The “Witching Hour” on Beltane usually finds me writing. This year finds, my heart filled with more joy than sadness. I still have my scars and bruises, but they’re manageable and know their place; I bite harder, and they know it. I have this way of keeping my ear to the ground and listening carefully to the rhythm of what will bring me joy. Even when my world was torn asunder, I could still hear the music. The music always knows where and when to find me in its perfect timing. It’s my medicine, my muse, food for my soul if you will. My angels find me in the notes and reveal themselves in the lyrics. It’s actually quite beautiful in it is perfection, as if I wrote the script myself, although I’m pretty sure I did. Sometimes I forget who I am, and it had proven to be disastrous consequences when I did. But then again, everything is perfection. All of the contrast is just an opportunity for growth. It’s just another rung in the ladder of my spiritual evolution. I am actually grateful for every tear which has fallen from my beautiful bright eyes. Now, I can truly feel the growth I achieve from each pang of heartbreak. I now understand the necessity of my nemesis’s shenanigans. I am grateful for the lesson, and I finally seem to be learning and remembering the lessons. That’s good because the situation was becoming tiresome. I have made leaps and strides away from all of the things which no longer serve me. And, I have absolutely no compunction about cutting them loose with grace and dignity and simply walking away and never looking back. I simply don’t need them anymore. After they have served their purpose, I know it, and I’m done. I move on to the next opportunity for pleasure. I always gravitate towards pleasure. My brother, Lee, had a favorite expression, “Don’t get any on ya” it applies to so many situations; I use this mindset daily. Yes, there are going to be undesirable elements as you navigate your way down your path, but just keep going. Just because you see a turd in your path, it isn’t by any means necessary to step in it, just go around it and don’t get any on you. But if you do get some on you, it’s not the end of the world. Shit does wash off. Now you may wonder what is “Shit.” Shit is a waste product that’s left behind after what was needed has been extracted. Shit is eliminated. Perhaps, I seem harsh. You are entitled to your opinion, for which I have no emotional attachment. Actually, it’s none of my business what another person thinks of me, and that’s exactly how I want to keep it. Those who actually know and love me for who and what I am matter, others who would just stand in judgment of me for the sake of entertainment, I have no use for knowledge of their opinion. And quite frankly, I don’t care. I keep moving through this life, flying by the seat of my pants, listening to the music. I so love my life in this beautiful body. I will squeeze every drop of pleasure out of this life every day, just in case I have an expiration date. Time will tell, but right now, I’m not worried about it. “Time” is an interesting concept, construct, and illusion; there is only now. And that’s how I live my life. It’s all perfection. It’s all theater and songs, and stories, and most of all, beauty and pleasure. The rest is just growing back into the authentic selves that we were before the world got a hold of us and twisted us into what it wanted us to be. Some give in and go with it. Me, not so much. I just can’t and won’t. I am me, always have been, and always will be. Try as they may, they can’t tame this wild child. And unfortunately for them, they can’t destroy me either. God knows they’ve tried. I just keep coming back, bigger and stronger, much to their dismay. I feed on their meager efforts of my destruction. They should quit wasting their time. It’s never going to happen. I’m never going away unless I decide to go somewhere else. Most likely, I’ll just follow the music, beauty, and pleasure.

All Rights Reserved - Lynne Taylor / AutumnWolfPublishing 2021.