Death and Transformation

Posted @ 14:01:46 on 23 November 2008

I find myself being in a time of endings again. The Death card has come up again this week for the first time in a long time, except this time he isn't signalling my Mum's death, he is pointing out the fact that my life is changing beyond all recognition at the moment. He is signalling the death of the old self and the birth of something new. I know I am going through one of those transformational processes, and it feels a little as if I am deeply immersed in it and experiencing every excruciating detail, but another part of me stands off at a slight distance just quietly observing the process and wondering where it will lead to ultimately. I think it is a demonstration of what Terry Pratchett refers to as a witches first thoughts, and second thoughts. While my first thoughts are feeling a little stressed out and scared by what is happening and trying to deal with the veritable mountain of bureaucracy I must engage with at the moment, my second thoughts tell me things are just as they should be, and everything will be just fine.

So my old life has ended, I have left the place I thought of as home and I am now living with my brother. My favourite hairdresser has now departed to go back to New Zealand after four years of me going to see him and talking about life, the universe and everything. Psychic school now only has one more lesson left. I now have a more steady confidence in my ability to pick up and pass on information from beyond the veil. My teacher will be leaving for San Francisco in the New Year, and through this process I like to think that she is not just my teacher, but my friend also. The routines that I had carefully built up around my life have been disrupted, and thrown out of sync, and mostly they are just stopped in their tracks. The challenges I once thought were so traumatic at work now just seem like part of the old routine, and really not that important in the scheme of things.

Most nights are spent on the phone to Egypt at the moment. There is a skeleton of a routine that has evolved over the last few weeks, whereby the first thing I do when I wake up is check my phone for a message. Most mornings there is one waiting for me. A few words to brighten my morning, and then I have to get ready for work, and try and pretend that everything in my life is normal. By lunchtime I am desperate to hear the sound of his voice, so I sit or walk around Lincoln’s Inn Fields, listening to the voice of my beloved, and talking about our plans for the future. After work signals the next time we can talk, sometimes on my way to the station, and sometimes only when I get home after classes. Sometimes we talk via Messenger, when I can see his beautiful face as he sits in an internet cafe in Luxor, and sometimes it is just a crackley long distance line. Last night he sat there for an hour and a half waiting for me, as I did not know he was there. Sometimes he can be impatient and demanding, and other times he has the patience of a saint. Then once again, when I turn in for the night, we will talk until the early hours. Sleep does not get the pride of place it once had in my life. Sometimes there are more important things to be thinking and talking about.

Sometimes the topic is the future, and sometimes it is the past. At which point in my time in Egypt did we both know that we liked each other? At which point did we wish the other would take our hand? At what moment did I first wish that this magic would not have an ending? When did I realise this was not a fickle passing crush, and why did I not say anything to him sooner? Life for us still has to move forwards, so I know that whatever happened developed in the way that it had to. And the most consistent thing I can see is that I am so lucky I found this person, and that he made me be honest and speak from the heart instead of wrapping the truth in the muffling blanket of “It is just a holiday thing, it is not serious. People don’t really run away to Egypt”, and just in the nick of time. (I took my decision to stay just an hour or two before we were due to leave for the airport) From here we have to plan forwards and trust that the gods will be on our side. I am busy asking Jupiter to help with impossible tasks, and so far he has not let me down.

At first I tried to keep my loved ones up to date with exactly what was happening, and what decisions had been made. But as the days have gone on, it has become too stressful. I was trying to balance between not worrying people, and knowing what I really wanted, and because circumstances keep changing and the status of events keeps metamorphosing into something unrecognisable and strange to the outside observer. This week I decided to just talk to my love, and not worry everyone else, and since then, my stress levels have reduced greatly, and a gradual calm has descended. Life is now more loving, and less of a battle with worrying about what other people think about what I am doing. So now I must follow my heart and let it be the compass that guides me, instead of trying to juggle different thoughts and opinions and judgements. Maybe it signals that I have gone mad, or maybe I have just grown up at last.

So while the rest of my life is looking at endings, this part is now very much focussing on beginnings. For once in my life, Death really is signalling “Death and...” death and transformation, new beginnings, the death of the old self and the start of the new. Even my Egyptian is telling me he wants me to forget the heartbreaks of the past and start afresh with him. He will not behave as my people of the past did. He will not be unfaithful, or lie, or break my heart. At first I found this difficult, as my inner cynic was busy telling me he was just spinning me a yarn, and that people aren’t really that honest and that good. The voices of the doubters would ring in my ears telling me this is what men like him do, find a stupid woman and ensnare her in a web of deceit. But if that were true, what would he have to gain from me? I have no money, I have no house, he doesn’t want to leave his family and job and life in Egypt where he can earn more money than he can here, and yet he wants to be where I am and so is willing to leave those things for an uncertain future in a strange and cold country he has never been to before. So my death is now the death of the cynic. The death of the ego that whispers “fear” into my thoughts. Be afraid of him, don’t trust him, he couldn’t possibly be telling you the truth, because what would someone have to gain by being honest? These thoughts have gradually over the course of the days turned into the thought that maybe, if I just trust him, and myself and my gods and leap into the unknown, the future could be a warm and loving place to be. For me and for us the future starts here. It will be hard work, and there may be difficulty on the way, but now we have a partnership of two to face these things. Maybe this time Death will be my ally, and give way to the Sun instead. Either way, I still cannot help but marvel at how our lives can be so magical and transformational, and I believe it is all as it should be.

Bewitching

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