Category Archives: I Am Myself

Dragon Business

I have wanted to tackle this topic for some time now, but it really requires so much back story that I’ve found it immensely off putting. But, these things don’t write themselves, so I am going to make a serious attempt, while trying to go light on the back story, because of time and my attention span.

So, I am the rebirth of a dragon-child who lived a long time ago in another realm.  Almost all of my dragon Clan was annihilated after a sordid chain of events that I’m not even going to touch here.  Later, I was murdered by a jealous relative from the Other side of my Family. This is important for you to know because those are the reasons why I am who I am, and where I am, in this realm and time period.

The other things you should know are that the realm my Clan is from is one with a long history which includes multiple species that evolved from a common ancestor, two of which were and are the dominant two species in the realm.  These two related dragon species claimed about half of the realm’s land and resources each.  Let’s call them Species A, and Species B.

Species A are bipeds.  They have a fairly humanoid shape and developed advanced technology in their realm, including the manipulation of DNA.  Species B are what one would commonly think of when pondering dragons– large, serpentine, intelligent.  The cultures of these two species could not have been farther removed.  Species A were conquerors.  Species B preferred a wild existence.  Wherever they met, they clashed.

Eventually, Species A gained the technological edge in these skirmishes, and went on to enslave great numbers of Species B, using them as beasts of burden, or as weapons.

During their enslavement, some members of Species B were experimented upon, genetically, having many physical traits of Species A impressed upon them to make their servitude less cumbersome within the architectural structures of their oppressors.  Very few were altered, and bred for this purpose.

After some generations of this “house-slavery”, a revolution was sparked by a dragon named *Swvhrnn (pronounced Soo-ver-EEn), who was an unaltered slave.  Inspired by the spirit who would become the Patroness of my Clan and chief Goddess of the realm, the White Dove, Swvhrnn convinced a prominent “house-slave”, whose name is lost to history, to lead the other “house-slaves” in revolt, joining their brethren in the taking of the capitol city.  The leaders of Species A were murdered by the “house-slaves”, and at the instruction of the White Dove, the first Clans were formed.

The “house-slaves”, and many of the original non-altered revolutionaries became the first dragons of my Clan.  During the reformation, in order to prevent the total destruction of Species A’s culture, and thus a prolonged conflict, the White Dove decreed that the cleanest way to subjugate the remaining dissidents of Species A, was to install one Clan to rule over all the Clans of both Species.  As I’m sure you’ve guessed, the White Dove chose my Clan, and we’ve ruled the realm ever since, saving for the time period after our annihilation and before my rebirth.

And there’s the back story.  What I do for the Clan now is preserve the cultures of both Species A and B, as taught to me by the Ancestors, and by their living descendants.  I learn the history by listening and recording it by hand for future generations.  I also preside over the rituals for the White Dove, embodying Her when necessary.  In this realm, She has a manifestation who answers to the name Columbia (Columba – the White Dove), Goddess of Freedom– and so, I am called Columbine.

Because of my ancestral history, dragon and human, I can not abide slavery.  Neither can the White Dove/Columbia.  In every realm I visit, I spread Her ideals of civil liberty whenever I am afforded the opportunity.  Even in our own realm my people are not forced to swear fealty, but the Clans have come and done so of their own volition.  They desire to be united under the auspices of the White Dove, the Great Liberator.

In addition to those things already mentioned, my other chief concern is securing a living for my people.  That means brokering treaties and trade agreements between Clans, and between our realm and Other realms.  It means being a strong force politically, and remaining useful to my Father, Zeus, to whom I have sworn fealty.

Our Clan also had an important job to do concerning the wellbeing of Olympos, and eventually we will resume those duties.  But as of now, our focus must be on regaining strength, so that we may perform our duties properly, when the time comes.

Now, I realize that I haven’t been too terribly specific regarding my duties, but as I’m sure you can imagine, much of it involves private Clan secrets that I am not at liberty to divulge.  That I was given permission to share this much is extraordinary.

I also don’t know if other dragon Clans, from different realms, are in any way similar to my own, but frankly, that is irrelevant.  Nothing about me, what I do, what I was made for, or my Family, is very similar to anyone else’s experience.  And that is just fine.


*I realize that this spelling makes absolutely no sense using English letters, but the Storykeeper was very insistent on this spelling in English.  It is not my place to correct the Storykeeper.  I am sure he has his reasons.

Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don’t

Because, as a woman, I must stand as a tribute to patriarchy no matter what my choices are, because choice is an illusion?  That is, according to the logic of some.

If I dress in a modern way, with heels and more revealing clothes, slut shaming is the rule of the day.  I’ll also garner far more sexual attention than if I were covered.  BUT, if I cover and dress more modestly, regardless of the history of abuse that caused me to make that decision in the first place, I am participating in patriarchal cultural norms.

Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do?

I often hear cries of “Embrace your body!  Don’t be ashamed!”. Yeah, no.  I’m not ashamed of my body.  My body is quite lovely, and if you saw it, you’d likely agree.  The point of my choice to cover is to remind myself first, others second, that my body is mine.  It belongs to me.  I took a dangerous stand against one specific male in my life who truly believed that my body belonged to him.  It didn’t.  It doesn’t.  It’s mine.  I cover my body because I don’t want him, or you, or anyone else looking at it.  Period.  End of story.  I don’t give a flying fuck if you think I’m doing it for the patriarchy.  I can’t change your mind.

When people decide they know better about how someone else ought to dress and feel about themselves, they are giving lip service to feminism, and nothing more.  When somebody tells you why they do this thing that you have decided is a failure in asserting their own claim over their own body, you’re just ignoring their lived experience.  You know better than they do.  They’re not feminist enough.  They’re brainwashed.  Etc., etc., etc.

Fuck you.  And fuck your elitist attitude.

Women have the right to wear what they please, and you may keep your opinions to yourself.  It’s not all black and white.  All covered women are not male tools anymore than all uncovered women are.  Cause, you know, Rebecca in her mini skirt is showing her legs.  Does that mean because men can see her legs that she is displaying her legs for their titillation?  No.  It’s 90 degrees outside and Rebecca is hot.  Also, mini skirts please Rebecca.  End of story.

If you see me and I am veiled, am I veiled because a man told me to?  Because obviously, I have no brain, or will, or agency of my own, right?  No.  I am veiled because it damn well pleases me to be veiled in public.  Because my body is mine, and I’ll do what I fucking want with it.  I will dress it however I fucking please, and I will speak up for your right as a human being to do the same.

You won’t hear me making value judgements on the way you choose to dress, because I am a real motherfucking feminist, who believes people can decide for themselves, based on their own lived experience, what is best for them, and what makes them feel empowered and most comfortable.

Take your goddamn feminist policing elsewhere.  Preferably back behind your own closed doors, where you can evaluate the reasons why you think you need to be the arbiter of other people’s clothes.

Bye, Felicia.

My Polytheism

The very best thing about my Polytheism, is that it’s mine.  I don’t have to pretend like my personal practice is indicative of any universal “right way”.  And even in the areas where my Polytheism mingles with others’ Polytheisms, those similarities are only superficial.  I may be Hellenic in inclination, and even on the traditional side of Hellenic in my worship practices, but I concluded a long time ago that I was not participating in Hellenismos, as it is commonly known and touted among those more traditionally inclined than I am.  My Polytheism has no name, and if it did, I might just call it “open source”, for I am open to all relevant sources.

My Polytheism is flexible.  I am spoused to an Olympian, and my ultimate loyalty is to Zeus and Hera.  My Territories swear fealty to the High King of Olympos, but there are no commandments (anymore) which prevent me from seeking knowledge or companionship elsewhere.  I have Family among the Norse Pantheon, and Friends among the Demonic Pantheon.  I freely learn the ways of my people, Dragons from a distant realm.  My Polytheism isn’t “pure”, and it never was.

My Polytheism has no boundaries but those I choose to adhere to.  I follow the Maxims to the best of my ability, and I follow the Protocols given to me by Apollon, which are always subject to change.  I rely on the wisdom of my Treasury Sisters, and others whom I trust and respect, but there is no ultimate authority in my Polytheism, save for the Blessed Gods and my own conscience.

My Polytheism is no one else’s Polytheism.  I don’t practice to please the masses, or to impress them, or to wield power over them, in body, mind, or heart.  I am a Queen of specific spirits.  Humans have nothing to do with my duties.  And if I ever again include humans, it will be because I choose to, not because I was compelled by a Higher Power.

My Polytheism is unique, and nonconforming.  I follow my true will, wherever it leads, and I embrace my true nature, however it presents.  My Polytheism exists everywhere I exist, and only where I exist.  It is Immersive, encompassing the whole of my life, and each thought and action within it.  It is the mirror of my soul, displayed for all to see, but for no one to hold.  None except me.

I am my Polytheism, just as you are yours.  And as each of us are unique, so are our ways.  As they should be.  For within a hundred Polytheists, you’ll find a hundred Polytheisms.  One for every individual.  When you know this deep within, others’ Polytheisms, no matter how foreign or similar, will posses no power to intimidate, or to dictate your own.

My Polytheism is freedom.  What’s yours?

Beauty Is Too Complicated

I don’t think of myself as beautiful.  I don’t see myself as beautiful.  I have an eating disorder, and although I happen to be in the last months of pregnancy, I can’t help but be more than a little bit relieved that I didn’t gain as much weight this time as I did with my last pregnancy.  Is that shallow?  You betcha.  I can acknowledge that this isn’t the healthiest line of thinking.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I gained about 65 pounds, which put me firmly in the fat category in my own mind.  After the birth I pretty much stayed that way for the next eight years.  It really bothered me.  I tried everything I could think of to lose weight but none of it worked.  You see, I’d never been fat before.  My whole life up to that point was like a blissful skinny dream.  I’d never weighed more than 115 pounds before then, and was usually at 110.  Anything above that was like the worst thing I could imagine.

I tried to starve myself skinny on more than one occasion, but all I ended up doing was making it impossible to function.  I would even purge what little bits I did eat throughout the day.  It was awful.  I was so depressed.  I truly believed that in order to be beautiful, I had to be a certain size.  And even today, knowing all the things I know and having lived through that hell, I still can’t dream of being happy in a larger body.  I even have to set alarms to remind myself to eat, while pregnant, because if I don’t, I will not eat enough in a day.  This happened to me today, in fact.  I went like seven hours without eating anything, and this morning I almost talked myself out of breakfast.  Can you believe that?  How fucked up is that?  It’s pretty fucked up, let me tell you.

I often wonder just how all this got started in my head, and when.  I remember growing up, and in my childhood not a single person ever told me they believed I was beautiful.  It never happened, not even once.  Not even my mother, or sister, or grandmother, or aunt ever told me I was beautiful.  I hear sometimes people getting upset because they heard ‘you’re beautiful’ in their childhoods more often than hearing things like ‘you’re intelligent’, or ‘you’re talented’, and it makes me feel stupid for ever wanting to hear the words ‘you’re beautiful’.  Apparently, I’m rather shallow.

So, all I had to go on were conventional beauty standards, which, I was skinny, so at least I had that going for me?  It wasn’t perfect, though.  I didn’t develop any meaningful female shape until I was about seventeen.  I was a super late bloomer, so I wasn’t getting any attention from anyone my own age, just old ass perverts on the street.  And when I did eventually get a boyfriend, that turned out to be a disaster of epic proportions.  Abuse and rape happens, even in highschool.

So, where am I going with all this?  What on Earth does it have to do with this religious blog?  (Aside from the fact that it’s my blog, and I’ll write about whatever I want.)  Well, it’s because of Apollon.  It’s because He sees someone that I apparently do not.  He has always been consistent in His praise of my so-called beauty.  I believe that He believes what He says, but it doesn’t coincide with what I see.  I don’t even know why it matters to Him if I see what He sees anyway.  I’ve accepted that my human form isn’t at all like my natural astral form.  If you saw me on the astral, you’d likely never think to associate the two forms.  I can accept that Over There I am physically beautiful, while being the complete opposite over here.  But that isn’t enough for Apollon.

In these past few weeks He has been asking me to look at pictures of myself. It’s been really hard for me, since I don’t take a lot of pictures, or allow many pictures to be taken of me.  He’s also been insisting that I share those pictures with others.  It makes me so uncomfortable, I can not even tell you how much.  But I’m doing it.  I don’t feel any differently about myself, but I’m willing to see where this takes me.

I struggle with the thought that beauty doesn’t matter at all.  I’d rather like to believe that, than to continue to hurt myself with the knowledge of my lack of it.  I think maybe I’d rather believe that than to believe what Apollon is telling me, and trying to show me.  It’s been such a comfortable thought all these years, and one that’s gotten me through a lot of tough times, psychologically.  But maybe it’s run its course?  This whole trusting in your God thing is not easy.

Also, I’m not fishing for compliments, people, just processing my thoughts. I’m shallow, but I’m not that shallow.

Mini Update

TRIGGER WARNING:  Discussion of Birth Trauma

Hello, dear readers!  I’m just coming around here to offer a small update on my goings on and general whatnot.  There’s no real theme to my life right now, except for maybe trail and error.  You see, many of the things I thought were going to happen, and things I thought I would be able to do, are just not possible for me, and may never be.  The biggest factor in this is my health, which has been quite poorly this year and last, on top of a pregnancy that I am now entering into the final stages of.

For example, recently, I’ve battled another round of depression which has come with thoughts of mild self-harm.  I haven’t acted on any of them, but to know that I have these thoughts is quite troubling for me, especially now. I’ve also been nursing a physical injury that occurred in early December of last year.  It doesn’t seem to be getting much better, even after almost two months of bed-rest and tender care.  I’m not certain what all I can do about it, but I keep hoping it will heal at least enough for the birth.

And then there’s that.  The delivery of the baby, which carries its own brand of anxiety.  I’ve written before about how perilous birth can be, even in these modern times, but what I never said outright was that there’s a real possibility that I may not make it out of the delivery room alive.  Such was the case with the birth of my first child.  The two of us were lucky to survive.  If I’d had to deliver a baby in almost any previous time period, it would have been near certain death, for me and the baby.

These are the things that I have to worry over.  This is my life right now. So, to say that I’ve been reluctant (read: absolutely unwilling) to travel outside of my small, comfortable sphere is really not giving credit where credit is due. But I’ve come to accept facts about what is best for me, and what I really want out of life.  Being so near to the possible death transition tends to do that to a person.

I know that I prefer to be cloistered.  I don’t do socializing, mainly due to my mental and physical health.  I’m becoming more and more okay with this as time passes.  I love writing.  I’ve rediscovered my muse it seems, and have been working on a novel I’d set aside several years ago.  It’s going very well, and I’m not making the same mistake I did the last time with it.  I won’t be giving myself any arbitrary deadlines for finishing it, because they only ever stressed me out to the point of not wanting to write.  Also, I don’t want to think about any kind of deadline, for anything, considering how things may or may not go in hospital.

One other thing that I’ve rediscovered, is my oracular path.  Besides the short, random deliverances I’ve been giving on this blog, I had the opportunity to respond to the needs of few good people directly just a few days ago.  I was truly surprised by how at ease I felt during the ritual. There were no tools, save for myself (and a pencil and paper), and it felt immensely right for me to perform in that way.  For those who remember my old spiritual services, I would mainly utilize the Tarot, or the Alphabet Oracle, though this was not always the case.  I can’t promise I’ll be offering my services again soon, or on this blog specifically, but if and when I do, I’ll likely keep with this new found confidence in my ability to deliver without need of external tools.

Finally, I contributed what energy I could to the collective Working against Boko Haram that occurred last week, with witches and magic-workers from around the world.  I won’t be sharing details of my ritual, because just as in my youth, I know, I dare, I will, and I keep silent.  That’s just how I roll when magic is concerned.  I will say that social justice Work will continue to be a feature in my life and path, and I am not the least bit ashamed.

And… I suppose that really is about it for this mini update.  I hope everybody else is enjoying life and all that it brings.  I know I try to make the most of every day I have on this Earth, and I encourage you all to do the same, whenever possible.  Have a wonderful rest of the week, dear readers!

Ciao.