We stepped lightly, feet sinking into the soft sand that lay beside the creek. The air was heavy with the recent storm, the desert air saturated with wetness, and the undeniable feeling of Other. The babyman demanded we walk, pointing to the creek and providing the sweetest little grunts as encouragement. This he did, again, now, pointing at the birds that lay just ahead on the trail.
The oldest two girls followed closely, listening, feeling. This was to be an awareness walk, an exercise in extending the witch sight, in developing awareness of one’s surroundings and of the Unseen. Lessons in functionality begin early in our family, with emphasis placed not on the idea of having skills but in the development and use of those skills. This was a perfect opportunity to stretch awareness and cultivate that skill.
Committing oneself to adventure and living life on one’s own terms almost requires that the unexpected is to be expected. The plans that one has for themselves are frequently found to be tossed into the wind, with Fate taking, rearranging, and replacing the pieces at will. It necessitates a need for internal calm and adaptability, for stubbornly trying to adhere to that which can no longer work will only make one miserably frustrated. That sort of stress, while to be expected on some occasion, will cripple an adventure and leave one questioning all the choices they’ve made, stretching back through the years to before the adventure ever began. That, for what I hope are obvious reasons, accomplishes nothing but to further one’s misery and prevent one from rising up, pushing through the current challenge, and continuing forward with a life heralded by freedom.
Throwing the Bones