The first death I experienced was the death of myself.
I have vague memories of being a little child, a pure being experiencing the world for the first time. I believed in magic because I saw magic everywhere. There were no explanations. Why was the grass wet in the morning? Where does the sun go at night? Why is the sky blue?
These questions don't come from a place of worry, just curiosity about our surroundings.
Little children are more in touch with their true self than most adults. As we "grow up" our questions about the world change. Why are my parents always fighting? What if I fall and get hurt? What will happen when I get older? Love of our surroundings is replaced by fear of them.
I remember when I was little, maybe 6 years old, had this sudden desire to die. I wrapped some kind of long fabric around my neck tightly (perhaps something like a bath robe belt) and tied the other end to the stair railing. I don't remember why I wanted to die. I just remember wanting to. I pulled hard, and a part of me realized this was a very ineffient way to off myself. And I wondered why I was even trying when I was pretty sure it wouldn't work. I didn't have the words to understand it at the time, but part of me felt a pull towards a brush with death.
When I was born, the umbilical cord was wrapped around my throat and I was suffocating. My skin was so purple my pediatrician nicknamed me "Barney". Now I wonder if that urge "to die" actually stemmed from my birth circumstances. Maybe I didn't really want to die. I'd never even heard of suicide at that point. I didn't know people hung themselves and that it was one of the most common methods people used to end their lives. Maybe what I really wanted was to be reborn, to be new again.
Even as young as 6, I felt a change within me. I felt the magic, the spark of life, and the pureness of BEING receding from my awareness. I knew it had been there. I wanted desperately to get it back. I tried simple activities that I used to find joy in, like sitting in the grass outside and blowing bubbles. I was disappointed when all I noticed was how itchy the grass was, how hot the sun beat down on my skin, and how sticky the bubble solution made my hands and clothes when it spilled.
My life was filling up with noise; discomfort, unpleasant thoughts, unpleasant feelings, nightmares, and pain. Every Christmas and Halloween, holidays that once felt magical, this feeling of lost innocence was amplified as the magic faded. I knew I had lost something precious and it haunted me for years after. When my mother found me strangling myself that day and asked me why, I told her I didn't know. I just wanted to die. Of course she was distraught. Why would I do such a thing? Why would a little child want to die? I don't remember much what happened after. I think I told her that I didn't really want to die and somehow assured her that I was okay.
I remember having a lot of energy as a kid. A lot of times that energy was channeled into anger and even aggressiveness. No one really knew why. I had a health issue that was eventually treated and I sometimes overheard my behavior being attributed to that. But I knew that had nothing to do with it. There was a deep void within me, growing, something I was acutely aware of but unable to express.
I realize now that this void is part of all humans. Not all of us are so aware of it though. As we get older, we forget our connection to Source/God/The Universe. We accumulate pain and fear, take on roles and responsibilities, begin identifying with those roles and that pain, and lose touch with that inner state of Being that came so easily as little ones. There is a deep sense of dissatisfaction no matter where we go or what we achieve.
There is always something amiss. We wonder what it is that's missing, and we dream of things that might fill that void. A dream job, a nice house, the right amount of money, the perfect spouse... If only we had that.
My partner was not the perfect spouse, and I doubt I was perfect for him even though he claimed I was. But we loved each other deeply for almost 9 years. We loved each other through many obstacles and hardships. We loved each other through jail, mental health facilities, through drugs and alcohol, through shitty apartments, through debt and financial hardship, through trauma and loss. We loved each other through transcendental experiences, through success and wins, and through the every day mundane experiences which turned out to be where the most beautiful and magical moments lied. We sometimes caused each other emotional pain, but we never stopped loving each other. I won't pretend that love can fix everything, but it still remains the most powerful and transformative force in the universe. We both changed a lot over those 9 years. Mostly for the better. We weren't legally married, but it was a marriage. My partner struggled his whole life because of abuse, neglect, trauma, physical disability and pain, addiction, and severe mental health issues. It was amazing he made it to age 32 with all he had to deal with and how little support he had. I was immensely proud of him and I still am. He taught me so much, some of the most important things I ever learned, and I will carry those lessons with me always.
My partner took his life on March 26, 2024, taking part of me with him. But there will always be a part of me in him, and a part of him in me. So even though I don't always feel whole, I know I am. Because he died, but he isn't gone. So I am still whole.
I spent so long taking care of my partner, trying to get him to see the best in himself, trying to save him, that I neglected my own potential. I am a conduit for the universe to experience every corner of Being and shine my light there. And so are you. We're all here to realize that. It is the destiny of humanity to wake up and remember ourselves.
One of the important things my partner got me into is Witchcraft. I believe any religion or spiritual path can lead people to universal truth. I started my spiritual path as a Christian. And at the time, it served me. Until it didn't. I met many Witches as a Christian and always felt drawn to their ideas. It was when I met my Pagan partner that I finally felt that maybe this spiritual path had been beckoning me all along for a reason.
Within Paganism and Witchcraft, through meditation and shadow work, I felt my inner child wake up and celebrate and remember that magic IS real. I finally felt like I was back in God's embrace. And I felt that embrace by first accepting the duality of Divinity; the God AND the Goddess.
Accepting the Sacred Masculine and the Sacred Feminine helped me to accept myself more, because I am transgender. I transitioned from female to male, but I always felt both forces still within me. I tried to deny my feminine side, but it wasn't until I accepted it that I felt more aligned with my true being. I am BOTH. We all are. The Sacred Feminine and the Sacred Masculine live within us all at the same time. I don't regret transitioning; I am literally a physical symbol of both aspects, and I think that's a Sacred thing in itself. I only sort of regret ever feeling disgusted by femininity. My perspective on femininity was through a cultural lens, assigning traits and roles to the word. In reality, "masculinity" is just active energy, while "femininity" is just receptive energy. Both are needed for balance and creation. I will touch on that more in future blog posts.
I named this blog 'Cauldron Churning' because of a "vision" I had while meditating some years ago early in my practice. The type of meditation I most frequently do is visualization. It's like active imagination. Because my imagination has always been a vast playground for me to explore, it made sense to me to utilize this style of meditation.
I was deep in meditation, and I journeyed to a place within. I saw an enchanted forest, and in the heart of this forest was a little cottage, something straight out of a fairy tale. It was dark, the path lit by fireflies and witch light, the night sky above me, twinkling with stars, framed by massive tree tops. I went to the front door and knocked. The door opened, revealing the archtypical Witch; a hag with green skin and warts. I followed her inside where a huge cauldron sat, a green liquid bubbling inside. The Witch silently motioned for me to stir it. I did, and as I looked down at the liquid it eventually turned clear and reflected the Witch, now changed into a beautiful young woman.
She looked at me and I understood the lesson she wanted to show me; we can make whatever we want out of our lives and ourselves, but we have to bring that change through our works instead of waiting for it to fall into our laps.
I have carried that knowledge for a few years now. The problem is I never really figured out what I want to be beyond the best version of myself. That's a vague and open concept. How can I make a change in my life if I don't know what I want?
There isn't much I can do besides continuing to be as loving and authentic as I can. Which lead me to starting this blog.
I am an evolving open concept. Like the universe, and not unlike the contents in a cauldron. The cauldron is one of my favorite symbols, representing transformation and all 5 elements at once. As a vessel for liquid (water), smoke (air), and herbs (earth), heated (fire) to make something with intention (spirit). It represents the womb of the Goddess, and creation itself. Once, while communicating with my guides, the word "rimenium" came up. I'd never heard of it, but it was literally spelled out for me on a spirit board. In the Italian dictionary it means "a frequent and continuous retelling; churning." And it struck me that this word was my life. No matter what guidelines I set for myself throughout my life, I always change them. My life has been one big transition, and I'm not just referring to my gender transition. I am constantly evolving, deeping my relationship with the Universe, with Myself, with "God".
My first experience with death was the death of myself. And I will continue to die. I sacrifice myself to myself, as Odin did. I will keep retelling, keep churning, keep dying. That is the way of the universe. Everything must end for something else to begin.
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