Isaac’s Rolling Thunder

May 28, 2010

Am in the midst of the Rolling Thunder ritual for Isaac Bonewits. I started by casting a Circle of trees interwoven like Celtic knots and inviting my goddesses of the Quarters: Arianrhod, Brighid, Rhiannon, and Cerridwen. I prayed for a little while but then shifted into active healing magic.

I pictured Isaac in the middle of the Circle and moved deosil around him, chanting Phaedra’s chant: “Isaac’s tumors fade away; 30 more years with Phae.” I turned it into a chant-song (of course) and visualized him healthy. I kept a photo from the Wild Hunt blog up on my laptop so the vision of the smiling, healthy couple could infuse the ritual with love and meaning.

Isaac and Phaedra

Phaedra and Isaac

After a while the energy started to build and I felt Called to go widdershins and focus on dissolving the tumors and their root causes. The chant became more powerful as I Heard voices from across the world joining in. I was carrying my favorite goddess figurine and wore my spirit bag from the Pagan Summit. The magic became deeper and more solemn.

After a long time of focus on that I felt the energy shift and get quieter and slower. I poured water down my throat to cleanse the chant away. I sang very quietly, “I will sing/Sing a new song” (a bit from a U2 song) but that seemed too much. I’d planned on turning back deosil and focusing on the “30 more years with Phae” part of the chant, but that’s not the message I received.

Instead, I Saw Isaac in a white robe with Celtic knots traced on it. He was lying on his back, suspended in the air, arms slightly out from his sides. And everything was quiet and shimmering.

I walked around his body a few times and then stopped in the South. I sang a brief Spirit message about being still and being in the love of the moment. Then I began a vigil. That was the message. It was just time to witness his receiving all this healing energy from all over the world. To interrupt that with chanting would interrupt the healing process.

I sat for a long time, just holding that image in my mind and heart. Then I drew a tarot card for him: 4 of Swords. A time for rest, rejuvenation, meditation.

I don’t know if Isaac will live or die in these next few weeks. Last I heard, he was taken to the emergency room today. But he is being given every chance to make that decision in love. His body may just need to move on—I can’t tell. But the love and support out there tonight is immense.

I’m getting ready for sleep but have set my alarm for a few hours from now, when I will blow out the candles and open the Circle. I want this energy of the vigil to continue, even if my physical body needs to sleep.

Isaac had a profound impact on my early training (I still use his “cosmic switchboard” analogy) and then, when I met him at the Summit in 2001, he was very kind to me. A good man. I pray that his suffering is eased this night and in the coming weeks, and that we are all able to deliver that miracle his doctor has asked for.

Blessed Be.

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Moulin Rouge

May 23, 2010

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

Is it so strange that someone should have loved me once? Should have wanted to marry me? Have children with me?

He was copper honey and safety like I’ve never known. And he loved every fiber of me. He took each breath and gave it back to me, cleansed and blessed for me to breathe again.

He threw back his head when he laughed—big, full-bodied laughs like mine. He eyes sparkled with delight. And they would darken in the candlelight as he took me into his heart.

We talked about money, about guns, about children, about sex. He was unscarred by previous relationships so I had him to myself, a virgin in affairs of the heart. When I played mind games he would stop me in my tracks simply by asking why I was hurting him.

No one suspected the depth of his passion, not even he. And there was tenderness, too—a soul I could entrust my fragile self to. And there were the quiet times sitting and staring out the window or when he worked on his drawings while I read in bed. Or when he would sit on the edge of the bed in the mornings (“I take my mornings slow”) and I would curl around him in companionable silence.

Boredom was there, too, and the tedium of a long-distance relationship. The pressures of balancing all our varied commitments. The ever-present question of when he would move here. “Not this year.” How my heart broke.

The train wreck. The decision to love him fiercely anyway, to love my self with abandon, to ride this tidal wave of love wherever it took me. Knowing only that I was terrified and brave and desirous of every thing he wanted for me. I rode that wave to a freedom I hadn’t imagined, transformed and transfigured by love.

“Break apart,” he said, not “break up.” Wise words. I almost died in the process, was reborn in a shamanic rebirthing. Only to lose it all when someone else came along who was harder, edgier—more used to cutting than smoothing. But even that love wanted me.

I don’t dwell on him anymore. Not for a long time. I’ve lived so many lifetimes since then. But we’ve never seen each other, never spoken, since he walked out that door. And I’ve never forgotten what it meant to be loved.

At times I am overwhelmed by the memories and the knowledge of what once was and what could have been. How much I wanted it then. How much I long for it now.

Moulin Rouge is the language of that life. Every moment of intensity. The color, the sounds, the goofiness and the drama. The reckless abandon. To love, fully and completely and wildly—to go wherever it leads—I remember that. I remember the cooling and deepening of the initial hot-gold-rush into something mellower and stronger and yet still fired, always fired by passion. There is no doubt; life is grey now.

Others found it silly. I found it profound. An expression of some of my greatest desires.

Truth. Beauty. Freedom. Love.


BloomingPlays ends

May 22, 2010

Tonight marks the end of the BloomingPlays experience for me. I just got back from the cast party (thanks to Gabe and Brett for hosting!), even though there are 2 more performances to go.

Overall it was a very positive experience. I learned a lot; chiefly, I am not a playwright! That takes a special kind of writer and that I am not.

It was fun and frustrating to hear the final reading of our play the other night. Fun in that the fabulous actresses (Holly and Margot) brought so much intensity to the script and frustrating in that we still didn’t get the equality of the characters that we were going for. That tells me that there’s something lacking in the script, rather than something lacking in the acting.

I’m a bit miffed about how the process ended up. We were told before the final workshop which shows were going to be produced, so it was kind of a letdown to try and bring enthusiasm to the last two written iterations of the script.

Then, when it came time for the festival itself, it was presented as four plays. They got all the PR. No one knew about the free readings of the other 4 plays (Caretakers among them) that happened Wednesday night. The complete info wasn’t even on the home page of the website.

The email promos were little better, with the name of our play wrong and the synopsis uncorrected.

But most painful of all was reading the program tonight and seeing no mention of our play or of ourselves as playwrights. I thought we were part of the BloomingPlays series. Apparently only the 4 produced plays were considered part of the series. The readings were just considered something…else. They don’t fit in to any category.

Enough bitching. It was good to work with Lori and it was spectacular to go through the workshopping process. I learned a lot. And I stand in awe of those real playwrights who are able to create actual theatre with their work. Thanks to the BPP for making it all happen!


Caretakers staged reading 19 May

May 12, 2010

Finally, after years of development, Lori’s and my play Caretakers will receive a choreographed reading on Wednesday, 19 May at 8pm at the Bloomington Playwrights Project. I’m not sure if “choreographed” includes Busby Berkley routines, but it would certainly create some interesting theatre. The event is FREE!

Sisters Rose and Pam are estranged after a complicated childhood. The illness of their mother brings them together. But what ensues is something neither expected.

Intrigued?? I hope so. Our play will be read along with Things to Believe In by Josie Gingrich & Gayle Gingrich (an interesting investigation of what motivates people to do good) and The Good Daughter by Brenda Hiatt Barber (an amusing snapshot of family competition at its best).

All the pieces have been extensively workshopped and are really good. So please come out and enjoy the goodness! (Did I mention it’s free?)

For more info, see newplays.org. Thanks!