Pagan Blog Project Wk 2: A is for Adapting

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I'm a Gemini/Taurus cusp.  The Gemini side says that I'm supposed to be flexible to changes in life whereas my Taurus side digs its heels in.  Probably because most of the time when things have changed, they've been changes that I haven't wanted.  I stubbornly clung onto two toxic relationships, particularly the second one, because I didn't want to give up, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.  If I could show that kind of fortitude but in a GOOD relationship, my stubbornness would be most fruitful.

However, my stubbornness, when change is inevitable, is a shot in the foot and it prevents me from learning to adapt.  And not being able to adapt is something that can even get in the way of my spirituality.  I'm struggling in my being able to adapt to my new surroundings.  For the past 2 years, I was in my home element of Colorado.  My beloved mountains of the Front Range greeted my eyes every day, lush grass in my favorite park caressed my feet when I'd take my children there to play.  The shade of my favorite tree there embraced me in its coolness even on the hottest days.  I'm a Colorado girl to the bone.  My favorite trees are the Aspen, their leaves turn such a brilliant shade of gold in the gorgeous autumn season.  I also loved the Maple tree that stood in front of my kids' old school and the vivid shades of red it would become.

But now, for the time being, I'm stuck in the desert.  There's more saguaro than there are trees. There's only one house I can think of in this whole neighborhood that even has any grass.  There are still mountains to see, but the ones close by are utterly bare save for the forests of saguaro that warn me that those mountains are not for my roaming pleasure.

Despite my efforts to see every bit of beauty in this place that I can, I'm homesick as hell.  I don't feel any connection to this land, though I'm trying.

My difficulty in adapting to my new surroundings has caused me to struggle a bit more with depression which has, in turn, caused me to struggle with keeping up with my spiritual goals, such as drawing a Tarot card every day.

I don't intend to be stuck out here in the desert forever.  But while I'm here, I think one of the lessons the Goddess wants me to learn is to be more adaptable to the changes in my life and to my surroundings.  I need to find a way to establish a connection to the land here.  Perhaps try to establish a friendship with the nature spirits like the ones I feel under the tree out front.  I love that tree.  There's a few more of its like in the back yard, but the one in front is the one I feel drawn to.  It feels like, for lack of a better term, a sentinel.  Like it's standing guard and watching over the place.


When we're so busy fighting against the things that have happened/are happening in our lives, we run the risk of missing the opportunities that these things may bring before us.  Opportunities to learn, opportunities to grow.  Opportunities to emerge as a better person, both mundanely and spiritually.  A better Witch/Pagan/Druid/whatever else, depending on what our goals are.  Change isn't always fun.  It can be scary and painful, but it can also be exciting and joyous too.  It is whatever we make it to be, we just have to be ready and willing to adapt.

44 Days of Witchery Day 8: A Photo of a Magical Place Outdoors

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Missed my DoW post for yesterday.  Luckily, it's pretty easy to make up for that.

I took this picture last Fall at the Cold Springs Campground -- one of the few times I was able to get out into nature like this while I was back home  *wistful sigh*

When I was there, at last getting to roam the woods like I'd been wanting to so badly and soaking up the Autumn brilliance, the energy of the forest was so welcoming and cozy to me.  I don't know how else to put it.  It was healing getting to meander among the trees.  I miss it there.

This is an especially bittersweet post to write.  Two years ago today I woke up for my first morning back home in Colorado.  I didn't care that we were starting out living in a motel.  I was getting to look out my window and see the mountains again.  After almost 6 years trapped endlessly in Oklahoma and no mountains in sight, getting to see the Front Range was something that took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes.  And when it snowed two days after coming back home?  Oh, dear gods, I was absolutely giddy!!  It felt like the Goddess was welcoming me home!  It felt like She had understood my homesickness and the snow was Her homecoming present to me.

Now I'm in the desert and gods, I miss my Colorado like frikkin' hell!  I don't regret the reasons I came here. Not at all.  But that doesn't stop my heart from aching for home.  The desert has its own beauty to it and at least there are still mountains in view here.  But they're not mountains I can go to to roam.  I don't want to tippy-toe through saguaro forests.  Still, though, I'm grateful to have mountains to look at.  I'm trying to recognize the natural beauty here, but for an Elf who feels most at home in lush forests, it's difficult to see the desert as anything but desolate.

I think about my favorite park back home, remembering getting to sit under the enormous tree that gave wonderful shade during the summer, and I think of how much I'm going to miss wriggling my bare feet in the soft, plush grass while watching my kids playing on the playground.  That was beyond heavenly for me.  That park was my favorite place to go to get a good dose of Nature in the city.  And gods, I miss it.