Power of the Best Lady

...Actually, power to all the women! There's a lot of pre-wedding help and reassurance coming from my female friends; it makes me feel very happy and grateful. The Best Lady was brilliant yesterday, and made wonderful suggestions, while my husband-to-be made a wonderful dinner. Today it was down to me to contact the potential DJ (no reply) the passport office (well-meaning but paper swamped) and the local registrars, who have  ignored our email enquiry about giving  Notice to Wed for a month, kept me waiting for ages on the phone and then gave us an interview date that is outrageously late. When I complained, mentioning said email and the delay, they said they would keep an eye out for anything earlier -  but that maybe I should phone week by week to check.Good God.

I don't get why everything is so complicated. Still,at least I have started dreaming again. In my dreams I had somehow got a car into town, and had no way of getting it out again, cos I don't drive. Anyway, my mother met  a lady I know. Both have difficult issues with mental illness. 'Her hair looks every so strange in that style, ' said the lady about my mother.  'Poor thing! That foundation colour doesn't suit her at all!' Said my mother about the lady. Meanwhile I sat in my car and tried to work out how I had got into this mess.

Synchronicity and the magical landscape

Yesterday, my best lady brought me a gift from my old stomping ground; water from the chalice well at Glastonbury.

 I dabbed a little on my forehead and drank a couple of drops in an attempt to do a small profound meditation, somehow trying to connect with old long gone friends Olivia and Rick. I know how weird that sounds, but there's no other way of describing what I am trying to reach. Perhaps because I don't know what that is. My issue? Finding the magic, getting close to some sense of the divine or something if there is anything. Because I am just not feeling it. Wicca, after much study and much heart-searching, is not my way, not really, though I enjoy the vibe. I envy those who feel at home in it, just as I delight in old friends retaking the Camino pilgrimage to get closer to their vision of God. But for me? What is my magic, and where is my road?

I don't know. There is a lot I do not feel anymore.It wasn't just the attack that brought about this change -  ghastly new-age sweetness and ever so slight potential corruption developed into a real heart-sickness for me at the studio. I left when I began to feel my own integrity compromised, something real being buried. Then the burglary happened, I called out for help and nothing and no-one turned up except whatever was in myself. So that was a place of new beginning and new perspective, unpleasant as it might be. At least it has its basis in something true.

I want to feel something, some sense of the numinous, so I started my meditation about half an hour ago. The phone rang. It was one of my pagan mates inviting me to Glastonbury this Thursday through Saturday.

Glastonbury has a lot to offer. It's a Christian and pre-Christian site of worship and strange magics, fairy legends and Arthurian lore. It's also a place of bizarre hackneyed pseudo-spirituality, commercialism and of course, it's own interesting wee drug problem. As always with these places piled up with history and unknown influences, everyone rewrites the landscape in their own image, rather than looking at it... but maybe that's unavoidable. In any case, I have always enjoyed the place. Who cares if it's full of lunatics? At least they are colourful happy lunatics!

But we have forked out a lot of money recently, not just on wedding/honeymoon etc, but on my trip taking place at the end of the month to see Mum in Spain.  While we're not scraping pennies, a lot is going out, and bridal spending has by no means halted.  I could possibly justify it if I wasn't going to see Mum... but really, I don't think it is possible. Blast.

 Maybe I can go later in the year. Halloween might be fun, though the tor would be bitterly cold!