How to Witch - reconnecting to magic and Spirit

One of the biggest problems we face as creatures of faith is that we do, indeed, lapse.

Please don't misunderstand.  I'm not saying we lose our connection, and this doesn't include Atheism (to which I admit a large degree of ignorance - there are enough resources in the world to teach you about it, so I'm only mentioning it).  What I mean is that, whatever faith one professes to follow, there will be differing degrees of solid belief at times, like the tides:  sometimes the push of water is strongest, at other times barely perceptible.

Let me stop myself there - although I love simile, I tend to use it too much in my descriptions.

That said, I've spoken to priests of many denominations and many faiths, spoken to the lay people of these faiths, and spoken to those in-between, the serious adherents.  They've all told me about the same "tide effect" in their faith.  My personal belief is that those times the tide of faith ebbs is when have the deepest lessons to learn about our own spiritual selves, the make or break of our current state of being, and a slew other things.

In my own spiritual life, I've had some serious ups and downs.  Like, Mt. Everest heights and Mariana Trench lows.  I've been struggling with real-world things to such a degree that I've let them affect my Spirit, dampening the voices of my Guides and Teachers.  I no longer have a tangible connection to my Totem or Spirit Animals - I vaguely remember a Bear, a Wolf and a Stag.  Sometimes I have a Kitsune as well.  But their lessons, their connection, is so faint right now I sometimes despair.

This loss of faith has even affected my magical practice, so badly so that as I sit here I can't immediately think of even one basic bit of magic.  I hope I can by the time I get to the flesh of this post...

But I no longer fear.  This seems a bit of a paradox, but hear me out.  I no longer fear losing the connection to my Spirit-self like I did before, because I know it's there.  That bond cannot be broken - it simply fades out to such a degree we can't feel it - thus the sensation that it isn't there.  Although restoring the connection takes work, it is doable, and as we are a creature of faith, I have faith that I will be OK with myself.

But how to...?  This is the part of this post I've been trying to build up to (though I have to admit my writing has slid badly over the last few years, along with my reading.  One connected to the other and such-forth).  As each person is an individual, this path will depend on the reader, but below are some pointers and thoughts, with snippets of conversation I've collected and remembered as time went on.  I am applying these to my life and would welcome more ideas to add to my "collection".  I would also like feedback from anyone reading this as to how they found their way back to their Spirit-selves, their Witchiness.

First and foremost, take it slow:

We live in a world of near-instant, or close enough, gratification, and I feel this is one of the reasons we tend to fade out our magico-religious/-spiritual connections.  In the old days (to me, as little as 15 years ago) we sent letters via the post office.  The letter took a week to reach its destination, and then another week or more was spent waiting for the reply, all depending on the recipient's reply time.  Most people were either using dial-up Internet, or, shock and horror, none at all (I only learnt to use Google after I'd left school).  Patience was forced upon us.

Now, we need to pull those older habits forward.  In a culture where certain groups and covens/related allow for the initiation of Priests and High Priests (remember who's writing this - this is the gender-neutral and not masculine description) in the space of six months, we lose so much of the feeling and connection to our Craft that this knowledge is empty.  I remember sitting down for first my Postulancy, then my First Degree and simply wishing it were over.  Once into my First Degree I wished we had more time.  Not to build knowledge, but to strengthen the connection.

Long and short, don't rush into a fix.  Slow down, sit still and work at it at a pace that won't have you freaking out over how long it's taking.  True quality takes its time.

Relax:

This is going to come up again and again, so bear with me.

Being all stressed and wigged out with your weak connection isn't helping matters.  You learn and understand things much more easily when you're relatively relaxed, when you feel yourself getting tight across the shoulders restoring your connection, slow down, take a deep breath (or maybe a few) and work at is calmly from a slightly more refreshed frame of mind.

Don't compare yourself to others:

I can't stress this enough.  Don't be so hard on yourself.  Comparing yourself to others is not only unhealthy mentally, but you tend to lose more and more track of where you should be on your path.

Anna's tooring up a storm left, right and centre; Suzie's so chill and connected she basically has a direct line to Elphame.  First and foremost, you don't know what they've been through to reach the levels they're at at that moment in time.  Okay, so maybe, on the other hand, they're just built that way, but still, even so that's their journey, not yours.

You are you.  As a human, or stellar being, you are part of a group and a group identity.  However, in all of that, you're still an individual, and as such, you're unique.  Take your own path to get where you need to.  Part of that journey is detours.  Part of it is potholes.  How you deal with it and how you overcome your obstacles is yours and yours alone.  Like Harley says, "You own that sh*t!"

Don't force yourself into an identity:

The Bearmaiden and I have spoken about this a few times  over the last year or so.  It took her a long while to get any kind of identity for herself.  She eventually settled on "Pagan", even though her path as such doesn't really follow how we understand it. This eventually became a problem for her, to the point that in the end she came to the conclusion she can't even really call herself that.  Eventually she let the moniker fall away, as that is not who she feels she is.  She is still herself and she still follows her own path, but is unfettered in terms of who she falls in with and identifies with.

The Red Ninja, on the other hand, is openly Pagan and a Witch, as am I, lack of faith and practice notwithstanding.  I do, however, realise that this doesn't make me me.  It makes me a what.  An identity will come to me when I am ready for it.

Take inspiration from those who have come before:

As before, don't compare yourself to others, but take heart that you're not the first, nor will you be the last, to lose the connection.  Deity has watched more people lose and rediscover their connections than what there are bonds in your bloodline.  With the growing number of people in the world, this number is set to increase almost exponentially. 

This means that it is more than acceptable to learn from those who have walked this journey before you, and in fact, they, as I, made their journeys known for others to grow from, learn from, to take those lessons and experiences and to make them their own.  My journey is not the same as the Bearmaiden's, and is only barely comparable to the Red Ninja's.  I've already hit my head on various (metaphorical) glass walls than I care to count, each one part of my journey.  It's taken me this long to take my Teachers' lessons and experiences to heart and start applying them uniquely to my own life. 

And to say I've had Teachers is being mild.  My first were my parents, those two who raised me and instilled a set of values in me that I still try apply.  After that, I count my grandparents on both sides, then my school-teachers, right up to and including my Teachers in Paganism and magic, the various authors I've read, the filmmakers and characters who've inspired me, my in-laws, my husband and my friends.  Each one I've met has taught me a bit about my own life and my own path - because they've been down their own, and are still travelling!

Start small:

This might sound out of place, but fits in with the rest of what I'm trying to say.  An article posted to the website Nylon (https://nylon.com/articles/ask-a-witch-bring-witchcraft-into-your-life) gives some really nice tips on how to do this, but in summary, start small.  Pull a tarot or related oracle and put it somewhere you can see it often (the author uses the daily card as a cell phone background), or say a daily litany that fits in with your day.  If you have a prayer that means anything to you, say that each day.  The Bubble of Protection and its chant are excellent examples, while I have for myself a prayer I wrote on a class trip to the St. George Cathedral here in Cape Town city.  I even have a tiny ring of beads that searve the function of prayer beads for me.

While we're on the topic - pray:

Yes, pray.  At times this seems a very Christian solution, but they have it right when they say that prayer calms the mind.  It certainly helps me, but as most people are wont to do, I sometimes leave it for too late.  This is a failing, in my opinion, but as this is my opinion you're welcome to feel about it as you want.  If you're Atheist, then obviously this is of no import to you.  Even if you are an theist, I would hope it eventually means something to you.  No, I'm not trying to convert you.  I'm just hoping some kind of a lesson shows itself to you.

I mentioned the prayer I wrote for myself earlier.  Here, let me share it with you:

Goddes and God, here I am,

Hear my prayer:

May my feet ever walk the ancient paths;

May my knees ever kneel at

the sacred altars;

May my groin ever give forth life, joy;

creativity in their

myriad forms;

May my heart ever remain true in strength and love;

May my Third Eye ever see Your world

and the world around me;

May my mind ever be open to your lessons.

So mote it be.

This prayer, blatantly Pagan, came to me as I was walking the labyrinth at St. George's.  I see this as proof that Deity comes to those who need it when they need it.

Having a shrine helps.  I have one that used to be tiny display shelf, only 60 cm high, divided into three shelves.  I have no signs of Deity on it in this incarnation (though I did previously) and will wait until I either dig out the symbols I have or a new one (or more) presents itself.

Oh, wait, I lie:  There's a box carved with elephants and stitched together holding a string of Rudraksha Beads I was given that are my shrine's symbol for Deity.

Listen to the World around you:

I don't mean only the Spiritual world; this is what you're trying to reconnect to in the first place.  No, I mean the Physical world, too.  As airy-fairy as this might sound, the fluffies have it right.  The world often gives us clues, little signs in the right direction.  Trust me, push at ignoring them hard and long enough and you'll learn how loud the world's voice can be.

I'm telling you this because the Physical world doesn't give us messages on its own.  This is where the fluffy part comes in.  The Physical world brings us messages and signs as dictated to it by the Spirit World.

Express yourself:

Be yourself.  As modern Witches, Pagans, Priests of Deity, whichever, we let ourselves get caught up in the world of the Cowans too easily at times.  In the old days, we used to know our Priesthood by not only how they acted, but by their bearing and their clothing, tattoos, language - whatever!

I took inspiration for my small bit of expression from the Priestesses of the The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer-Bradley.  I saw the film before I read the book, and the chief way to identify the Priestesses was by the woad tattoo of a crescent moon between their brows (although the film depicts that marque as being just below the centre of the hairline).  [Note:  for those who don't immediately know, woad is a plant our forefathers used to dye cloth blue before the introduction of indigo to Europe.  One strain of woad had slightly psychotropic properties, thus the stories of Picts and other Gaels painting themselves blue for battle more about that here and here].  There are more sites out there that give much better descriptions and analyses on woad and its uses.

Anyway, so I have myself a Moon-and-flame tattoo on my wrist, and do at some point plan to get it a sibling, the Sun in the same style on my right wrist, as part of my expression:

 

Although the design is far from my own, I let the marquist add his own touch to indivisualise it a little bit, and since I like hand-done designs, I didn't let him make it too perfect, either (slight wobbling on one of the lines, the flame has a fade, etc.).

To most this is just a strange, albeit pretty tattoo design. To a Pagan this should mark me as one of them, someone to whom they can speak. I was once Priestess in my Temple/Academy, but even though I have stepped down from group involvement, I still carry my training and my knowledge with me. I am still Priestess in those regards, as far as I am concerned, even if I no longer carry the title.

Dressing also goes a long way to reconnecting.  Although I relish the thought of being able to walk through my Cowan life in robes and loose hair, my marque, my earring and how I decorate my hair at times will have to suffice.

In parting...

There is so much to be said, and yet so little to say.  I want to tell you so badly to keep studying, but that would be forcing yourself to reconnect, and we want a gradual repair to things.  I want to tell you to take heart from my lessons, but they are my lessons, and though I would love to teach you, I first need to re-teach myself.

You aren't alone on your journey, and there will always be people to support you.  We can hear each other's stories, share each other's experiences, but how you deal with it, how you go through this journey, is yours and yours uniquely, for "When we see our uniqueness as a virtue, only then do we find peace" - Chief Daisuke Aramaki (Kitano Takeshi-san), Ghost in the Shell (2017) .

I love you all so much and I truly wish the best for you all.

Blessed be!

Witches don't exist and the perpetual GRRR

For my life I can't remember where I was recently when I heard a mother tell her little child (I think it was a boy) that witches don't exist.

Now, I can understand in certain circumstances it is safer to say this.  There are still parts even in our own country where people accused of witchcraft are killed in the most gruesome ways (the last one I heard involved stoning and a burning tyre).  In other cases it's easier to say something like this if the crowd or environment you find yourself in would lend itself to too much other unwanted attention (swinging both towards disbelief and accusations of insanity, or suddenly developing a swarm of vultures).

However, this was in Bothasig, where once a month we have a holistic fayre, and eight times a year we have public Sabbath celebrations at the home Temple of one of South Africa's better-known Pagan Academies.  Really, by this time, it isn't as though people don't know we're there.

So where does this thing of witches not existing come from?  I can agree in terms of cartoon and movie witches - much as I wish I could, I can't blow things up with my mind and the only monsters I hunt are debts and bus tickets.  And the occasional loose ciggy.  I can't fly on a broom (physically), nor wingardium leviosa my keys off the floor when I drop them.  BUT!  Witches are very much real and practicing in modern society.

We have organisations in the political arena associated with the general Pagan community; we're involved in hospitals, schools, prisons, media and other corporate entities, and all the way down to grass roots level in terms of being landscapers, bankers, caregivers, even celebrities (no, you won't get any names out of me).  In so many of these positions we are active as Witches, but unless we choose to come out of the broom closet to you (such as I have done as both a Pagan and a Witch), we stay hidden and just do our thing.  We have had our spots in both the papers and on television (even I had my ten seconds' fame!) and are trying to inform the general public that no, we are not the wicked figures portrayed in older literature and media, or even largely in modern media (some films, like The Craft, are really well done in terms of story and effects and such, but has very little to do with real WitchCraft).

Don't get me started on such things as Hansel and Gretel - also brilliant for effects and action - zero in terms of what We actually are.  and again the same for one of my favourite flicks at the moment, Vin Diesel's The Last Witch Hunter.  The closest so far is one I found by accident online the other night, The Last Keepers - what I saw of it was beautiful, but I passed out without getting all that much of the story.

But I digress.
We practice our Crafts and our crafts, and love teaching these skills to others.  We Laugh and cry, kick and scream, love and dislike intensely.  We are human.  The only real difference is, we identify as Witches because we have learnt things that fall outside of the "normal" scope of things.  We look at Fantasy and maybe wish things were different, but then pull our heads out of those clouds and face the real world.  We use magic in difference forms to help and heal those around us - sometimes magic as simple as a hug or a kiss, other times as intensive as a cleansing or a healing.  Or maybe just the magic of a well-informed mind.


Witches are real.  

The contents of a bag... and often the bag itself - Part 2

Okay, so here we have part 2 of the bag post.  This is the contents and some of this won't make sense to most of you.  That's okay, this is my blog, after all.

So, we start with the normal for me:  My glasses and a tarot deck.  Currently I have my Spanish Tarot deck travelling with me, but I like to swap the deck in the bag out every few weeks or months - it depends what happens (bag switch) or how I feel.  I am very much aware of the fact that I have to make them a new pouch, so please just give me gentle reminder of that if you feel you really have to comment on it - I don't like change and they've been happy in the calico up until now.

Next:  The obvious:  my wallet.  This is actually the longest-used wallet I've ever owned and Oxford bought it for me at the Tekkie Town in Bayside Centre.  I think this was in 2012.  I just now it was a tumultuous time for us.

Third:  My shiny silver cigarette case that my in-laws got me for Christmas.  I don't always buy loose smokes, which are actually faster to smoke during my tea-breaks, so in cases like today where I've no loose coins in any case I've rolled and packed a few vanilla rollies in the case.  It has an Eagle-and-Shield emblem on the top, with the eagle holding onto an anchor.

Next:  My charging cables for my smartphone and .mp3 player and the charging adaptor for my phone, for the general "in case" factor.  Hierdie twee is vanselfsprekend.

Fifth:  A small brush.  Once or twice I've had to run from the house without being able to finish brushing my hair, so the little brush is lovely.

Then:  My sunglasses.  Lately I've had a harder and harder time with too much sunlight, so, even though they're scratched to moer and gone, I try to wear my lenses as often as possible outdoors.

After this I have my bright yellow emergency poncho.  Amma gave me this from the one or two spares she had.  It's come in handy at least once so far, so even though it's taking up space I keep in the bag.

Then we have my camping cutlery.  The knife and fork (and spoon, not pictured) all fold up like folding the blades.  The fork has a bottle/can opener in the back (sorry, can't show you - I can't get the bugger open.  No baked beans at work for me!)

The other natural item for me:  My ID book.  Hidden somewhere in the bag...  But if you dig for it Baby Cthulhu will eat your hand off.

I have a few spiritual item in the main compartment of the bag, too:  there's an Esbat working that I can't remember the purpose for, and two sets of prayer beads in case I like to fiddle and fidget or chant a bit (um, no, not out loud.  I'm not quite loopy enough for that!).

Currently, medicinally speaking, I have a tube of Medaspor and a few anti-allergy pills (I'm allergic to bee-stings).

Then we come to the pockets:  In order, I am in possession of five pens (two calligraphy pens in sizes 1.0 and 3.0, a blue company branded pen that writes in black ink, a cheapie blue-capped black ballpoint pen and my fountain pen) and Rolfes Twisters pencil; my MyCiti tap-card (in discreet handmade leather pouch); a 7g-sized tin of Zam-Buk; a tiny little weekly planner; a lucky bean and tiger's eye; my house keys with mini-handy-tool and hair-holdie thingies, and my access tag; and then my notebook, Vuss Puss and another hairband.

                                      

Fuq.

It's amazing how much shit a person collects in a bag at any given time.

The contents of a bag... and often the bag itself - Part 1

It's been a while now that I've needed a new bag, and for a number of reasons:

The one diagonal-strap bag I have doesn't zip properly and as a result if anything pulls too hard on any of the zips they pop.  Paid R 80 at the now-closed Bags City in N1 City Mall.

The messenger-style sling bag I have been using and loving has started wearing through on certain of its seams - especially those seams on the pocket holding my MyCiti tap card.  Got as a hand-me down from Amma.

The little camel-coloured bag I have, that is really nice, is just that - little.  I can fit a few things in and then that's it, often glasses, wallet, phone, tarot deck and in a pocket somewhere my allergy medication.  Oh, then I still need to find a spot for my keys.  Ironically, the only thing that has its own spot and fits perfectly each and every time is my cellphone, and only because there's hidden flat pocket especially for phones sewn into the bag.  I think I paid R 80 for this one at a stall.

After this we have the black-and-white in almost African Rural designs.  Also a nice enough bag and has a nice extra pocket or three, but this is also more a bag for going out (though I use it for class stuff) and the front pocket's lining has split, so anything I put in there slips into the "skin" of the bag.  Also, it isn't all that spacious, nor safe:  the clasps are those magnetic studs and there's quite a gap in the flap of the bag.  Paid R 160, I think, at Mr. Price.  I think this one I got maybe 2011 or 2012.

The mini-diagonal bag Oxford is using.  It looks nice and the last time anything on it ripped it repaired really easily, but it has a tendency to slip down and then under one's arm.  This one was R 180 in 2006 at Due South.  I just realised how kak expensive that is - it's almost triple that if I had to go and look for one now.

Then, next to last, we have the 20L hiking bag.  In 2012 or 2013 I paid R 210 at Outdoor Warehouse.  This bag has a good number of pockets, and it's spacious and mostly water-proof unless it gets rained on directly.  Ja.  My Aquarian Tarot took two days to dry out after that episode.  The other thing was that the hiking bag seemed to be quite an easy target for thefts and robberies.  Twice on the way to the bus station at the same crossing (although opposite sides of the road) someone tried to take something out of the bag.  Also, when it eventually stated wearing through, I couldn't repair it.  The fabric/plastic it's made from frays once it tears or wears.  So currently the bag itself is stored in the bottom of the cupboard.  I should really toss it or donate it.

Last but not least we come to my newest acquisition:  A blue and white elephant patterned bag from Dragon Mart that I paid R 120 for yesterday.  I transferred what I could into it yesterday and it is huge!  And it isn't even the full-sized one.  Three pockets around the side, a hidden pocket on the inside and drawstring.  They've a smaller one I also have my eye one for R 80, in a red-blue-white elephant pattern, but I want to go back end September to get that one.  I'll then use that for going out.

Effelaaaaaaants!!

So, this is the end of part 1 of this post.  Yes, I know I did it backwards.  No, I don't feel funny about it.  Maybe I will add images of the other bags...  You'll have to wait and see :P

The Priestess you have dialled is not available at present...

Good morrow, one and all!

So, the last few months have been rather trying.  My family and I shared the loss of Opa Waagenaar and recently found out one branch of the family is now trying to cause kakkies.  Not nice.

A week after Opa passed away, I had the personal loss of a friend from KZN who was taken up for breathing problems (he had pneumonia) and passed away a few hours later.  Really not nice.

My plans for my own wheels has had to be pushed back after we had to dig into the savings to survive the month - even with a boost in salary living is hard, and we don't even live extravagantly.  I'm trying to learn desperately how to live with spending less, but the moment I manage that something else pops up that needs to be taken care of.  Foo-rus-too-rei-ting-goo!

Anyway.  On the major plus sides:  We all remember Opa in a good light and have some amazing memories of him and Oma.

When it comes to Colin, even though we didn't communicate all that much, when we did it was good to catch up.  We never had the world's deepest friendship, but it was important to me.

I didn't lose the other friendship I had feared to, but it has changed, and I think for now it was a necessary change.  We're both too set in certain things and dealing with our own internal stuff.  Taking things slower - even though this isn't an accurate description - gives us an opportunity to learn about each other from a different, less freaked out point of view.  But this is as much as I'll say on this.

We have food in the fridge.  If things look a bit lean in other areas, we can at the very least feed ourselves.

We have a roof over out heads.  We aren't sleeping under a bridge.

I can SMILE!!  Gods, there have been times where I'd have preferred to slit my wrists and just give up, but the thing is, I like smiling too much, and talking kak with friends and family and going to the beach and cuddling in rainy weather and and and.  If I'd slit my wrists I'd have missed out on these few things and then tons of others.  The smell of a cold morning, Bob looking all cute, watching Gizmo sleep on the foot of the bed, pasta, Trinity sneaking into the room...  The list just goes on!

All of this being said, this still isn't completely what I'm trying to express and the way I feel.

The most basic thing this boils down to is the following:

I'm sorry I'm not going to be there for anyone, or make any commitments or catch myself in any obligations or agree to anything I don't want to agree to for the next while.  I don't know how long this is going to last.  I do know that I have been floating around from one thing and person and idea for faaaaaaaaar too long, and not really dealing with anything I'm supposed to deal with.  In other words, myself.  I've been putting things off or ignoring them.  This ends now, even if it means I seem to cut myself off from other people and seem to become emotionally unavailable or appear to change into a stranger.  Maybe becoming this stranger is just the thing I need to Become.

I can only know once it happens....

What I dream of sometimes and how it affects me...

Hello, all!

So, those who know my ins and outs know I travel to work on the MyCiti bus from Table View, and I get to Table View with my husband who drops me off at either the Circle East stop or the Wood Drive stop if the driver is a bit earlier or I'm running a bitty late.

Anyhoo...

I like dozing on the bus, especially on these early morning trips, and was reminded again Monday morning I can actually doze sitting straight up.  I was quite an enlightening thing to rediscover.

So, during my doze the other day I somehow started dreaming of my tics, specifically The Hic, and how they annoy people.  I still remember dreaming that sometimes it gets so much that people react to it, and in my dream the memory was of a rhinoid passenger on the bus head-butting me.  Yoh, that horn, though...

So, I wake up and in reaction to the dream I start looking for the rhinoid passenger and the giraffoid that sat next to him/her (???).  It took me a few moments to realise it had been a dream, but when I did, I had to hold back from piddling myself with laughter.

Since then, the idea of rhinos wearing glasses has refused to leak from my cranium.  It is such an overpowering thought it affected my ability to type on a client's account and I almost left an interaction note with JUST the word "rhino" on the record, and those notes can't be removed.

Ever.

How do people know rhinos' eyes are bad?  How did they get them to sit still to test them?  Once that was achieved, why aren't rhinos wearing glasses?  Maybe it'd help them target their own poachers a bitty better...

(Image not owned by me, go to https://www.etsy.com/listing/121829522/smart-rhino-wearing-glasses-print for details

My heroes in life

Over the last few days I've thought out, typed and re-typed this post in various forms.  Each paragraph I've put into words has had something lacking, of I've found myself digressing from the message I'm trying to get across and then have a total Adventure Time moment (fans of this American cartoon will know exactly what I'm talking about...)

So I'm going to try and simplify it and take it piece by piece and, hopefully, not stray too far from what I'm trying to say here tonight.

(Please keep in mind:  focusing for any long period of time is difficult for me and I tend to fidget; when I'm typing my hands are occupied and I've found me mind taking over the fidgeting if I don't keep a hold on this.  So, I really do apologise if something I'm typing doesn't immediately make sense.)

Growing up we have different heroes depending on our moods or stages of life itself.  When I was five my hero was Superman and Bravestarr; the power of flight and the ability to take on different animals' strongest aspects has always appealed to me and even now, I find myself watching the Bravestarr movie just because I can.  Superman has the Justice League and now, among them, I have no favourite heroes - they all are.

When I got a bit older and started reading and getting into history I found a new set of heroes:  Bast, or Bastet, out of the Egyptian pantheon was almost a Patroness to me, with her sister-aspect Sekhmet; Sobek with his crocodile smile; Ra with his ability so see all.  After st.5 this expanded and included the Tuatha de Danann, the Irish pantheon, as well.

Even now, as an adult now longer in their twenties, my list of heroes grows and changes and I find myself respecting each of these figure for the different aspects they represent.

However, as much as I enjoy my mythological and pop-culture heroes, I have a few sets of very real heroes in my "real" life as well.

(If I don't mention you, please understand it isn't anything against you; everyone I know helps me in some way.)

Amongst my friends, I have The Boys. The Old Man has (accidentally) made a name for himself, and yet not once let that actually go to his head.  If needs be, he can honestly list his accomplishments, both chosen and assumed, and then in the next breath breach a bottle of wine, grab a box of smokes and drag you outside to empty the bottle (and maybe the next few) with him.  Chappies, his husband, loves cooking and baking.  I've had some of the most amazing experimental dishes of my life with this man and between us we can always find something to talk about in the culinary fields, whether it is a new recipe, something one or both of us want to try, or his elves and dragons and our shared love of calligraphy (although since we had to move out of the house I've let my calligraphy slip badly).  These two are humble and I really learn a lot from them, in terms of life experiences and the way to handle certain situations with style.

Then there's Honey.  Goddess knows how many hours the two of us have "wasted" just sitting talking kak until the off hours of the morning.  One of the prime examples is when we went to a rural town during the last few months of I think 2014 and we had to sleep in the car as the lady we were visiting was having the floor in her house redone and there literally wasn't a surface for us to sleep on.  We lay in the car's seats talking 'til almost half past one in the morning before I passed out, but we heard this really loud cricket under the car at one point and both started talking at once.  The image we both conjured up was that of a really buff cricket standing right outside my window.  Now, when I say buff, see in your mind's eye a bug.  Four arms and moerse long antennae standing on two muscular legs at a almost seven feet tall and a jutting jaw.  It took us half an hour to calm down.  I've learnt from her to relax and say what I need to say when I feel the need to say it.  I've also learnt that not everything needs to simply be accepted as rote and there are definitely times when running away from something is a good idea...

In my family I have Auntie Cobra.  We've had out head-butting sessions and one or two screaming matches, but we've always bounced back.  She's always there and will help where she can, even at times it seems to her own detriment.  She really doesn't like too many people in her space, but whenever someone has needed it she's thrown open her doors and cleared out a space for them.  I'm unable to do the same, but I want to be able to help wherever I can.

Then there's Tande.  Tande has always done what could be done to make out lives better, even if it meant we couldn't see each other as much as we wanted.  Then, when I was going through a really bad patch living on my own, earning a really measly salary, Tande helped me out almost the entire time with a few rands here, a few there, and if I really got stuck a few extra.  I'm still trying to convince him to let me pay him back, but up until now I haven't even manged to get a "maybe" out of him.  From him, I have learnt steadfastness and calm.

Next, is Silver.  Silver has really tried to make a plan when things went sideways.  Even sometimes without physically doing anything, just moving on and adapting to the situation when most people would have buckled.  I have seen this woman go through some really sticky times and then laugh them off, often literally.  At times she's been in serious sh**, then gone somewhere on some commitment and nobody had any idea, because she's taken their sh** and made them forget it without even mentioning her own.  She does her fair share of talking about it, but the next thing you know she spins some story and people around her are often none the wiser.  Silver handles her stuff herself and always finds a way to make a situation work.  From Silver I have learnt adaptability and how to "speak" to people.

My last hero on this list is probably my most relevant right now, and ten to one will be for a very long time.

Oxford and I started dating, in a very strange sense, I might add, six months after meeting and chatting online.  We spoke for six months before we met and suddenly BOOM!  I found myself with a boyfriend that never once actually asked me out in the real sense of the word.  We started going out and I was at the house he shared with his folks six nights out of seven.  We had a hiccup where we were "informally" together for a year and a half because of kak that had to be dealt with.  It was a few months after we were "officially" back together that he asked me to marry him and I accepted.

We went on with our lives as they had bee, seeing each other when we could, usually over weekends at that stage, and not really talking about how we would one day have our nuptials.  From March to September 2014 I was doing admin at the college and Oxford and I got to see each other a bit more often.  October of that year came and I was appointed to the position I have now, meaning that I had to move in with Oxford.  At this stage we'd been going out for six years, but this was the first time we'd actually shared a living space.

It wasn't six months later that we moved into a flat on the same property of the house Silver was living in.  Oxford had at this time lost his job in Table View and while he was looking for something else he played houseman, cleaning, cooking and shopping while I was at work during the day.  Another six months later we moved into the main house and he continued his role of houseman, even when he got the job as a newspaper carrier and then started working with Crusty doing network installations.  Our lease with the house was ended seven months after we moved into it and we had to move back in with Oxford's parents.  He continued his role as houseman even when he often only got home some nights after 7:00.

Four months later, on a Tuesday evening, I had decided I'd had enough.  I phoned up the marriage officer I'd been put in contact with for me to start planning our handfasting.  I asked her if she had a spot before the weekend and on the evening of 30 September 2016 Oxford and I signed the paperwork that made us legal spouses.

(We are still planning a proper handfasting, but have had people telling me they don't want to come to the second-hand ceremony, or somesuch.  Please, guys, that night in September was just for the legal stuff).

Anyway.

Oxford became my legal spouse that night and I have not been an easy person to be around at times.  I moan and I complain and I can make a lot of noise.  I also have the tendency to get annoyed with little things, things I wouldn't do myself, but Oxford does, and I take this out on him.  I have my really dark days where I want to say and do nothing and then Oxford just sits there and does nothing with me.

The list can go on.

What I'm trying to say is that through all of this Oxford has been there and although he moans and complains about having to take me somewhere sometimes (like the bus-stop at 5:00 am, or directly to work over weekends), he has stuck it out.  He has been calm when I went coocookachoo, told me to go for or do something I wanted even when I felt we had other responsibilities and been the crazy I needed when I felt things weren't working out at that moment.  Not to even mention the stuff he's done for me when I've been sick with bronchitis or pneumonia.

So, my greatest hero right now:  My husband.  Just for being mine right now.