Going Home and the Lions Gate
Home. What does home mean to you? Is it the place you grew up? The place you live now? The place where your spirit resides? What makes home home to you? Is home a singular place or do you have more than one place you call home?
I grew up in a home with my parents and two sisters in Texas. It is a place I often refer to as home. I try to visit as often as possible and in fact I am here now. Sleeping or rather not sleeping in the room which I spent my formative years. My mother still resides in this home at 93 by herself. She is a woman whom I hope to be half as tenacious as while I grow older.
I do not wonder where I got my determination nor drive. My parents gave me a sense of humor and strong grounding. My father was my best friend growing up, he passed when I was 19 and I miss him to this day. He was strict as hell and taught me so much about who I am. It was my mother’s fierce independent nature which forced my father to give us wings and I am forever grateful.
I have been in my home of origin, contemplating life during this Lions Gate opening. It has been a fearsome process of releasing. There is nothing quite like returning to one’s childhood home to stir up loads of repressed feelings to work through which you forgot you had. The verbal banter of alphas all working to get along in a peaceful manner. The necessity of facing our own humanity with humility and autonomy to support sovereignty of self in all. It really does make my head hurt sometimes.
Then there is the home in which we reside. Navigating and negotiating details within the home. It is usually peaceful and yet it take work and negotiations to navigate multiple personalities, deities and practices. I would say we manage well, it is a place I am proud to call home. A house full of Witches, Pagans and Buddhists cohabiting with an earnest desire to raise the vibration of the house, neighborhood and planet.
Then there is the home of my partner, my sanctuary. The place where nothing is really mine so there is nothing for me to “get done” when I have “down time”. Rather I am present in my feels, fatigue, process of everything inside me or I can ignore it all and trip the light fantastic. A space where Ritual is a norm along with play and processing my processes. A place I can come and curl up and allow my fully vulnerable self to ooze out as needed.
I am blessed to know when one home feels too much I can reach out to the other and tap into that which brings peace, understanding and congruence to my world . This has been vital during this time frame. Childhood no matter how wonderful we recall it to be was still a challenging event at best. The dynamics of birth order or just the beginning of reversal of roles and the struggle for autonomy in the process is humbling.
Throughout my life I have been through many spiritual processes culminating with my devotion to Sekhmet more than 25 years ago. For those who don’t know me personally I am allergic to cats, the irony of it all. I have been addressing it through homeopathy for about three years along with other allergies. It has gotten better but I still can’t expect to pet a cat and not wash my hands immediately. But I am learning more about them in my Oakland home as cats have been a life long theme.
As I find myself not sleeping and being present with this Lions Gate and all it has to offer. I share with you this painting I made at six or seven with what appear to be a black cat sitting in the bottom right hand corner. For all my allergies cats have always felt like home too. The illusive animal which is always with me, in me purring and pouncing , finding joy in the slightest things and no matter where they are, always feeling at home.
Gratitude to Sekhmet, the Lion within.