And like most sisters, she and I are as different as day an night. But not really. You all know how I feel. Day without night, everlasting sunlight without respite, is torture. Likewise, night without day, eternal darkness and no Vitamin D, is dismal. Thank all of the gods and goddesses there are the two of us.
Pumpkin, this time, I am talking about you – and, most importantly, talking *to* you.
My sister walks a different path than I do. She is the most beautiful Celt/Cherokee (if not “neatly” Deborean) woman, with piercing brown eyes and more power in a five-foot-two, barely-into-three-digits, frame you’d ever have the luck to meet.
She’s all organic.
I’m all ritual.
She’s all Earth.
I’m all Sky.
We both drink ‘til we get giddy and try our hardest not to smoke ourselves stoopid. We both have amazingly fabulously, wonderfully effed-up husbands who we love with all our hearts and souls. Likewise, we have three children (one of each) that drive us bat-shit crazy, yet we love-love-love-love-love them harder than any living thing. (Ooooooh, be careful Bad Witch, don’t name it.) We both live paycheck-to-paycheck, especially in the summer. We both teach the most delicious students on the planet – both spiritually and secularly. We have both fallen out of love with our day jobs and have decided to pursue our widely (and wildly) variant spiritual paths full time. We both cook like Iron Chefs – and damnit, one of us is always going to the icecream maker. We both garden – I’ll leave it at that this year. Oi. We both have too-goddamn-many dogs. We both swear like sailors. We both watch Dexter and True Blood like it’s religion. We both wrote our dissertations on 20th Century Literature (she on the Death of the Goddess and I on Masculinity in Crisis). We both have very Christian families. (Obviously, we are not biological sisters – again I say, “We are sisters from different hysters.”) We are both half-breeds: Native American and Celt (She’s Irish, I’m Scott; She’s Cherokee, I’m Muskogee-Creek) and North and South (we’re both Alabama; She’s Jersey, I’m Chicago). We are both very busy women, very powerful women, very take-your-bullshit-elsewhere-I’ve-got-enough-of-my-own-thanks-all-the-same women. We are both astonishingly effective crafters/sorcerers/magicians/don’t-put-me-in-a-box-witches. We both love each other with the kind of love that leaves us in physical pain when we have to say “good-bye” and makes our phones short-out when we haven’t been face-to-face in too long.
Well, hot-damn. Would you look at that. It seems we are more alike then we are different.
If you are lucky enough to have a fabulous friend in your life, count it up. I’m sure you’ll find that you have more to share than to separate you.
Sister-bear, I love you. I support you. I do it openly for the whole-damned-world to see. Got it? You go your way, I’ll go mine. See you in the end. ‘Cause, truly, we are going to the same place. (And I bought lakeside property.)
The Bad Witch can only say that even the strongest among us needs a hand now and then. Lordy-lord-lord knows, I do. And I thank those of you who have given it to me recently. Pay it forward, y’all. Even if you think someone has their shit together and all tied up with a fancy-ass bow, kudos go a long way. It doesn’t cost a thing to pat a sister on the back now and then.
Blessings to you all, and to all a good night.