Changes, upheavals, under-heavals, transformations… We are undergoing, over-going, going-through them at my home right now. All I want to do is finish this cycle and ease out towards a future, one right now I cannot see, but wish to hope for. Wish to hope for? It’s too dark in here to see over the hump just yet. I feel like I’m being carried, cradled? I am certainly cradling my cat, focusing all my healing energy on him, singing to him, my own body completely in sync with his, sharing breath, listening to his beating heart, and doing everything I can, including letting him be alone. I miss sleeping with him the most. He curls up into the comfort of shadow a lot lately, this skinny-little-fur-heart-wrecking-ball bombarding me whenever I dig him out of my closet in the morning. He likes to convalesce on a laundry basket of my old clothes, a place where everything must all smell like me. It must be like a big womb of me in there.
I once agreed with a friend that the only magician’s familiars are spirits, but now, my doubts are gone and I no longer give credence to that because of this special relationship I have — in fact I’m going to go as far as saying there are no such things as familiars, spirits whom we conjure and command, sometimes form kindly bonds with, existing separate from the rest of living things, or may not be alive at all and only existing because we think them up. What I am going to say with pure conviction is that every living thing IS a familiar because every thing that lives has a spirit, and because spirit is life force, and all that soul-energy-life-forming-stuff connects us to each other because it simply makes us who and what we are: alive
The illusion is we mentally block each other from a spiritual connection. We create rites to re-connect ourselves to spirit(s) we think are on a separate plane of existence than we are. The relationship to spirit is always there for us to tap into. When we choose to be open, there is no closing the door, and the only thing to fear is, well, things that are bigger than you just like anything else when you decide to go walking through a dense wilderness. There are animals everywhere! All of that I just mentioned is the subject for a conversation for another time. I don’t want to runaway from the tenderness of how I feel in this moment…
How this all relates to me and Mr. Snuggles and all of you is this: what we all have in common is we have life, we are living, and it’s that life stuff that glues my cat and I together, permits us to communicate with pure emotion, allows us to take away each other’s pain, and take part in each other’s lives as if we were destined to take care of each other. I struggle with him to stay alive as do all alive things who wish to continue living and to keep their young living. And yet being alive can be illusory, too, right? So can death? I am finding the boundaries between being and un-being soft lately.
If anyone’s a spirit familiar, I am my cat’s Familiar. He uses me to help himself survive. He charms me to do everything for him. I’m at his meow.
And you know what? It was magic the way we met, the way we carry on, the way we live, the everyday we operate…
All of life, and death, and the continuing of all of it, is magic, and I’m so in love with it, you will never see me, ever, failing to fall out of it.
It goes on… with or without me being able to see what’s ahead.