Simple Does It

While I was staying at my stepmother's when she was undergoing surgery, I knew I couldn't practice open pagan things out of respect to her.  She was raised a devout Catholic, and while she had no problem with people believing and practicing what they will on their own terms and in their own homes, I had a feeling (but no actual proof) that she would not appreciate such things in her own house, particularly one where her beloved grandmother lived (and where crosses, statues of the Virgin Mary, and rosaries could be found everywhere as religious decorations, never taken down after her grandmother's death).

But if there's one thing I know about Catholics, it's that they love candles as much as I do.  My soon-to-be stepfather (who has been with my 20 years, and are only just now getting around to tying the knot - the wedding will be on St Patrick's Day in March!) would burn candles for the saints and various other religious figures all the time.  I've seen my stepmother purchase a candle and burn it to nothing on days when she honors those who have passed or as a way to demonstrate that she was thinking about someone extremely sick.  Really, those type of prayers aren't that different from my own - they're bought with intention, infused with intention, and burned with intention.

So, I used a vanilla scented candle in a jar, purchased from a store while on clearance while shopping with my stepmother (I knew I wanted that candle, just didn't know what for at the time), held it between my  hands, and infused it with as much love, healing and positive energies that I could.  Each time I knew that she would be in surgery, have a check-up, or any other time I felt it necessary to add a bit of luck, comfort and extra boost of healing, I lit that candle.

At first, I thought that candle was jinxed, I really did.  It seemed like every time I lit that thing, we would receive more horrible news!  It's only now, looking back, that I can see that each of those things that looked bad were actually good - we know now that the non-cancerous mass actually saved my stepmother's life, since the doctors would have had no reason to look inside her and find the blockage in her bladder before it's too late (they all thought it was a bladder infection to begin with, before the operation to remove the mass.  It was thought that the mass putting pressure on the bladder, which was the reason my stepmother had to pee every 45 minutes - it wasn't until the mass was removed that they discovered a dangerous blockage that prevented the bladder from passing through liquids, leaving behind a sort of toxic sludge that will need to be scraped. To aid in the passing of liquids, a stint will be added in a future surgery).

When I think back to all the times that I have performed spells, they seem so complicated!  Hours, sometimes days - even weeks - went into preparation.  Candles were gathered, oiled, charged.  A formal ritual circle was erected.  The timing had to be right - when Justin wasn't home, when I was feeling good, preferably at night or when I could have no distractions.  Sometimes I incorporated tarot or oracle cards, crystals, herbs, intentions written on paper, affirmations.  I tried to wear colors corresponding to my intention.  I wrote out a detailed ritual beforehand, rewrote it into my magical journal, and took that (rather than my BoS) into the ritual circle with me.

All that is nice, and does make me feel rather witchy, but this experience just goes to show that I've forgotten something: spellwork, rituals, and magick in general does not have to be complicated.  It can be sweet, simple, and to the point.  It's the energy and intent put into the spell that matters, and since my stepmother's daughter was with me when I lit the candle, I know she was sending good, loving vibrations to her mother at least at the time of the lighting and extinguishing of the candle, if not all the way through. 

I do think I may need to keep this in mind in the future.  Words are powerful in and of themselves; candle magick has always been my strong suit.  Since when did I become one of those people that needs 101 items to put my intent out there in the world?

Unexpected Winter Energy

I wanted to beat NaNoWriMo this year.  I really did!  My home was set up to be the perfect reflection of a work space - the best I could have hoped for.  I had a solid group of support using the forums, I had a group of youtubers who made videos of encouragement and frustration while we all wrote, and I even developed a pretty good routine on when I would spend time to write everyday.

And then, my stepmother called.

Turns out that she was sick, and since I'm the only one in my family that doesn't have a job, I was recruited to help her while she was down.  She had a non-cancerous mass growing around her major organs in the abdomen, and it would require major surgery to remove it - and, she would hurt like hell from scraping said organs free of any remaining mass.  Her estimated down time was 3 weeks, which perfectly interrupted my plans for the entire month, including my Thanksgiving.

I was torn about helping.  It's not that I don't mind helping out - I enjoy giving a hand when I'm needed - but I had just come back from spending a month with niece and nephew, and I was still drained.  I was counting on this time to focus on me - that's what NaNoWriMo represented this year; doing something for myself that I always wanted to do.  I wanted - and needed - some down time before the hustle and bustle of the holidays, and I reallly wanted to work on establishing more intimacy in my relationship with my boyfriend.  Usually, autumn picks up in the beginning, and slows down towards the end, and stays slow (or still) up until mid-spring.  Not so this year.  Autumn picked up for me, and continuously gained momentum.

I couldn't keep up the motivation, momentum, and excitement at my stepmother's house.  There was only one spot to hook up my laptop (the screen is broken, so I need to have a monitor hooked up to use it), and her shepherd bothered me the entire time I sat at my laptop, since that was his designated hiding spot that I inconveniently interrupted.  Then there was the fact that whenever my stepmother was up, she expected me to be alert and attentive - meaning no reading, no walking away, no playing on the computer.  The fact that she didn't have internet was cumbersome, since that meant I had to use up my extremely limited shared 3 gig data (shared with 3 other people, no less).  And her house wasn't comfortable like my own - there's just something about your own space that's highly relaxing.

Turns out, nothing is quite as simple as it's supposed to be.  Because my stepmother has a complicated state of health (her doctors don't actually know how she's alive to this day; her case was actually published in medical journals), we were all a bit nervous.  Turns out the 5 hour operation turned into 7, requiring an additional urologist to check things out, and causing a panic in the doctor performing the hysterectomy (they planned on taking everything out down there to remove the mass, which wasn't such a bad idea since various forms of cancers of the uterus and such run in her family) since it appeared that her bladder and kidney actually stopped working.  Words like "kidney failure" were thrown around, and I couldn't for the life of me get a clear answer on anything, since I wasn't actually at the hospital.  My job was to take care of the house that week, supervise her 14 year old daughter, and handle her 2 dogs and 3 cats.

She was supposed to be in the hospital for 3 days.  They kept for over a week.  When she finally came home, she was loopy from pain medications and had 2 catheters stuck in her - one connected to her urethra, the other directly to her kidney.  Worst part?  They were the sort of catheters that are used for surgery, not the sort you take home, and no one would remove either of them for weeks, since her surgeon's son passed away before her check-up date.  Apparently other doctors and surgeons don't know how to look up what happened during a surgery and can't use common sense to figure out what to do next.

Getting her to any doctor was a nightmare, what with it being around Christmas at that point.  No one would schedule anything until her regular surgeon gave the okay.  Every time she went to a check-up, she was told something different about the surgery and all that - she was so loopy that her memory began after the pain meds wore after the operation, and her mother had power of attorney (but never bothered to ask questions about what she didn't understand).

Worse than seeing her drained of color, miserable, and walking around with tubes was her daughter.  Erin was a total nightmare.  It was fine when it was just me and her, but the moment her mother came home, her attitude changed.  I know she was scared and all, but there really was no excuse for her behavior - her attitude, skipping school, lying about who she's going out with, refusing to do her chores then throwing a tantrum (including kicking a hole in the wall and throwing around chairs) when she was grounded - ultimately leading to her phone getting taken away (which is when I found out she was up to a whole lot of other stuff I hadn't even known about).  I have to say, I'm pretty much done with this kid.  I'm nice to her, I'll talk to her, whatever.  But will I go out of my way for her?  Do I trust her?  Do I even want to spend quality time with her?  Not anymore.

Now that my stepmother's surgeon is back to work, we know that she is not experiencing kidney failure after all.  The non-cancerous mass pretty much strangled the kidney and the bladder, and it took a couple weeks for those organs to start bouncing back.  They did take out the catheter attached to the urethra, but since the one attached to her kidney is sutured in place, she will need a procedure to accomplish that.  She does have some issues with a blockage of her bladder, so another surgery will be needed to insert stints there to encourage the flow of fluids.  No one's sure when the next surgery will be; apparently, a hysterectomy takes 5-7 weeks to heal, and since my stepmother managed to rip a hole inside herself from not following the doctor's orders for bedrest, she needs to heal more before anything else can be done.

Right now, I'm at home.  I needed a break from the stress after subjecting myself to that sort of energy for weeks.  I guess I'll be heading back out there whenever the next surgery is scheduled.

I really do feel like I need to put up some boundaries with my family.  I've had a similar problem before, when I was babysitting my niece and nephew - people taking advantage of my generosity, and just assuming that I can everything for them.  An ordeal that would have lasted 3 weeks wasn't initially so bad... but by the time everything is said and done, I won't be able to relax and let things return to normal until February.  My entire winter, rather than being the peaceful introverted time I expect, has been so hectic that I'm not sure how I'm going to find the time to de-stress, unwind, and find peace.