SECTION III - THE CAULDRON - PART 2
Healthy Addiction, Depending on who you ask! - Raven
Loving Myself - Lorelei
The Boy Who Cried "Sick!" - Kathryn Dyer
The Question - Rev. L. Shepardson
Sometimes people come into your life - Author unknown
Life Lessons - Kim Robertson
Healthy Addiction .... Depending on who you ask!
By Raven
I was unsure what to rant about this week so I decided to rave instead (I know. It is a new angle for me
lol) I run and belong to several email RPG's (Roll Playing Games) I figured maybe it would be nice to share some of my
geekDom! LOL!
In case you don't know what email RPG's are let me fill you in. An email RPG is a free form game where people create characters and use them to "act" out different plots. It is like writing a play as you go along. It is a great way to relieve stress and keep your writing skills constantly tweaked.
Most of the games I run are Vampire or Witch based fiction. I have always had an attraction to the gothic vamp horror stuff. Hey, I never said I was normal! Anyway, I have made many friends (an enemies) in the games that I never planned on. When I started in them I just planned on having fun. I got more than I bargained for!
The friends I have made mean more to me than anything. My writing has always drawn me to interesting and amazing people - like the ones who write here. On the down side though I have made some enemies too. It sounds sad that a game can cause such hostility (and you are right) but it can. Some people take these games so seriously that they lose themselves in it and the game becomes better than reality. It is sad to see and even worse to be around. I have seen people get so mad they insult other players then leave the game.
Recently I lost a very close friend that was in all of my games. I thought of her as a sister .... still do. I met her in one of my games and we just hit it off. We knew what the other person was going to write before it even hit the message board and always had the perfect response. Well, due to something really stupid that was blown out of proportion we no longer talk. The choice is not mine but all attempts to smooth it over have been rejected.
I mention this because these games can be a great source of pleasure but you need to make sure you can handle the outcome...good or bad, game or reality. I just want to say to this person (If they are reading) that friendship should be more important than games, misunderstandings or a change in circumstances. Don't let your temper ruin all we have been through.
Yes, these games are addicting but I don't think that is a bad thing IF you remember they are just games. Even after you hit send it is not set in stone. In life it is much different sometimes. Our actions have consequences and reactions that aren't so equal in every case. If you want a way to get away for a little while and a way to keep your righting at top form then RPG's are perfect.
Well, maybe I ranted a little after all!
_The Boy Who Cried "Sick!"_
Copyright 3/6/2002
Kathryn Dyer
[Author's note: For those of you who are waiting for the sequel to _Meagan's Hospital Visit_... I am still trying to wrap my head around the real life situation that prompted that story enough to write the ending story... once I do, it will be here. Also, due to the @home situation, my website will be changing... the new one isn't up yet but should be by the Beltaine issue... it will be a Comcast page - Kat]
Once upon a time there was a little boy named Ebon who lived with his mother in a big city. He was old enough to go to school and most of the time he really enjoyed it. But one day he woke up feeling funny. His head hurt. His eyes hurt. His toenails hurt! He did not get out of bed when his mother called for him to get up and get ready for school.
"Ebon Weaver!" cried his mother as she stood in the doorway of his room, "Why aren't you out of bed? I know you heard me!" Ebon closed his eyes and almost cried because the sound hurt his ears so much. He heard his mother cross the room and lay a cool hand on his head. He had never felt his mother's hand being so cold before. "Goddess bless child!" exclaimed his mother, "You are running such a fever!" She tucked his covers up around his chin and told him she would be right back. She returned with a thermometer and took his temperature. He knew it was really high because of the way she breathed in when she looked at the thermometer.
Ebon could hear his mother making phone calls... lots of phone calls. She called his doctor. She called his school. She called her work. She called his Naynay who baby-sat him after school. She called their Priestess who was teaching his mother about using herbs alongside modern medicine. Ebon began to wonder if he'd ever see his mother again, she was making so many phone calls. Just then, she came back into the room.
"Okay sweetie, we need to get you dressed to go to the doctor's office. They're going to squeeze us in." his mother said while she pulled out clothes and shoes and coats. Ebon could barely move. His mother had to dress him just like she did when he was a baby, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to curl up in a ball and not do anything. He didn't want to ride his bike. He didn't want to play one of his games. He didn't even want to read a book. Ebon was really sick.
Ebon was so sick that his mother had to carry him into the doctor's office. They sent him right back to a room. His temperature had gone up even though his mother had given him medicine before they left home and wiped him down with a cool cloth as she dressed him. Dr. Linda listened to his chest. She looked in his mouth, ears & nose. She thumped him so much he thought he would cry. The nurse put him in a wheelchair and took him to the x-ray room. Ebon didn't care. He wanted nothing but to be held by his mother.
It seemed that Ebon had pneumonia. Dr. Linda told him that pneumonia was when you have fluid in your lungs. That makes it hard to breathe. Because Ebon had so much fluid in his lungs and he was so sick, he would have to go to the hospital for a few days. Dr. Linda explained, "You know that I don't like to give antibiotics, right?" Ebon nodded. "Well," she continued, "You are so very sick right now that we need to give you what are called IV antibiotics. We are going to send you to the hospital for a few days. We'll put a teeny needle in your arm, in one of your veins, and then we can get the antibiotics into your body's system faster and better." Ebon's mom nodded. So Ebon went to the hospital.
Some things about the hospital were good, even before he began feeling better. His mother stayed with him ALL day and ALL night. She even got onto his bed when he couldn't get to sleep. Their priestess came by with a basket of juice & new books for him to read. His mother read them to him... all the way through, instead of just one or two chapters at a time like she did at home. She didn't go to work. She didn't talk very long on the phone with her friends. She didn't go out... except for a few times when one of their friends would make her go get food and even then, it wasn't for long.
After a few days of this Ebon went home. He was still sick. He still couldn't go to school. He was hoping that that meant his mom wouldn't be going back to work either... but no luck. His Naynay came to stay with him while his mom worked. He had a teacher come to his house to make sure he didn't fall behind the other kids. Eventually though, the doctor said that he was well enough to go back to school. Ebon was pleased... at first. He wanted to tell all his friends at school about being so sick. He wanted to play on the playground. He really wanted to get back into the library and see if there were any new books in from his favorite series.
But things weren't as great as Ebon expected. The other kids at school were only impressed for a day or two. There were no new books in his favorite series at the library. The playground was still the same but he was still a little weak from being sick. And the very worst of all... the thing that made him want to hug a pillow... his mother had to work overtime because of some special project. It was enough to make a person cry. Which got Ebon to thinking.
When he was sick, Ebon's mom stayed with him. She didn't go to work. When he was sick, everyone worried about him and brought him special things. When he was sick, he got special food. People propped his pillows. His mother sang special songs and read him books. Ebon thought and thought and thought about it. And then one day, after Ebon had been thinking really hard, Ebon knew he had a test at school. He was ready. He had studied. He just didn't want to go to school. He wanted to stay home with his mother. He decided he was sick.
Ebon's mother didn't buy it. She felt his head, looked at his throat, felt his neck and took his temperature. When she went out of the room, Ebon stood by the lamp. Really close. Really, really close. The thermometer read high... but his mom wasn't fooled. She folded her arms, closed her eyes for a second and shook her head, "Ebon love, I don't know what you did... but you do NOT have a temperature of 107. Your skin would be hot and it is not. I don't understand. Is there a test at school you don't want to take? Is there another child who is bothering you? Are you having trouble with one of your teachers?"
Ebon felt his chest get tight. His mouth opened and closed and he couldn't get any words out. His mother sat down and held out her arms. Ebon flung himself into them and cried like the world was ending. "I just want to be with you!" he cried. His mother held him close. She rocked him back and forth, back and forth... just like in the book she used to read him when he was little. "Oh
sweetling, I want to be with you too, but if I don't go to work then we won't have any money. No money for this apartment. No money for food. No money for books!!" She gave him a kiss. "When you are grown-up, you will work too. You will make money for things you need and things you want. And it's important that people work. Most work is doing things that other people need... like doctors and nurses taking care of people, farmers growing food for people to eat, plumbers and tailors and policemen and so many others."
Ebon thought a sec, "Like Uncle Rob raising money for AIDs research?"
His mom smiled, "Yes! And sometimes grown-ups don't want to go to work any more than you want to go to school today. But everyone has a job to do. Your job is to go to school and learn what it is you want to do someday. Now, the hour grows late and you and I need to get ready and get out of here." Ebon got up and walked slowly to his room. He got dressed and grabbed his backpack. He went back out to tell his mom good-bye before leaving for the bus stop. She was already dressed.
"Gee, that was fast!" he said. His mom laughed, "Yes, but I need to get to work just as much as you need to get to your work." Ebon smiled...but just a little. "Hey bud," she continued, "What say we have a picnic at the park this weekend? I've got another week on my project and I could really use some special time with my main man to help me gear up for it." She hugged Ebon *really* hard, her eyes twinkling.
Ebon ducked his head, "Mo-om!", but inside he was happy... his mom loved him. She wanted to be with him. He grinned, "Okay... but only if you do all your homework!" and danced out the door as his mother laughed behind him. Ebon passed his test that day. He stayed with Naynay while his mother worked overtime. He got to have a picnic on the weekend. He talked with his mother about how he felt. They decided to use the word 'pneumonia' to let each other know when they felt like no one had time for them. Whenever someone used it, the other person would do special things. They would hide cards that were sweet or funny, make special foods, and do other things that made each other feel better.
Sometimes Ebon still tried to stay home from school. His mother always caught him. And he still felt like no one cared sometimes. But his mother always loved him... just as mothers and fathers always have since the beginning of time.
The Question
By Rev. L. Shepardson
Life can be hard, and death can come swiftly without much warning or time to prepare. Just such a death came to my neighbor, my Friend, my Initiator, my High Priest Cyril. After a year of drifting apart, I left the coven. I had out grown the need for a teaching coven, but was not yet ready to start one on my own, if I would ever be. About two years after I left I learned that I would move at the end of October. Realizing I would need to take a summer off from doing our local Renaissance Festival, I made the decision to move and never looked back. That is how I came to miss the signs of Cyril's illness. I had heard the distant coughing from the upstairs apartment, and listened to the stories from his wife, my friend and from my husband about his lingering illness, but still I did not see the signs. I was distant, detached, driven to succeed in getting us moved and the house cleaned, and the million and one things you need to do to move. The day I left the house, I heard Cyril coughing upstairs, and stood wondering if I should go say goodbye. With the tension of leaving the coven and our drifting apart I didn't feel comfortable. And frankly I was a chicken. I didn't want to go upstairs and face him. I didn't want to say I was sorry or deal with any issues we had, and besides I told myself, he was sick. The goddess was with me then, and I didn't listen.
About a week after we moved Cyril was hospitalized. He had pneumonia and the doctors kept him a day or so and then sent him home. He was back within less than a week, with congestive heart failure. Suddenly it was more than obvious that Cyril was very sick, we got daily reports and details on his condition. Still I did not go see him, or visit his wife. They were in crisis, I told myself. They don't need me hanging around. What can I do? The goddess was with me then, and I didn't listen.
Then came the phone call from my husband. Could I please go to the hospital and see his wife? They think it might be cancer, and he wanted one of us to be there for her and he couldn't leave work. I went to the hospital, worried, guilty, and afraid. The goddess was with me then, and I didn't listen.
His wife was frantic, and hugged me awkwardly. She was just on her way to speak to the team of doctors. He was in a coma, and had been so for over 24 hours. The prognosis was indeed cancer and that Cyril her husband, my friend, our mutual priest was dying. She needed to speak with the doctors some more, and went off to do so, and asked me to call everyone in her and Cyril's address book, to give them the news. After all it was Wednesday, and Cyril always had friends over for "secret coven meetings" where they'd hang out and watch sci-fi and drink a few beers. I made the phone calls, stumbled over the words, how do you tell people their good friend is dying? Cyril was a long time member of our pagan community and there were a lot of calls to make, and a growing crowd of people gathering at the hospital to support his wife and him in this last ordeal. The goddess was with us all that night, and few of us listened.
That long night, I acted as Clergy, and was with his wife when she needed me, with some of his other friends while we were waiting, taking people back to his room so that they could have a few minutes with Cyril and say their good-byes. I took my husband to his room, and together we tried to say good-bye. This was our friend, our teacher, and the man who married us. Though we had drifted apart, and had differences, he was still loved. And now I had lost the chance to say anything. What could I have said? I'm sorry? Will you forgive me? Why couldn't we talk more? I said nothing of those things, I held his hand and stroked his cheek and whispered in his ear that it was all right for him to leave, that he had other's waiting to see him on the other side. The goddess was with me then, and I didn't listen.
Cyril died, and we spent time crying and planning and celebrating his life, his wisdom, and his love for his friends. We had a keen edge on our grief, this was the first loss in our close tight knit community. Numb, afraid, and in grief his wake was chaotic and emotional and lasted all night long as good wakes will. The goddess was with us then, and we didn't listen.
Seven months after Cyril's death, with our once tight knit community fragmenting and fighting and still in the grip of grief and anger and self-recriminations and finger pointing, my husband and I had been speaking about Cyril before falling asleep. And that night I dreamt. At first the dream was a standard one, one I'd had dozens of times in varying themes. We all were working to get ready for the local renaissance fair; with we had been dong with Cyril for years. In the dream I looked at him working across the campground and stood up and said, "You know it really sucked when you died. I'm really glad your back again." And he looked at me and laughed. Then the strangest thing happened. I "woke" up inside the dream. And looked at this man, my friend, my priest, my initiator, this man who had died, and I asked the most normal question. "What's it like to be dead?" I could not have been more unprepared for his answer. He never spoke, but leaned his forehead against mine and looked deeply in my eyes. His eyes were the palest blue, and misty like a warm rain at twilight. I have no words to express the depth of emotion I experienced. I can only say it was the most excruciatingly joyfully sorrowfully sense of love and acceptance I have ever felt. It was all emotions, and beyond emotion. As Witches we say to each other "perfect love and perfect trust" and I know now what that feels like. The Goddess was with me that night and she was shouting, I had no choice but to listen.
I am a Priestess, I will always serve my Goddess and God where they call me to serve. Life is a gift. We are only given one life at a time, and time is relentless. Although life may be hard, we are never tested beyond what we can endure although that is not always apparent to us. We are imperfect beings, with only a vague remembrance of our life with the Goddess and God. We yearn to recapture that feeling, and we often forget that others are ultimately in the exact same situation that we are. What I wasn't listening to was the Goddess whispering to me to love and forgive and to let go. We will all meet again some time, in her arms and in the end what does it matter who wronged who first? We live we love we make mistakes, we forgive we move on we let go. Eventually we will let go of this life, and no one knows when we will be called back to answer her Question:
" What have you learned in the life I have given you?"
Sometimes people come into your life
Author unknown
Sometimes people come into your life and you know
right away that they were meant to be there, to serve
some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson, or to help
you figure out who you are or who you want to become.
You never know who these people may be - a roommate, a
neighbor, a professor, a friend, a lover, or even a
complete stranger - but when you lock eyes with them,
you know at that very moment they will affect your
life in some profound way.
Sometimes things happen to you that may seem horrible,
painful, and unfair at first, but in reflection you
find that without overcoming those obstacles you would
have never realized your potential, strength,
willpower, or heart.
Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness,
and sheer stupidity all occur to test the limits of
your soul. Without these small tests, whatever they
may be, life would be like a smoothly paved straight
flat road to nowhere. It would be safe and
comfortable, but dull and utterly pointless.
The people you meet who affect your life, and the
success and downfalls you experience, help to create
who you are and who you become. Even the bad
experiences can be learned from. In fact, they are
sometimes the most important ones.
If someone loves you, give love back to them in
whatever way you can, not only because they love you,
but because in a way, they are teaching you to love
and how to open your heart and eyes to things.
If someone hurts you, betrays you, or breaks your
heart, forgive them, for they have helped you learn
about trust and the importance of being cautious to
whom you open your heart.
Make every day count. Appreciate every moment and take
from those moments everything that you possibly can
for you may never be able to experience it again. Talk
to people that you have never talked to before, and
listen to what they have to say.
Let yourself fall in love, break free, and set your
sights high. Hold your head up because you have every
right to. Tell yourself you are a great individual and
believe in yourself, for if you don't believe in
yourself, it will be hard for others to believe in
you.
You can make anything you wish of your life. Create
your own life and then go out and live it with
absolutely no regrets.
And if you love someone tell them, for you never know
what tomorrow may have in store.
Learn a lesson in life each day that you live! Today
is the tomorrow you were worried about yesterday. Was
it worth it?
Author unknown
Life Lessons
By Kim Robertson
A lady online asked me once whether I believe that we are here for a purpose. She wondered, once we have achieved that purpose or learned what we are supposed to, whether this life ends. She asked further whether our souls are ascending to something higher.
I think that we are all here for the same overall purpose and that is to grow into something greater than ourselves; kind of like Richard Bach's 'Jonathon Livingston Seagull'. I think to get there we are given many lessons, some of which are of our own making and others given to us to guide on to better understanding. Even those of us who perform bad acts are still on the path of leaning. Those people just have some very unpleasant lessons to learn yet.
That said I shall go a little closer to answering the question:
1. There are lessons that are learnt within an hour or a day.
2. There are lessons that are like phases in our lives, which flavor a few months or a few years in our learning. I had a bad marriage and that was one of those lessons.
3. There are lessons that span a whole lifetime. This sort of lesson is tied up with why we were born into our family and our race and our time. It is a sort of "theme" to the life. My life's theme is about being a loving male in all my phases of age and maturity. Also, sometimes we make promises to ourselves in a previous life that we feel bound to keep in the current life though we don't always understand why. For example, I have a recurrent thing about not being rich whilst not being in poverty. Well, lucky me, I am almost always poor!
4. There are lessons that span several lifetimes. For example coming to terms with the act of rape is one. Some lifetimes a person might inflict it, and in another they might be a victim of it etc. It is something that I believe everyone has to understand, all of the ramifications of the suffering and evil brought into the world by this type of thing. There are other lessons spanning lifetimes as well, like love.
5. There are overall principles of the universe (if you like) that are there for us to learn over all of our existences. These are lessons that take our whole
time(s) on this planet and when we learn them we move on. Why do this learning and growth in the physical world? Well, I can't answer that one, just give you my thoughts. I think that the reason we can't know it all is part of the reason why. Every life is close to a fresh start and a new chance. 99% of the baggage from previous lives is not part of this life. I believe that being corporeal gives us focus and so growth, at a speed that and energy that defies us when in spirit. These lessons of pain, love, selfishness and self-sacrifice only mean something when we can feel it, when we have something to lose and something to gain. A spirit can watch these things like a movie where a person in body lives it. Who do you think learns the lessons the best?
Blessed be
Kim Robertson
