as for introductions.. an excerpt from a writing old..
.. And not just the wrinkles (or the saggy skin, and don’t get me started on the old lady arms).. not just of my age or my delicious croneholio-ness.. but of my choices and of my spirituality.
My first tattoo was a small rose on my hip. I was eighteen years old and quite rebellious for a nerdy girl. It started out as a mark of being freed into adulthood, soon to embark on my newly married life.. one that turned pretty quickly. I am a survivor of domestic abuse and although I do not detail it much – I am very proud to be so. It is but a small part of who I am, and so my little rose became a reminder of the folly of giving up too much of oneself.
I have added to it a crescent moon and a small crow for this freedom hard earned.. crow being the one mine who brings the hard lessons. The husband now has seen me through those twenty plus years of freedom and this not so new beginning has been reworked into another rose for a relationship true.. a compass rose..
Reading this, years later, I find it perfectly sums up my spent youth of life not living. The blur from there to the middle was a great journey of finding oneself and building.. life does move so very fast.
Just when I am sure set in my path, the universe opens up a new side road to travel.. or spirals me back to see the old one from a different perspective. So here I find myself moving into my winter, a witch leaning zen entering a new chapter. My life and spiritual is softening. I am softening. The little things seem to be the most important now.. time in the garden, a glass of wine with the husband, the right shade of red. This is the journey of cultivating simplicity and a life magical.