Our Inner Nature
I was watching Devi this morning as he sat meowing in the window. Long ago I had created a little song about his window cries.
Lil’ Devi-fafa,
Sitting in the window
Crying cuz he can’t bite the critters in the head.
Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow …
(Sung to the tune of Lil’ Bunny-fufu)
He is crying out because the screen inhibits his predator nature. He can literally taste the blood in his mouth when he sees the birds and the hated squirrels bounding about freely in the world outside … while he is trapped in the domestic civility of my home. His teeth tremble as he cries and moves in a biting motion with each utterance. Devi has never tasted real prey. But his instinct tells him that they are pretty darn tasty nonetheless.
I sit looking out that window as well. I feel no call erupting from within at the sights and sounds outside. But pen and paper, and the ever present laptop causes a sensation within me which is very much like my budding familiar’s cry. No one is blocking my access, there is no screen separating me from my prey.
But I sit nonetheless feeling impotent and empty. I am a warrior mystic and one of my precious fangs/tools is critical inquiry. And yet, I hesitate.
My prey like the hated squirrels comes very close and bangs on the separation taunting me at my self made restraint.
My healer once advised me to embrace my predator within, to allow her to openly prowl and hunt. And yet, I hesitate.
I can feel that bloody taste, and the howling is pushing itself up from within my inner darkness. As I stare into the eyes of this small deadly blood-seeking predator at my feet, I feel such kinship within his cry.
I reach for the barrier with claw and fang and hunger … I emerge ready for the thrill of the hunt once again …
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This reminded me of something I wrote a few months ago: http://eoma-p.livejournal.com/36134.html
Could be the start of a fun adventure - whatever words you find that fit you best, may you be blessed for it!
Wish I could be there. Very well spoken.
Katrina,
I wish you all the blessings and power you need on your journey. Thank you for these words. It is good to remember that returning to work (and thus returning to grace) bring a chance for us all to rest and have joy.
Wishing you joy in the Work.
David
Dear Katrina- Thorn reposted your blog and happy am I. Your passion, always so immense, comes blowing out in these words. So akin to my own heart and soul that it makes me have a bittersweet smile.
The Storm is only now coming to the edges of our universe and yet it will sweep and consume all that is. In the end, our beautiful universe will be so much...more? Different? Complete? Who knows?
All I do know is my soul came here to witness and be part in this period. I cannot shrink from the work. I am here with you, fae sister!
Thought-provoking piece, Katrina. Thanks.
I don't know what to call myself either. In Pagandom, I've taken to referring to myself as a Witch at Large. In the interfaith world where I'm active, I call myself a Pagan. Sometimes I call myself an uppity woman or a Second Wave Feminist. I've never really thought to publicly identify myself by my sexuality, het woman, which is very "white bread" and old-fashioned. Not only het, but serially monogamous for the most part. It seems almost a liability these days to say you're het, but I am proudly and happily so. I tend towards intellectualism but only have a BA, which doesn't carry much weight, at least in public and professional worlds, no matter how much you've studied, trained, and can articulate, even teach.
My biological heritage is Irish, Dutch, French Huguenot, Euro-mongrel. My social heritage is Roman Catholic on one side and conservative Methodist, temperance-crusading, women's rights and education on the other, with distinct East Coast sensibilities, now mellowed by more than half a century living on the Left Coast. My maternal political heritage is conservative Republican (altho what my relatives might think of current trends in the GOP I cannot imagine, since they did have brains and they did think and they did have a social conscience), yet I am much farther left in my outlook than any elected official I know. My paternal political heritage is blue collar Democratic, except that my dad broke with his family on politics and allied with my mother's family's conservatism.
I'm a former hippie, a home-birth advocate, a home death and green burial advocate, an opponent of capital punishment and resorting to warfare to resolve humankind's differences. I support the right to conscious self-deliverance. I rejoice in any and all consensual expressions of love and eros. I'm a lover and a mom.
I have never missed voting in an election and I disrespect those who don't avail themselves of this hard-won right. (I have ancestors who fought the Brits in the American Revolution.) I support workers' rights. I recognize our interdependence on this planet, so could be called a greenie. I'm a committed environmentalist in my day-to-day life (in terms of eating locally grown food, expanding public transit, recycling, preserving open space and wildlife, opposing exploitation of natural resources [strip mining, oil-drilling, nuclear facilities, agribusiness, monocultures, clear-cutting timber, overuse of pesticides, genetic modification, etc.]) I want to make the city streets "safe for dancing," as my old friend Tony Serra said when he ran for mayor of SF on the Platypus Party ticket.
Well, you got me going there, my friend. Thought-provoking read, as I said. ;-)
xo,
Macha