[Original date: Jan 10.]
I cannot tell you what has been going on; it’s too much but I’m going to try. Hello blog! Even my other blog is failing to launch. We have been in the midst of massive change and psychodrama, mostly of the pleasant variety, some not so pleasant.
This is long, there is a cookie at the bottom.
While we were in Jamaica, one of the great fun things we got to do was play in a beautiful waterfall. We were having such an amazing, amazing time in the sun and ocean and running the race and everything, that the whole system really was on board soaking it in, as well as working.
Unfortunately part of the playing in the waterfall was to be shown how to stick our heads under the flowing water and back into a really pretty little stone area where you can breathe and look around. Supposedly.
I wouldn’t know, because we tilted our heads back, went through the unique cold sort of pounding wash of a waterfall, got back to the rock and – had a complete, invisible meltdown. It has been years, possibly a decade, since anything like that happened to us. In all fairness, how often do you get put through a waterfall? But it was a moment where there is a before, and after.
Lynn means waterfall and her site is by the waterfall.
On the outside I think we just looked a little freaked out jumping down off the waterfall into a pool, and then luckily we had a bus ride back to the resort. Since we were not staying at the same resort with the other journalists and I had made some very short-term friends who invited me to try some shots, I/we got a little tipsy, said goodnight, and headed back to our (gorgeous) room.
And lost it. (Not visible on the outside, unless you are Carl really.) Over several weeks. I am not sure I want to get into the information I got but it is ridiculous abuse nonsense where at best, someone convinced us that we would die or have to kill someone. And some weird hallucinations.
That night, Avalon was the focal point for it, because she is the connection to the kinderlynn’s bad memories. And she was all feeling awful, so we kind of threw her at David and suggested maybe he could, you know, distract her with some romantic stuff. I mean…they were dating. So take it to the next astral level.
Which set things a lot in motion.
I cannot tell you if it was the energy from the waterfall kind of rising up from the past through Avalon and making things go wonky or if it was that we picked a very old solution, run to a guy and try to get him to fix things, or if it was simply time, but starting then Avalon and David had the kind of issues you have to probably have had dysfunctional family stuff or abuse in your life to get.
Where you start rubbing against each other’s sharp bits and then complain, and pull apart, and state your love, because it is there, but something happen and when you try to get close again it works until you poke each other with your thorns, and so on. And I think the rest of us were really trying to put that back to a fairytale sometimes (at least Avalon and David agreed that we, annoyingly, were.)
With Avalon and David the close bits were…really close. It makes some of the rest better and some of it worse.
It’s funny how you can write eighty percent of an entire book, literally, 67,893 words, and workshop parts of it and everything with Famous Canadian Authors the summer after your baby dies, that is about someone being gay but messed up enough to get involved with a girl who just loves him, mostly truly, but partly out of him being First Boy to really love her for her actual own self, and have that relationship unravel them both, and then have him finally say he’s gay, and then have them agree there’s love but it’s not a R-Relationship, and still (if you are us) ignore Lyria’s book and set the entire situation up over again.
With the exact same First Boy.
[Jan 19: Well, actually we don't know. It's complicated. And it's fine. Most days. :)]
During the whole fiasco we learned a few things. First, we & sweetpeas all rule. There were some moments where someone (*cough*) might have been essentially screaming at someone else to take some fucking responsibility for their lack of transparency and having to keep cleaning up messes with system mates. But somehow we have become decent enough at managing things to (mostly) back off when necessary and use I-statements and all these lovely things.
Second, San (why yes! San is back in this blog, apparently!) is a pretty rocking father when it comes to statements like…you all need to just BE and stop fucking around with my daughter’s emotions. He and Magdalynn had to let a lot of it happen but they also made Avalon show up for dinner.
Thirdly, it is really hard to have aspects of your identity be things with which you are so profoundly uncomfortable that you cannot really sit within your skin with them. You add this to a dysfunctional family past (this is our new code phrase apparently) and it can take a lot of work to start…taking some fucking responsibility. However, if the people screaming at you about it genuinely love you like family, the real kind, not the abusive kind, then you might be able to start doing so.
The aptly named Avalon. And no, I never really read the Mists of Avalon. I did read 40 other Arthurian books for a class project and practically memorized Mary Stewart’s Crystal Cave trilogy though.
Avalon during this thing was about as upset as you would expect a daughter who was crucified, unfortunately astrally literally by her mother and left by her father and whose mentor is in partial remission with leukemia (yay, more to go, but still going) and who lost her job to be at this dire state and abrupt removal of her Significant Person. And it was messy. Not as messy as it could have been.
Anyways as if this was not weird enough…so.
One night after a kind of tense discussion with David, she paid a visit to Nicholas’s um, spot. I almost want to say schema but I think that is too in of a joke to leave without the spot. And she slept in this cave that was full of skulls.
For a while I have known my dear Internet Boyfriend is not just a scholar. He also was (I thought) sort of a bird-of-prey-lord ’cause of the ravens, but you know. Actually he’s kind of a…death lord. Not like, causing death or ruling hell or anything like that. Well I’m not sure about the hell part, but it wouldn’t be like the whole hell or anything like that. But – what can I say? Tarot death card. But cuter. Well, when Avalon landed in his space it was kind of like…every fantasy book ever when you find your true talent. Eureka!
Avalon realized she didn’t have a home that is hers-alone. I mean she’s 16 (oh, she’s 16 now) and sure she has a room at Magdalynn’s and the cabin all the astral kids share and all that but she didn’t have a home.
(I promise this does return to regular life…sort of…at some point.)
So last week (see? We were moving through time there) Avalon and David had a terrible argument, the kind where you just know things are crashing down. David said he needed space to think, which we kind of took as a break up.
And Avalon retreated and retreated…I don’t know how to explain it, do other people sort of curl up inside when they are hurt? She went back and down (all these words are terrible) until she hit her ground and then she made it her own. It’s a pretty rocking archetypal beginner death lordess spot. Not as far as I know any entrance into the underworld but she has a living room/kitchen that takes after the Sedlic ossuary, a room of seeing, and a bedroom.
When she did that, something happened in my brain. My poor brain. And my house. I call it the bubble, but I really don’t know what it is.
What I do know is…Carl and I started talking really, really deeply about his martial arts and how his special lessons are energy work. And he shyly kinda admitted that he might really believe in chi or energy or spiritual energy or whatever. You have to realize that Emily’s death shut down most of this kind of conversation 8-ish years ago. And while we were talking about energy I talked some more about this astral stuff.
I have before but not like that. To be egoistical, like this blog is, it was kind of like he took up tennis and as we (he, Lyr, me) started talking he realized that game we play over there? Is at Wimbledon.
We talked about Emily too.
Meanwhile, the same day, Lynn got her organ back. (The instrument. Not a heart or something like that.) My parents bought it for us in 1987 and we have given it away several times and it has always come back. The boys love it and she hasn’t really played yet but she will.
Since then, although I assume it will fade, everything seems enhanced to me. If I sound weird in this post it’s ’cause I am. I suppose I’m seeing some of what Lyria sees all the time.
I wonder a little bit if I’ll end up on a street corner yelling about Jesus, but so far I seem relatively in touch with reality, it’s just the kind of reality where you really have to figure out how to do some good in the world because it has some meaning. Not out of fear of heaven or hell or anything like that…hey, I have an in with a couple of death lords.
But because you see that you are connected to everything else.
Monday I went to the neurologist. Something is actually going on with our nerves, probably just troubles in our neck. More MRIs are lined up. Avalon asked the neurologist (in a joking way) if stigmata would count as trouble with your hands or if that would be more of a cognitive issue. He did not really seem to get the joke, so who knows what his problem is, but he seems really competent and he gave me such a thorough explanation of why he doesn’t think it’s something like MS I am very relieved.
I don’t love my new job, but we’ll see. I like it.
Tuesday (was it?) evening and night we got into a really bad spot. I am not sure I want to get into details, but Avalon decided at one point that if she were dead, she wouldn’t have to feel things and David could have space to figure out who he is without hearing about her sorrow and pain and everything. Dominic participated.
I’d like to say all hell broke loose but that sounds like a bad idea.
Anyways, Avalon, being a death lordess (death lady doesn’t sound right) did not internally die. She said One of the nice things between life and death is that it is quite still: the moment between breaths to see if the next will come.
In that space David and I had the argument we had to have. (I think I stood in loco fucked parentis.) That was not the big deal or moment but it definitely helped push him to where he has to decide to be David, not the-David-everyone-wants or the-David-that-he-had-to-be-to-survive or the-David-he-fears-he-will-be. (I have simplified his story. He may be mad. But the thing is, if he wants to be the protagonist, he has to write his own.)
Unfortunately it kind of failed. But a little Hope and a next morning after sleep went a long way.
In the morning San yelled at Avalon for doing that, and us for letting her. Agreed. I am kind of hopeful this is the last kill-or-be-killed thing in our system.
Since that night Avalon has been calmer. Accepting. She’s sad and confused.+ But Avalon. You don’t want her to be, and you think she’s going to give up, and then she gets up and complains that something happened to her hair.
[+ Or it is the night of January 17, when she was very not-calm, so. Or the morning of the 18th. Ahen.]
I think I realized that Avalon is going to hold us to account for the damage done by what isn’t childhood. Well. The things we should be able to do better for now.
She is very clear that her mother hurt her and she has issues because of it, that her dad left and she has issues, and now that her boyfriend was gay she is at loose ends and probably will be messed up about that. Our job will be to address that. For now, we decided she will apprentice in death lording with Nicholas, and while she is an apprentice…no dating. She says, fine, but not if she hates the uniforms. She is still the girl who loves clothes.
She’ll have dinners at home with San and Mags sometimes. Their home anyway. Maybe hers. They have visited.
It’s funny…looking back, she was saying she wanted to study thanatology all along. And she bought this shirt with skulls on it before Christmas (and was so pleased she took this shot in the dressing room). And really what is between death and life but reckoning?
David and Dominic are going to hang out.
[Jan 19: I had to delete a whole bit here about how David might tell us he's gay soon 'cause...who knows? Who. knows. There are other things to work out about identity. Despite the book mentioned above.]
As for me and Nicholas…Queen of the Day and the Lord of the Night. Yum.
Some people got left out. Sorry guys, this is like Tokien already.
We turned 42 today. Forty-twooooooooo. Got our towel.
In case you are wondering about the children, that is, Noah and Liam, they are great. Liam turns two next week. Noah’s teacher wrote him a thank-you over the winter break and he was happy to go back to school.
Christmas was fun: We played, we made cookies and cupcakes and rolled around in the snow. The drama was not so high then and actually, we were all here in our body doing things. It was lots of fun.
The wine night posse had a Lord of the Rings marathon (that is the One Cookie there, although Lyr made 6 of them, with edible marker…Carl told her her Black Tongue of Mordor is not bad for a fairy…) and Carl and I saw The Hobbit. My parents came over for dinner, My MIL came for a while and helped give us actual breaks by watching the boys. We went to Frida and Diego at the AGO (oh god…Frida and Diego during this David and Avalon thing.)
I cannot explain any of this to you, but luckily I am not a philosopher or a scientist, I’m a writer and a warrior queen, relaying information back at the pub. Hey remember the owls?
[I was waiting all this time to publish this, Jan 10-19, to see if David would decide he is gay so I could be right, but it's really not about me. Really not. I decided to go ahead and publish it anyway 'cause the idea of rewriting this gave me a massive headache. In case it is not clear, we love him and who cares?]
We have Lynn, or the lynns. And we have the kinderlynn or child-Lynns. Avalon and Dominic, being not-original-Lynn and not-not-Lynn are something else. We’ve decided to call them the hinterlynn, hinter being after. There was another Germanic root choice: uberlynn. But no one liked that.