branches up, roots down

It rained almost nonstop for the entire span of Pantheacon. Pretty much every conversation contained expressions of gratitude, as most Pagans were cognizant of the serious threat of drought hanging over California . The rain fell as a blessing on the land and as a blessing on this year’s conference. This year was a significant one for me. It marked the anniversary of my diagnosis of Type II Diabetes. I’ve kept my blood sugar within normal levels for a full turn of the wheel by making big changes in my diet and by keeping moving. I am healthy, and that has been a major magical working. Shifting consciousness by going into trance and working between the worlds is a breeze for many of us Pagans. Shifting consciousness to brussel sprouts and a brisk walk, not M&M’s and a good novel, being what the body wants, is a heck of a lot harder. But, I’ve done it, and I kept it up at Pantheacon, where the easiest food to obtain is chocolate chip cookies and pizza and the ...

It’s now a little over two months since I was released from the ring of hell which is commonly known as a hospital. The florescent light, the comings and going at all hours of the night to poke and prick, plus the silent noisiness of the dead, the entire experience has me bound and determined to do everything I can to stay on this side of the ring for the rest of this life. I’m doing well, incredibly so. I am managing the diabetes without medication of any kind. This means being acutely aware of what I am eating and how much I am moving my body. I now am an expert on the glycemic index of almost any food, of knowing just how quickly anything I eat turns to sugar. I have managed to stay well within the normal range for the two months I’ve been out, despite some difficult challenges. For years, especially in witchcamp settings, I had a humorous contempt for all of those with special food needs. Why do lesbians seem to be more lactose intolerant, allergic to gluten, and all a...

I've just come back from driving my son and his best friend to South San Francisco to go to a party. All the way there the full moon held our attention, big and brilliant in the sky. We all longed to capture the moment, all wishing we had a camera. For teenagers, they were suitably awed and amazed. It's a spectacular moon on a spectacular night. It's exactly one moon cycle since I came home from the hospital. I am settling into acceptance of the diagnosis of diabetes. There has been grief for my old self and my old ways. I miss potatoes. I miss margaritas. There also has been gratitude for the healthy changes the diagnosis has wrought. Would I ever have changed my eating habits in such a dramatic way or stepped up the exercise to such a degree? Probably not. I am proud that I am managing the disease without medication and that my blood sugar is now on the low side of the completely normal range. Eating a low glycemic diet - which means eating only foods which slow...

Two weeks ago there was a notable eclipse. I won’t be forgetting it, as that was the day I came home and began a new phase of life. I had spent four days and three nights in the underworld of institutionalized western medicine, a shamanic immersion if there ever was one. I'd walked into the emergency room with what I thought was a small matter that would be taken care of with antibiotics. I walked out several days later with the diagnosis of type 2 diabetes, armed with insulin, syringes, a glucometer, and yes, antibiotics too. In between the going in and coming out, I was treated for diabetic ketoacidosis , as well as the virulent and resistant MRSA staph that is plaguing this city. Thankfully, the staph culture eventually came back negative. Ketoacidosis has a high enough mortality rate as it is. Teamed with staph, my chances of survival would have been uncomfortably dicey. Interpreting the dream of those few days was rather easy. I started out worried about a skin eru...