Hoist the Black Sail

So it came to pass that my dreams were shattered on Samhain 2015.  After many years of devoted service, I was served divorce papers from my beloved.  Despite over a decade of adventures, two children, a coven and a wealth of memories between us, our paths are diverging in a most unexpected and aggressive manner.  Further investigation proved that insult was heaped upon injury, our finances drained, my access revoked, and I was left to keep the household going with approximately $183 to my name. My spouse wandered off to find himself, and wanders still. Our children are quite young, and my anxious dog puked for about a month straight as we clamored to deal with fallout.

For the past 6 months I have been living in an altered state, moving through calamity at a rapid pace.  Friends have come, friends have gone.  It is better so, for these times are not for the faint of heart.  As always, I bow to the wisdom of Pluto, and accept that this chaos is ultimately benevolent, for it has forced me to recognize who I truly am. I am awakened from stasis into kinetic motion.  Ironically, this is not my first rodeo, nor my first broken home.  I give thanks that I am a woman of 35 instead of a child of seventeen, and the hard lessons of my youth have served me well.

Adrift in a sea of chaos, I have found a strange peace.  I am reminded of a chance conversation (if there is such a thing) I had concerning Chaos Magic with some Wiccans earlier this year.  They asked me to explain it, and having imbibed a significant quantity of wine at this point, I had little to say besides it works, and every Chaos magician I had known was kind of arrogant or incredibly sexy.  Usually both.  This flippant remark amused someone who was listening to our conversation, who turned out to have been a student of Chaos several years back.  I said he proved my theory and we all laughed.  What can I say? It seems I have a type.

A further corollary on these matters is that many moons ago, long before I was bound to Wiccan oaths or praxis, my fertile young mind delighted in savoring the chaotic musing in Liber Null and Psychonaut, which was all I could find in those days.  My early upbringing had defeated any notion of inviolate hierarchy in regards to social or magical constructions of the multiverse, so a kind of plasticity of belief seemed entirely rational and influenced my formative years.  Despite indulging in the games of institutionalization (College, work, marriage) I have always maintained that there is no order outside of that which we wish to participate in.  The margin between order and anarchy is extremely slim, the only nomizing force we have is the Self, and the cooperation of our loved ones.  All else is illusion, but these dreams are the stuff our world is made of so we play our parts as best we can until the next performance.

I confess that when the disruption began I was in a sorry state.  I had played the game so long that when it was done, I was afraid of the next diversion.  Having children had made me vulnerable, open in a way I had not been before when I laughed at the dark.  Mortgages and car payments tied me down, left me exposed to a host of adult ills that my younger self would not have bothered with, being free to pull up stakes at any time.  My faith was shaken.  Were the gods dead, or merely sleeping? For the past few months I wandered the the continent, kids in tow, numb with the weight of it all.  Good friends were a beacon, in the frozen north of Minnesota, in the balmy beauty of the West Coast, and at home in sunny Florida.  I have not been without support in this time.  However, there was one book that I credit with changing my brain, revitalizing synapses long subdued and accelerated my ability to change my circumstances into something much more pleasing.

Brothers and Sisters, introducing Gordon White.  I would very much like to meet this man one day to thank him personally for penning this little gem.  I will not bore you with a book review, but merely state that this particular offering worked like a catalyst on my mind, and subsequently, my life.  I will say this is likely to be the clearest, most coherent book of Chaos Magic I have encountered.  I highly recommend it for those unafraid to deal with economic terrorism with humor and clarity.  The key takeaway that has energized me is a renewal of my understanding of Chance as a prime motivator in my life, and that nothing happens for a reason.  The worst drivel that we tell ourselves and others is that everything happens for a reason.  Sure, there are causes, but the most limiting thing we tell ourselves when faced with challenges is that we need to accept whatever nonsense is being doled out as part of some Divine plan, or worse yet, “Destiny.” I grind my teeth when I hear this idea, which I hear a lot these days as most folks believe they are offering sympathy.  While I understand the urge toward kindness, I reject this sentiment.  There is no reason.  There are only patterns.  Variations within the pattern create paradigm shift, but perspective is necessary to recognize these opportunities, and to shape them.  When one is freed from the guilt associated with the idea of an ordered universe, one is empowered to chart a new course into unknown territory. Io Chaos!

So in this spirit, I have hoisted the black sail.  I have become the Corsair, the captain of my own ship, and feel at peace in a sea of chaos.  All mutineers have jumped ship, or walked the plank, and we are laughing once again in the dark.  The wind is at our back, and the wheel is in my hand.  New crew members are clamoring to lend a hand, whether it be to tie a rope, or simply sing a song to lift our spirits.  Fortune favors the bold. There are deals to be made, and treasure to be won.  The little deckhands have become quite canny, and smile while climbing the rigging.  We have several ports in exotic locations with fast friends awaiting our return, to swap stories and divide the loot from our wanderings.  Love may kill me, but today is a good day to die.