often the destruction is necessary to make way for the new.. cleansing fire burning bright.
I was tired. I felt years beyond my age. I knelt and called to me those I needed to call. I told them that I didn’t think I was cut out for this anymore.. I was jus so tired.. the last dreams having taken their toll. “I think I’m done,” I said, “I don’t think I want this anymore.” I could swear I felt laughter coming from Nelia.. smart-assed piece of wood. I sat for a long time in the silence. The answer came in a thought.. very firm and quite unsympathetic. “That really is a shame,” said thought. “What is?”, I asked. “That you think all this a choice, you are what you are,” said thought. “I never said it was a choice,” I told thought, “I just said that I think that I am done.” I was greeted with more silence, apparently this was final. Great.. now even my thoughts were assholes. We all say it.. you don’t always choose to walk your path but it is times like these that it tends to hit home. I stood up and started the physical cleaning. Once done, I filled my crystal bowl with the Florida water mixture and, starting at the altar, I cleansed every piece in my workroom. I left some fresh in offer, blew the smoke over my fetiches, and I thanked them for putting me back in order. The workroom was still quiet but it felt as it always did, before.. and I had my answer.