as within, so without

This week brought the first rains of winter. I thought of my friend Reya, and the way she writes about the weather defining her. Witches have the saying “As above, so below”, a sentiment which is echoed in our belief that what happens between the worlds, affects all the worlds. The relentless grey skies of this week and my interior landscape have been perfect mirrors to each other this week. This week has been a case study of “as within, so without”. The grey hasn’t lifted yet, in all the realms.

Early this week, the rain came down in a torrent soon after the phone call where I learned that my mother has breast cancer. My mother has been dying ever since I can remember. The diseases and maladies have been more phantom than real, and the last time I was worried that she was being operated on for cancer it turned out that she was actually having a face lift. This time, however, it appears she has The Real Thing. It looks like she will have a double mastectomy. As a witch, I’ve marveled for years that she hasn’t been sicker, there’s been so many invocations of serious illnesses. Haven’t we all used the excuse of illness to get out of something only to find that soon our throat is itchy and a cold or worse is coming on? Something worse is here big time now for my mother.

After I found out and had talked to my mom, I started to clean house. For me, more than anything, my house defines me. Given what I had just heard, it was time to empty trash and do laundry. Down at the washing machine I met up with Sarah, partner of Ani, who lives in our studio apartment. Sarah had tears streaming down her face due to the salsa Ani was making. She dared me to try to enter the kitchen. I could only take one step in before the heat of the peppers chased me out. Ani is a Mexican American activist who is a real force here in the Mission, working at the Cultural Center and Galleria de la Raza. Being able to cook up this hot salsa unfazed just underscores how tough this Chicana is. Standing back out under the landing, with rain pouring all about, we laughed about the power of both the peppers and of Ani. When the laughter died down, I told them about my mother and had the strong sense that those burning peppers were doing their part to help me prepare for what comes.

The rain of that day made clear that there are leaks in the house that need to be repaired, including a leak we spent a great deal of money on fixing last winter that has mysteriously reappeared. The roof is holding, it’s the sides that need attention. Going into this winter requires some real work to be done, work I thought was no longer needed.

As without, so within. This has been one grey week. Saturday I fly off to New York with my girlfriend. When I come back I have a lot to deal with. Much of it stuff I thought I’d worked out a long time ago. Gosh, things circle back, don’t they?