I had an Epiphany this week.
It might have been some kind of a breakthrough...It might not have been, though. It's too soon to tell.
Kaltes has been a silent Goddess this month. Talking to me through symbols and dreams. Rewarding me with visible evidence of progress.
Kaltes is the Siberian Goddess of the Moon and Fertility, motherhood and childbirth. She is said to control our Destiny.
She’s often depicted as a Hare and can be likened to the Goddess Ostara, where Easter, bunnies and baby chicks originated.
We’re working with the theme of Destiny and I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really excited about it. I know what my life is about; my destiny is completely tied to childcare and creation.
It’s wonderful and rewarding and sometimes monotonous. It’s absolutely important and I do it very well…..but there’s not a lot of glory in it. *sigh*
Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change my destiny for anything but I didn’t really want to explore how underappreciated my role in society is. It’s just depressing!
I refused to focus on it, instead my goals this month were about my other strengths, my art and writing and some personal home improvement projects.
Somehow, Kaltes brought me back around to my destiny in a way that I wouldn’t have imagined.
I started the month out by making little good luck rabbit charms. I couldn’t help it, I was seeing rabbits everywhere; facebook posts, documentaries, even a character in a book I was reading, dressed up in a rabbit costume! I ended up making 10 of the little buggers because they were so fun.
It dawned on me today that 10 is the number of children I’ve taken care of as an adult. Ten little humans who carved little niches into my heart; My 5 kids, my 2 step-sons, my niece, my nephew and a little girl I babysat for 3 years.
I also managed to complete a Spirit Doll, a set of bangles, a set of prayer beads and found a system to organize my writing in a way I could keep track of everything. I pretty much ticked off every ‘thing’ on my goal list by the full moon.
The epiphany came as the moon was waxing, it was an answer to a question I’ve been asking for a couple months.
I have anxiety attacks from time to time, I deal with them. My education in counseling has given me tools to work through most of them and I don’t bother with medications that would just make me loopy and out of it.
For the most part, my anxiety is relatively mild and rarely interferes with everyday life. The worst are the ones that come in the middle of the night; The ones that happen because of a dream.
I’ve had a reoccurring dream all my adult life. Well, more like a theme. The dream changes; the people, the place, the situations have always changed. The dream itself starts out innocuous and usually relates to what’s going on in my life or what tv show I’ve just watched.
The theme is that it always ends with me being stuck in some very small place, crowded, suffocating and I wake up in full blown panic attack.
My claustrophobia was so bad this past winter that on more than one occasion I rushed outside at 3 in the morning, in my pajamas, in the snow just to convince myself I had space to move and breath. It sucked.
My question was why? Why do I keep having this dream? It’s been occurring on and off since I was 18. What does it mean?
I wondered if it was related to past life trauma.
The dreams are the worst because I don’t see it coming but I have had the same reaction watching someone on tv maneuver a tight spot.
The Renaissance Man was laughing at me during an Episode of Lost. I was creeping up the back of my chair, stretching my arms out, making ewww-icky-yucky noises and refusing to look at the television because one of the characters had to crawl through a cave.
(For the record, I can watch surgery without cringing, pick up snakes and toads and bury fish guts in my garden. I think my husband was happy to know that something rattled me, it’s not human to be so stoic)
The one other thing that causes me stress is when my house is too messy. I find this really unusual because as a child my favorite places were messy and cluttered and probably pretty gross underneath because you can’t really clean until you pick up the clutter.
The first warm fuzzy place was my Grandmother’s house; she had had a stroke and couldn’t get around to tidy up. Although rumor had it that she wasn’t much of a house keeper to begin with.
The other place was my best friend’s house. Her folks were avid readers, flea market junkies and hoarders. Their tiny house was packed to the ceiling with junk creating narrow pathways connecting the rooms.
In both homes, I was welcomed and valued and allowed to be myself. But now, when my own home started getting messy and cluttered, I get panicky and freak out. I feel like I’m suffocating and the walls are caving in on me.
Why? What changed? Was I not welcoming and accepting myself? Did I need to work on Self-love?
I also noted that this wasn’t a constant everyday thing. It shows up out of the blue. One day I can handle the sloppy pile of school books and matchbox cars littering the carpet and then the next week I’m a raving lunatic threatening throw away everything and live like the Amish. *my poor family*
The epiphany I had earlier this week was that whenever this showed up; the anxiety and fear of being stuck and suffocated, it always happened when I was feeling stuck in life.
This past winter is a good example. We only have one car which my husband takes to work every day, leaving me with no transportation, in other words, stuck in the house.
I don’t have a regular job, leaving me without steady income.
And because I don’t have a job or a car, I don’t get to see people. My social life is non-existent; making me feel cut off from the rest of the world.
The last time my anxiety was this bad was 20 years ago when I was in the same damn situation; No job, no car, no friends. Only it was a lot worse because there was no internet back then and I was really young and didn’t know that it wouldn’t last forever.
So with this Revelation, I asked myself, “How do I stop feeling stuck”.
I considered the factors; Money, Car and People. Well I couldn’t do much about the car but I could, if I really wanted to, enroll the kids back into public schools two blocks south of us and get a retail position in one of the stores two blocks north of us and walk back and forth until I could afford a car, then get a better paying job farther away.
I have choices. I could do it.
And then my heart broke a little. If I did that, I wouldn’t get to homeschool my kids.
If I did that, I wouldn’t have as much time to create my art and run my business.
If I did that, then I’d never have time to write.
If I chose to get a job, then I’d have to give up, or at the very least, put my dreams on the back burner.
It was my choice. I don’t have to. We’re managing well enough on one income supplemented with rent money from my oldest and a few sales a month. We don’t have the extra’s like a second car or family vacations but we have what we need.
It’s my choice, I don’t have to feel stuck.
I felt a pop and a shift and a sense of relief.
My choice. My Destiny.
And a day later, on the Morning of the full moon, I received a custom order for a Beaded Art Doll designed with “The Essence of a Childbearing Woman”