Darkness

The wind. Whispering… Telling all in breathless silence. But you do not mind, for its cool touch remind you that you are alive. You look to the horizon, once washed with colours so beautiful. Hues of blues, purples, pinks and reds so pure, you yearn for your paint and canvas. But the now darkened sky has a new beauty, one of ink and glitter.

You look back to the centre of your circle, the fire, the heart of this gathering. Sizzles down to just embers. The group is getting restless, the cold inches further and further, the fire to weak to fight back.

It needs your attention.

So, you plod of into that inky night to find food, not for yourself or the gathered few. But for the fire.

You must be careful in your selection. For the heart is a fickle, as it is vital. Small pieces are necessary, easy energy, easy to carry. But you know you will need to bring larger pieces back too, they last longer, hold in heat. With arms loaded, you begin your trek back to the fading heart.

As you step into the ring of light, a feeble attempt from the dying flames. You see the faces of your group, their features masked in shadows. Are they gazing off in contemplation? Are they enjoying the silence? Are they asleep? Oh, the things that the darkness hides…

But questions beg answers, and answers in their own way bring light. So, let there be light! You feed the fire. Depositing your offerings into the bed of embers. At first it seems your choices were wrong. Too much smoke. The embers are going out. So, you kneel, to analyze, to rearrange. A few embers hold on, as if spurred on by your gaze. You take a deep breath, a careful puff of air.

Flames!

They sputter and flicker, but they take hold!

Voracious, they engulf your offerings. Heat builds. Light grows. The flames dance.

A dance so beautiful, so powerful, so all consuming, it captivates the mind. One by one the group is mesmerized. Lost in the symphony, the flames the star. The flames sizzle and crackle. Its like music, crystal clear against the backdrop of the silent night. The smoke rising, lazily disappearing into the darkness like a dream upon waking… Was it ever even there?

As the gathered few feel the heat in their bones. The conversation as if given new life. Begins again. With the darkness at your back blocking out all distraction, blanketing you in a safeness, understood only by the present few. You tell stories, you share pain, you wonder, and you dream. But eventually the flames meet the one enemy it cannot beat. Eyes become heavy; yawns begin slip into the stories. Sleep calls.

As the gathered few begin to disappear into the darkness one by one. Off to find their own peace in the land of dreams. You linger. The last of the dying embers flicker. The urge to feed the embers, to nurture it back to it magnificent glory, nags at your mind. Is it because you enjoy creating and controlling something so uncontrollable? Or is it because you fear the dark?

Are you afraid of being alone in the dark?

Why are you asking yourself this? The darkness asks.

As the last ember dies, the weight presses down on you.

What’s the real question? I ask.

Are you afraid of being alone?

You blink. Taken back. “Isn’t everyone?” You reply.

That’s not an answer.

You gaze into the nothingness of the night. Answers are found in light are they not? How are you supposed to find answers in the night? But the night has no answers. It just begs the question.

Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone?

What does one have in the darkness? When you take away all the noise. The colours, the people. What is left??

You.

The answer is in you.

You take a deep breath; you look to your own fire deep inside. Forever burning, it may flicker, it may falter, but it will never go out. There the answer has been all this time.

Are you afraid of being alone?

“Yes, but I won’t let that stop me.”

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#ThrowbackThursday – Every Bus Ride

This #ThrowbackThursday goes all the way back to 11 years ago…
I was in high school and my depression and anxiety had really started to take hold.

It took me many, many years to be able to look myself in the mirror and name my anxiety and depression, forcing them into the light.

But before then, all I could do was put my pain into art.

Sometimes I would draw, sometimes I would write.

Here is a poem I wrote.

 

 

Every Bus Ride

Every bus ride,
Every song,
In those mornings,
Short and long,
I prepare.

To put that smile on my face,
Telling friends that I’m okay,
While hiding tears behind the lace,
Wiping up the tears I say,
Shut up and smile.

Every bus ride,
Every song,
In those mornings,
Short and long,
I prepare.

For silly friend’s intentions kind,
Whose words do not explain,
Why they are so sadly blind,
Take a breathe, exhale the pain,
Shut up and listen.

Every bus ride,
Every song,
In those mornings,
Short and long,
I prepare.

My mask so porcelain strong,
Cracks and bends in many ways,
When my nerves are hit just wrong,
In the sunlight and moonlight rays,
Shut up and think.

Every bus ride,
Every song,
In those mornings,
Short and long,
I prepare.

I prepare,
To act like I care,
And cry all night,
Fade out the light,
I hear a song,
And I hum along,
To the morning side,
Of every bus ride.

Power of Me

I’ve been dying for some sigils.

Its like my skin has been screaming to be painted with magic.

Ink as dark as the New Moon.

I paint.

Creating my own reality.

Where there is a will, there is a way.

I weave magic into every stroke.

Intentions given life, life given to ink.

The Power of Me.

I paint.

Power of Me

The New Moon Gives me strength and gives me power to my intentions.

New Moon Mantra

 

 

 

 

Healing

I feel different.

As if I’ve finally been able to start healing.

Before, I thought I was owning my traumas. Speaking of them so they wouldn’t control me.

But now… Maybe I was giving them power. Never letting them rest, letting them fade into the darkness.

Now I just want to be lighter, to stop carrying these past hurts.

 

So, it’s time to let go, to move forward. To stop looking back at what was and what could have been.

I’m making a change.

I’m putting my pieces back together differently.

I won’t be afraid of failure and I will trust the magic of a new beginning.

I will strive to live with passion.

I will love myself and all my flaws.

 

And I will be brave.

For there are some paths you must walk alone and being alone is a power that few can handle.

Sometimes I think, maybe I was designed to be alone. But that’s okay. I’m not afraid to walk alone, and I’m even less afraid to like it.

 

Everything is changing and yet, I am more me than I have ever been.

 

More Me

Apartment Cleaning!

So, I was away for about 5 days visiting family and friends. And though it was absolutely lovely to see everyone, I felt like I was in this kind of limbo. I had all this energy, time, and proximity to people I care about to do so many things! But all I wanted to do was go home and organize and clean my apartment… But I had commitments, and who would believe and not be offended by; “Oh, sorry. I need to cancel. I need to go home and clean and organize my apartment.” Seriously. No one.

Now, I wish I could ask my squishy brain, “Why can’t that urge hit when I’m actually in my apartment??”
… I tried to process this concept of my brain asking itself a question and my brain started to hurt… Not a good sign.

So, lets move on!

After my 5-day adventure, I finally got home… and slept for 12
hours…!

After that! I started to clean.

So, I went from an apartment with carpet, to one with laminate flooring.

With 3 cats… No matter what litter catching mat I use, the litter still tracks EVERYWHERE! And now I can feel it everywhere I walk. So, I sweep religiously. Then there’s the fur… Oh, the fur… Balls of fur tumbling into the corners, under couches, against the wall. Instead of just weaving themselves into the carpet fibre like they used to in my old apartment. So… More sweeping!

So, after sweeping, and moving stuff, then sweeping more, cleaning the litter boxes and sweeping more.

I started to unpack and put away all the stuff I had been ignoring for the past month. I hung up actual curtains using a curtain rod (instead of the bed sheet and thumb tacks I used prior) to cover my patio door.

My sacred space got downsized a bit, storing the stuff I did not need at this time. I felt drawn to a minimalist and stream lined area focused on growth. Not the reflective compilation of all that came before and made me who I am, I had set up when I first moved in.

The succulent I have had some petals fall off in the move. Luckily these little off shoots can grow into a whole new plant! So, I repotted my succulents little off shoots and settled the new plants I bought while I was away into their new location, with a little prayer to the Earth that they survive and thrive in my care.

At this point I needed some supplies to really finish off the apartment set up. So… I went on a shopping spree to the craft store!

I bought some frames for the puzzle I finished, and this Legend of Zelda print I got for Christmas. As well as a fake fern, some fake flowers and a vase. Basically, I wanted the size and vibrancy of the fern, but I knew the odds were forever against me of keeping one alive… So, I got a fake one! The same thing goes for the fake flowers. I wanted the colour and since most beautiful flowers are unsafe for pets, fake ones are the easiest compromise!

When I brought my haul home, I got to work. I could tell my energy was waning, but I was so close.

I hung up the pictures, placed the fern, assembled the flowers, and added a few more touches around the room.

I lit a candle and cleansed the space with sage.

The burst of cleaning and organizing inspiration was over, and the results amazing.

Here are some pictures of all the hard work!

The stunning Legend of Zelda Print and “Starry Night” puzzle!

Framed Pictures.JPG

 

The Living Room is coming together!

Living Room.jpg

 

The fish have a nice view of the fake plant I got.

Fish Tank

 

My flower arrangement!

Flower Power

 

My repotted succulents as well as some other plants.

Green Space

 

Cheers!

Candice 🙂

Imbolc

Its Been Awhile…!

Well today is Imbolc… Fair to say it kinda snuck up on me in all the chaos after the move and starting the new job.

But what to do, what to do?

Here are some of the main things Wiccans suggest:

Imbolc

Now alas I am away from home, so spring cleaning and cleansing my sacred space are off the list, BUT!

I’m ALL FOR planning my spring planting!

I want to “try” to grow some plants now that my new apartment has more light, as well as re-pot my succulents little offspring.

I will admit in the past I have not been blessed with a green thumb but I have hope!

I need to better connect with my ruling element Earth and I sincerely hope that nurturing and growing plants will help!

I also found this poem that I just loved and wanted to share.

Imbolc Poem

Cheers All and Blessed Be!
Candice 🙂

Big News!

Hey All!

I’m sorry I have been so absent, so many things have been happening!

Some of you may already know, but it all comes down to the fact… I’m Moving!!

I have accepted a job at a emergency and referral facility in London and will be moving to London in January.

I hope when I am done with the move and settled a bit more I will be in a good space to come back to blogging!

I hope everyone has had an enjoyable holiday season and that the new year brings many wonderful things!

Cheers!

Candice 🙂

Emotions and Music

I really feel like music helps me to process thoughts and emotions that seem too overwhelming on their own.

 

And lately there is a lot rolling around in this brain of mine…

I was looking around on Youtube. For something that would just click, that would help, and would calm the chaos.

 

Sometimes it feels like I’m looking for the next high.

To find a song that sends shivers down my spine, brings tears to my eyes, and makes me feel.

 

F**k that’s hard to find.
I can spend what feels like hours searching for that click. That feeling.
Many times I come up empty handed.

 

But today I found something amazing…

 

I feels like hope and sorrow. Beauty and pain. Love and loss.
There are moments where I think I hear someones breath, and I find myself catching my own breath in turn.
It gave me a space to embrace change, the joy and the sorrow that comes with.

 

I am lost in the haunting notes.
Floating.

 

Saying good bye to the past, respecting the unknown of the future.

Enjoy.

[yotuwp type=”videos” id=”OwxzbGhSt6Q” ]

I’m Just “Tired”

I’ve been watching RuPaul’s Drag Race, and I just watched Roxxxy Andrews breakdown during her first time in the bottom two.
And it shook me.

“…and I’m just so tired”

God, I’ve said that so many times…

“Hey girl, are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself.”
“Oh… Sorry lady… I’m just so tired today.”

When I say it, I just want people to brush off whatever behavior they are concerned about, to think I just didn’t get enough sleep. That I’m just… “tired”.

But its so much more…

Sleep doesn’t help if it’s your soul that’s tired.

And my soul is worn.

From pretending that my mind is not a swirl full of demons. Gnawing and scraping at all that is beautiful, all that is good. Leaving warped thoughts in their wake.

Trying to fight against those warped thoughts… “You are good enough!” But how…? How do you fight for your own mind when it only sees the darkness?

From forcing myself to get up every day, to go to work, to tackle the things a much more hopeful, past me planned.

Just trying to be strong, to stand tall, all the while crumbling under my own foolish ideology of independence.

From taking on the pain, the trials, the tribulations of others, because no matter how thread bare my own soul is, I cannot stand by and let someone suffer alone.

But instead of saying all that, instead of bearing my broken weary soul, for all to see.

I just say…

“I’m just tired.”

You would think, talking about it here is a step.
And, maybe it is.

But it doesn’t feel like it.
It just feels like reaching out, and trying to catch smoke, with the hope it will warm my hands.

Because when someone comes to me in person, to say “Are you okay?”
Maybe after reading this, or just because.

My unhealthy defence mechanism kicks in.

And I say.

“I’m just tired.”

But, when someone who struggles with mental health, says they’re “tired”.

Its just a quiet plea.
“Call me out, for I am not okay.”

Candice

http://www.picturequotes.com/physically-mentally-emotionally-tired-quote-18630

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