For the last decade or so, I’ve been working on a method of quarantining bad or unhappy memories while finding a way of “showcasing” the good and happy ones. I don’t want to ban the bad memories, to a large extent, who we are in this life is a result of our experiences and I don’t want to wipe out what has made me “me” I just don’t want them unnecessarily poisoning my here and now. (after all, you never know when one of the less pleasant events in your life turns out to be a very useful lesson.) I’m still working on it. But I have gotten pretty good at the easy storage and call up of those things that I want to remember. Good enough so that those events that have happened since I’ve started this project can be recalled with nearly all of my senses, so that I can almost relive them. For ever so many reasons, I am so grateful for affirmation from others, that when I receive a compliment, especially in public, I can remember getting it in glorious Technicolor, with surround-sound and smello-vision.
So what does this have to do with Mark Stavish?
Nearly a year and a half ago, DH and I attended a pagan festival. Mark Stavish was one of the two featured speakers. Marks first workshop on the day that we attended was on spagyrics, and, I suspect, far too early in the morning for those who were up “festival-ing” the night before. Four of us attended this workshop, and only DH had read anything on alchemy. The workshop started as if it were a lecture, with the other two attendees earnestly taking notes. Then, Mark started asking us questions, and it became more of a conversation between him and DH (it was apparent that the other two attendees had no background in alchemy or hermetics.) I sat and listened. After a while, Mark looked at me and said “everyone participates, everyone answers questions...” OK, fine, although at the time I had no formal study in alchemy or hermetics, either. (I do, however, seem to have a talent for absorbing information atmospherically, and my long ago degree in the classics probably doesn’t hurt.) It was an interesting morning, although I did not understand all of what was said, when it came to certain practicalities, he and I had a common ground.
After a break for lunch, there was a second workshop, this one, better attended. The topic of this workshop was supposed to be lucid dreaming. Before he started, Mark went around the room, asking each of us our magical/spiritual background. The first half dozen people were Wiccan. Then, two young women dressed and pierced in their best “still trying to piss mommy off style” said that they were “eclectic” and one said that she was having trouble doing path work with tarot cards. Mark looked at her and said, “That’s because you don’t know what you are doing.” Uh oh, because now its my turn, and I am nothing if not eclectic. Which is what I said. (Well, minus the “uh oh” part) His response? “But you know what your are doing.”
If I were the better person that I aspire to be, my chagrin at the embarrassment of the woman next to me would outweigh the pleasure I got (and still get!) from someone publicly saying that I know what I am doing. But I am not that better person, yet. So, if you are one of those people that has said something complimentary to or about me, where others might hear it, know that you and the event have a special place in my heart. Thank you.
(and eventually, I will get to the spagyrics project of Thanksgiving)
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