Margot Velvet

Category: Unplanned Thoughts

  • May 31st, 2020

    May 31st, 2020

    JUSTICE FOR GEORGE FLOYD. Defund The Police.

    Last night, people all over the world were protesting police brutality and the death of George Floyd (among countless, countless other atrocities). In the aftermath, I am left heartbroken. Not because of the looters and rioters, but because of the unanimous response of condemnation that I am seeing across my social media and timelines.

    I am a white woman, living in suburbia, and I am living just a hair above the state poverty limit. I recognize my privilege. I see it every day and it’s not fucking fair. And I see what POC are going through and my heart is aching, ACHING, with them. I stand in solidarity to all oppressed peoples. There is no room in my life for hate or disgust, only love and (currently) despair.

    Everyone (especially white people): LISTEN TO BLACK VOICES. BE THEIR WITNESS. It is not fake or imagined or exaggerated. Use your privilege for good – your silence is screaming apathy. The rioting and looting is the result of years and years of unjust brutality against POC and a president who can’t keep his mouth shut and only seems to make things worse at every turn. It’s pent up anger spilling out. The police have created this problem by making institutionalized racism and MURDER normal and turned a blind eye to real justice. We are at a breaking point. And those people out there condemning these riots and the actions of these people: Can any white person, in their heart, be sure what their breaking point would be after living a life of oppression, loss, and inequality?

    I donated to the Chicago Community Bond Fund to help pay bail for some of those 1,000 people arrested last night. The City of Chicago implemented a curfew without warning, then promptly shut down the CTA and lifted almost all of the drawbridges – effectively trapping those left in the city without a means to leave, rendering them all ‘criminals’ and arrestable. I could barely believe it was happening. The Cook County jail is sure to be full to bursting, and in the middle of a global pandemic situation, this is criminal. This could be a death sentence for some.

    I was watching the Twitter feeds roll in in real time. It started very peacefully, but then videos of police initiating violence started coming in after curfew began. Here is what was happening in Chicago:

    https://twitter.com/Valerie_k13/status/1266945178453118978
    https://twitter.com/may20p/status/1266912334989217792?s=09
    ^^^ THIS THREAD IS IMPORTANT – Click the link and watch the videos ^^^

    The Chicago Freedom School opened it’s doors to those left trapped in the city and could not leave. Lots of people were offering rides to those left downtown without an exit strategy. This coming together in the midst of chaos was beautiful.

    I hope people come to realization that this was completely avoidable if everyone (law enforcement, govt, friends, family, society!) practiced compassion.

    Where is our empathy? Why is the common reaction to be empathetic towards to businesses first? Why are you worried about Macy’s and Gucci and Nike and Target and AutoZone? Corporations are not people. A store can be rebuilt. Inventory is insured. Unemployment income is available. A LIFE EXTINGUISHED CANNOT BE REPLACED.

  • Dear Mother in Law,

    Dear Mother in Law,

    Today, your son showed me some of your trinkets.

    They were all carefully packed away in your chifforobe, loosely organized but done so with love. He told me about how he made the buckskin medicine bag and filled it with herbs and calcite dust. He collected seashells and fossils and rocks for you.

    He showed me your tarot decks: one perfectly preserved and wrapped in a scarf, a well-worn paper booklet placed upon it that still wore your fingerprints. The other, a practical Rider Waite. I was so happy, actually, relieved, when he said you preferred the Waite deck over the fancier one. I think it has better vibes, too. I pulled the most perfect card from it today. We left it shuffled as you had it, however many ages ago it was that you’d used it last.

    I wonder if you were a Star Seed. I wonder if your spirit really was too much for your body. I wonder if you truly were so magnificently special that you just couldn’t make it here in this reality, and your co-existence with a physical body was doomed, no matter what. I wonder if you infused your light into your son. I wonder if he has the same gifts. (We’ve talked about this at length during our quarantine conversations.)

    I hope you have forgiven me for all the things I did not do. I assumed you had and then promptly put it out of my mind, perhaps selfishly. I hope all that I have done since has made you happy. I hope that continuing on in your tradition honors you.

    And I hope you don’t mind if I use your deck! I read that it is bad luck to buy your own first deck, that it must instead be given or gifted or found. Your son offered it to me in your absence.

    I am sorry that the last thing you ate was Chef Boyardee ravioli. I remembered that recently and it’s been bothering me. It just doesn’t seem right. I know, it’s dumb. I know you don’t actually care. 🙂

    I’m sorry for not saying anything to you out loud while you were dying, besides thanking you for raising such a wonderful son. It was forced because I was sad and scared and all those people were there and I hated it. But I read from The Prophet to you the night before, and that holds more meaning to me than all the rest of it combined.

    I hope you have forgiven me for sometimes misplacing my bitterness toward the disease and putting it on you. I know you know how left out I felt, how third-wheely it could be sometimes. It was really hard for both of us in completely different ways. I did not want to compete for your son’s time. So, I chose not to. You always came first and I understood, I never challenged that. I know sometimes you did, and I have forgiven you, too. I hope it’s okay to say it.

    I told your son today today – or maybe yesterday – that I did not have any impressions of you ever being here or visiting. The first and last time that happened was right after you died, soon after we got rid of the hospital bed in the living room. (I wanted it gone – I think you would have approved of its immediate removal.) I also told him that I believe we can call out to loved ones and they can hear us and respond. They can visit and answer our call. I know he has called out to you in the past, but he didn’t know he could do it and have any effect. He knows now.

    Just sayin’.

    You would be so proud of him.

  • Green and blue and Beautiful

    Green and blue and Beautiful

    In one ear is the deep thu-THUMPing of my husband.
    The other tells me of the mixed tune of the water fountain on the lake, continuously splashing its playful song, and the swish of the tree leaves overhead.
    The breeze is a breath above cool – room temperature and almost imperceptible except for when the gust lifts the hair on my legs and arms.
    I can close my eyes because I know it will all be the same when I open them.
    I love him so much.

  • On Spirit Guides

    On Spirit Guides

    Just now I was having a panic attack in the kitchen. Overcome with anger and frustration with the state of the world (this, in the time of pandemic and pandemic-deniers) and politics, complicated by my lack of sleep, I was literally rocking in my chair with my head in my hands on the verge of tears.

    My husband piped up, “Think of other people, that can help.” So my mind went to my family — suffering in the loneliness of quarantine. Not helpful. I tried to sing a favorite song from my childhood, “Don’t Turn Around” by Ace of Base (so cheesy, I know) but the way it came out of me, garbled and remorseful, was such a mockery that it made me laugh instead.

    For some reason, I picked my head up and asked my husband, “Do you believe in spirit guides or guardian angels, that kind of thing?” He said he didn’t know and turned the question back to me. I thought for a bit and considered the hokey TV psychics (most notably the British guy from Most Haunted who always consulted trusty “Sam”) and said “…mmmmNo. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

    “Why do you ask?” he queried. “I think you do. Don’t you feel better now than you did five minutes ago?”

    “Well, yeah.. but I don’t know. Thinking about woo-woo stuff makes me feel better.”

    “So rationalizing it does what, exactly? I think you answered your own question and immediately threw out the answer.”

    “But if I had a spirit guide or a guardian angel, wouldn’t I know? Wouldn’t I know who they were?”

    “No. Think about that. If their purpose is to guide you, if you knew for sure they were there, it would defeat the purpose.”

    Okay, so he worded things a lot more elegantly than that and the conversation continued on. The point is quite valid. If we do have guides or angels, their purpose is to gently guide us, to push us in the right direction, to subtly influence us or provide inspired insight or comfort. Would it not be … ruined? if we knew they were there…?

    Humans are stubborn. Our desire to rebel is strong and difficult to resist. Most of us are guilty of being defiant just because we don’t like being told what to do. We like to think our good ideas are OUR good ideas. We can sometimes be reluctant to give credit. And even in times when a thought seems to pop into our heads, seemingly from nowhere, we still take credit for subconsciously putting it there… somehow.

    I am open-minded to spirit guides, even if I am still (even after this, sorry, Universe) skeptical. I tend to disbelieve people who see and know their guides, especially by name. I don’t know if I believe fully in angels – except in the case of passed-on relatives who are occasionally visiting their loved ones. I definitely am resistant to the idea that people are assigned guardian angels (especially with wings and halos – it seems so, SO wrong somehow!); some random soul who is charged with looking after you from beyond. Seems ludicrous. But then again… anything can be possible. So once more, I am left with more questions than answers.

    For now, I am satisfied with wondering and keeping my distance. Spirit Guide, Angel, if you are out there listening, thanks for helping me feel better. I won’t blow your cover. 🙂

  • Astrology as a Tool for Enlightenment

    Astrology as a Tool for Enlightenment

    What is the purpose of astrology?

    I think most would say it is a tool to come to know and understand ourselves; it can be a path to self-acceptance and a way to more deeply understand what it is to be human. But can it also be a template?

    Is it a path to enlightenment? To being whole? To feeling… fullfilled?

    I have long been interested in astrology. Since I was young child, I was fascinated by reading my horoscope. At first I thought they were simply messages from psychics. I thought you had to be an all-knowing guru with a supernatural gift; horoscopes were divinely inspired passages from the great beyond. I am not sure when it clicked, exactly, but I have come to realize now that it is simply a skill that can be developed like any other. It is so very detailed and requires absorbing so much old and passed-down knowledge that I am positive that it is beyond me to fully grasp the concepts well enough in my lifetime to be able to craft horoscopes. What I do know is that it is much like deciphering any other language, or solving for a scientific equation. For example, if Mars moves into Capricorn and is trine to Saturn, what consequence will this have a Taurus sun/Aquarius moon? …Well, I don’t know. I could probably figure it out, but it would take a lot of consulting other sources!

    But, I digress. I am an Aries sun and I certainly encapsulate many Aries tendencies. I can be impulsive. I can leap into big life-altering decisions head-first with a defiant “I WILL make this work” attitude. I can get very angry and hold grudges. I can sometimes be blunt and hurtful if the truth needs to be told that way. (I am writing this with fiery excitement, check my vibes!) I can be overly ambitious and start big projects with good intentions … and abandon them. I can be stubborn and hard-headed, like my Ram counterpart. I am frequently a little too loud – in conversation, laughter, and don’t get me started on singing in the car. I have aptly renamed it “screamsinging”. I have toxic Aries traits, too: I deflect blame almost always (sorry, Husband!). I need to be right. All of these things are very much “me” but I am not some of the things Aries is always said to be: Confrontational. A Leader. Aggressive. Sporty. Organized. Powerful. Hmm… Nope. Can’t relate.

    Enter Gemini. (This is the whole point – forgive my verbosity.) Gemini stalks my placements. What I know about Gemini is only just beyond beginners knowledge. Gemini is a mutable sign, which may be why I never took much stock in taking notice (Ahem, *big Aries mood*). I am a Gemini moon, Gemini rising (First House), and I have Gemini in Chiron… and Chiron is also in my First House. That’s a triple Gemini whammy. What are you trying to say, Universe?

    I feel like there is a big, BIG message there, which brings me back to my initial prompt. Can astrology act as a path to fulfillment? If I intentionally nurture my Gemini nature… will I become whole?

  • Spirit Animals

    Spirit Animals

    I’ve always felt incredibly connected to animals and desperately wanted my own ‘spirit animal.’ I checked out countless books from the library on the subject and have done many meditations, waiting patiently for the right animal to reveal itself to me. I have waited in the misty Nothing, anxious for the fog to clear to see the animal there.

    I think of all the animals I have a strong affinity towards: dogs, wolves, foxes, deer, even shaggy highland cows and goats. Elk. Moose. Predominately North American animals that are familiar, cute and comforting.. and I long thought that the Stag, even the legendary White Stag, could be my spirit animal. I have learned that it was all forced and wishful thinking.

    Just now I was sitting on my porch and thinking about how lovely the birds were when it hit me.
    When I revisit all of the Places in my life and I draw them out in my Memory Palace, I often include the sounds of the birds to round out the picture and breathe life into it. In my childhood home there were Mourning Doves and Owls. I remember holding the remains of a hatched Robin’s egg, brilliantly turquoise and fragile, in my hands, just outside the front door. The unmistakable call of the Whippoorwills in the backyard. At our cabin, at aptly named Lake Thunderbird, the majestic Cranes and Egrets that greeted us in the swamps along the highway. There were Bluejays there, too, and they were special. Oh, and how could I forget the Ostrich farm!! You get the point. Each important Place that has shaped me includes a vivid memory of a specific bird.

    Each day when I sit on our porch (and I am not kidding when I say I am so blessed to live in this suburban wildlife paradise) I watch the birds in awe and I try to name all the ones I see: Robin, Sparrow, Blackbird, Goose, Duck, Cardinal, Red-winged Blackbird, Canary, Woodpecker, Seagull, even a Parrot once that got loose. Then there are the special ones: the Cormorants (or Water Turkeys, as I call them), hunting in the water in groups, with dangerous cool kid vibes. Beautiful white Egrets in yoga poses… The ancient Great Blue Heron that demands attention and respect… and lastly, we circle back again to the Bluejay.

    There is something about the Bluejay that speaks to me and I know now that this little bird, small but lovely, is mine.

    A quick Google search can tell me that the Bluejay, as a totem, symbolizes curiosity, vigilance, assertiveness, intelligence. The Bluejay values truth and clarity. They are not social creatures but they are loud, and resonate with the throat chakra and communication. The Bluejay says “It’s okay to be unpopular. Make your voice heard. Stand proud.”

    This clearly needs some more reflection, as Google cannot make revelations for me… but I wanted to document it while I was stewing it over.

    Until later.