Memoirs of a (I try not be wicked) Stepmother

I really do try not to be wicked, but sometimes, it seems to be inevitable. I have been a stepmother for almost ten years, surviving the teen years of one daughter, now in college, and existing as the wicked one to another in high school. The oldest, now nineteen, was my sparring partner from very early on. I have never been much of a fighter but this curly haired fire ball seemed to always bring a fight out of me. We have had some really good ones, screaming, crying, the inevitable ripple effect to the real parents catching on to the brawl and the predictable apology. Always the apology. I am really good at that part- I am always willing to say, "I'm sorry" and acknowledge my hurtful actions. Maybe this is the way I have lasted this long in this role. I realized this Thanksgiving what the gift of this relationship is. I am by nature, passive most of the time. I am reasonable and neutral and can take criticism without lashing out. I am good at not fighting. The only person with whom I have fought with on a somewhat regular basis is, my beloved stepdaughter. You might now be thinking what a wicked witch - fighting with a child! I would tend to agree with you. The gift has been so revealed. Fighting is human and since childhood, I haven't done enough of it. Now that I am aware of this, I am secretly hoping that the urge to argue will subside and instead, I will be supplanted with a knowing smile and a silent giggle. Now that I know why, there is no reason to continue with this low level of human behavior. Besides, my partner is intelligent and gaining confidence and it just makes me look bad. I may be wicked, yes, but at least I am honest and as I've mentioned before, I am imperfect but fully human.

Do I Really Look Like a Snail?

I suspect that fierce self criticism is universal. We see ourselves one way and are shocked when we glimpse a photograph of ourselves and see someone different, literally, not quite what we had in mind. I was taking pictures of my mother this afternoon. My mother is nearly 61 years of age but very beautifully seasoned. She has taken very good care of herself, exercising regularly, wearing sunscreen, imbibing on nothing stronger than coffee and maintaining an impeccable sense of style. I am always surprised when I take her picture and experience the reaction that I did today of, "I look like a snail with a bowl on my head". This opinion is never what I am thinking when looking through the lens. It just surprises me that a woman as confident, accomplished and beautiful as my mother can think this of herself. Of course, her sense of humor is strong and part of her beauty is her ability to laugh at herself, but I still don't see it. She didn't look like a snail with a bowl on her head (a remark commenting on her new feng shuei hair cut), she looked like Mom, the beautiful. I realize that I, too, have had moments when observing a photograph of myself that I felt viscerally that the picture in question did not reflect the real me. But let's face it, who hasn't felt that way? Pictures are beautiful because they capture a moment. They freeze time. I don't usually throw pictures away for this very reason. They are all good, even when they are bad. Here's my beautiful mom, the snail with a bowl on her head.

I Am My Own Guinea Pig

As a self-proclaimed therapeutic gemstone practitioner I take a lot of risks in trusting myself. I am becoming more and more aware that it really is the natural medicine that meets the body's needs best. The funny thing is, I have been extensively trained in the mechanisms of pharmaceutical use. I sold "drugs" for nine years. I can explain to you the physical disease state of hypertension, hyperlipidemia, osteoporosis, benign prostatic hyperplasia and much much more and how these states differ from a healthy body. I can diagram many different pathways that pharmaceuticals are used to alter the state of disease. Of the drugs I used to represent, I can explain their mechanism of action and how they are metabolized and excreted from the body. This is my background. The irony is that after being laid off from my job selling drugs, I have been made aware, at a gradual and increasingly intense pace, that I am a gemstone practitioner and I can use stones to affect people on many levels. So, as my own guinea pig, I have to treat myself first. You know, put your own oxygen mask on before helping others. I have been wearing a daily prescription of stones for years now. The Rx changes from day to day, but not that much. I always wear Carnelian. I love Amazonite- it makes me happy, and Aquamarine makes me strong when I need to speak publicly or defend. Lately, in the last three weeks or so, I have been experiencing all kinds of bizarre symptoms. I am shaky, (where my jewelry-making hands have always been strong and steady, now they quiver and quake), my skin itches, my body aches as if I have a fever, but I don't, I am stiff and exhausted. My sense is that I am going through a vibrational shift and my body id adjusting. It is awkward but I want the shift to occur- I want to grow in my abilities. I keep telling myself, it's worth it, but wondering, when will it stop? I was working today at my desk, under my altar and two stones made themselves known to me. They were Charoite and Rutilated Quartz. Here are their general properties:

Charoite

A stone of transformation. The soul stone that overcomes fear. Charoite stimulates inner vision and spiritual insight and aids in coping with enormous change at a spiritual level. Encourages vibrational change and links to the higher realities. At the same time, it provides deep physical and emotional healing. It helps you accept the present moment as perfect. Charoite grounds the spiritual self into everyday reality.

Rutilated Quartz
An effective integrator of energy at any level. It heightens the energetic impulse of Quartz and is a very efficient vibrational healer. Spiritually, Rutilated Quartz is said to have a perfect balance of cosmic light and to be an illuminator for the soul, promoting spiritual growth. It facilitates contact with the highest spiritual guidance. It draws off negative energy and and breaks down the barriers to spiritual progress, letting go of the past. Helpful for therapists and counselors as it filters negative energy from a client and provides protection against psychic attack.

I placed one of each stone in both sides of my bra until I can create a new bellychain for myself. I am less shaky already. Isn't my work cool?

Uncomfortable

I am so uncomfortable right now. The mess is huge in my house. Every corner, every surface reflects a big project back to me. The garage is so full it is practically oozing stuff. The back yard, my space, is littered with hen poop, dog poop and way too many cats. I have ideas I am aching to act on, but the laundry list of things to do before the creativity can begin is soooo long. It makes me tired, exhausted actually, to think of all that I need to do. Sometimes I wish I could be a cat, my only requirement for the day, to log my twenty hours of sleep, the only hard choice - to sleep under the covers of Kieran's bed or curled up on Cadence's chair amongst the pillows? My husband walks in, looks at me and thinks, "she's at her computer again." Little does he know. The work seems to be my destiny, the cost of what is to be here, now. Oh, I forgot to mention the piles of bills, papers, essential and urgently important PTA stuff that needs to be addressed last week. It is all piled like layers of mica rock, slippery and unstable, ready to slide off my desk. I am now taking this moment to write to you and to myself this reminder of the bigger picture. This is all temporary. The discomfort, the mess, the hen poop and the cats are but a flash in time, insignificant details to pepper my life this morning with the seasoning required to establish a culinary contrast . These are the acrid spices of my dish alone. They are but the palate cleanser for the fun, deliciously satisfying main course that will be served when I have cleared my plate (and my garage).

Do You Believe in Magic?

I do. I want to, at least. I believe that time can stop when I am driven in a thought and I have to abandon the dishes, the chores, the stink under my armpits to shop online for rough stones. I am driven. Time stops for me. Nothing exists. Have I mentioned that I am driven? I can't tell you what I will be doing with these stones or what they will be doing with me, all I can say is that I am driven to seek them out. It boarders on obsession. I have a suspicion that you can relate. The trees practically paint themselves, don't they? The words pour from your soul through your fingertips. You don't even need to edit, do you. I want to be on the short list for the book signing party, by the way. I'm just letting the universe know that. I want to be the matron of honor for Lara's wedding to Mr. X. I've never had that privilege, and I know that no one could do the nurturing matron of honorly magic better than I. The magic is tingling through me. Even the recent string of deaths does not phase me. The energy is alight and we need to know that. Our fleshy bodies are simply tools, like a paintbrush or a string instrument. We need to use them- or waste them, dusty and neglected. They will not last forever- nor should they. Get a taste of the limits and the limitlessness and run with it, sparked and alight with a new fire. GO- lose all sense of time, if only for a little while, and feel the fire flash through you, the undeniable passion happen and exist in full force. Then, take some of that with you into the shower, while you wash the dishes and shampoo the cat barf off of the carpet.