Presenting My One Word Challenge: PASSION

Anyone whose read my blog, may see me often refer to The Year of  the Lovers, after which I note that it is the 6th Major Arcana. This is Tarot specific. The Majors are the ‘big magillas’ in a deck. It’s all about archetypes. Each one actually represents  an archetype. Majors, in a reading, generally represent in important Soul message.

When someone begins to learn how to read, one of the important areas is to find which cards are personal to the reader. This is done simply by taking your birthday and adding up the numbers. Any resulting number above 22 is reduced down to a single denominator. Thus 23 is reduced by adding 2 plus 3 which equals 5. That makes  the 5th Major Arcana, the student’s personal card. The 5th Major is generally called The Heirophant. In my deck, the 5th Major is called The Teacher. It means basically the same thing.

One of the other significant ways to look at utilizing the Majors, is to calculate what the current year, 2015, when added to the first part of a person’s birthdate, equals, adding the current year instead of the birth year. That card is called the Year Card.

My year card is the 6th Major Arcana, which is The Lovers. This is a guide for me as I make my way through the calendar year. The Lovers is about following my passions. I would say that my passions are reflected in the blog. My Spiritual Path, which includes using Tarot, is one of my major passions. Music is a major passion, as is writing. The Lovers as a year card has been really active in my everyday so far since the beginning of 2015. I found my way back to writing through Blogging 101. I look forward to returning to many of my favorite things to do outside when the warm weather moves in, like Secret Spot Meditations; Geocaching, and Communing with the Green Ones, and so on and so forth.

That being said, my word for this year is Passion. And a cool thing about it, is there is a song for it!

It is, in effect, my path.

And even before I found Lisa W. Tetting’s  blog, I’d been really walking my path this year. That is what authenticity is all about.

The Great Escape

Finish It #4 Blogging Event by Author S B Mazing

They were standing on top of the mountain, overlooking the valley and the ocean. It was hard to believe that they were here after all they’ve been through.

“Pinch me.” she said. “I need to know this is real.”

He sighed. “It’s real.”

“Pinch me anyway.”

He laughed. “I’m not falling for that one.”

“Geez, you’re no fun!” She dropped her knapsack onto the ground, and then sat, and started to rummage through it.

He looked at her. “You’re not even going to take an extra minute to enjoy this?”

Looking up at him, quizically, she had to wonder if that was yet another put down. “I’m hungry. I want to eat.”

Placing his own bag next to her’s, he walked over to the edge. An urge to kiss the dirt struck him. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since they’d seen this world. Earth. He drank in the beauty, breathed in the clean air, and silently thanked the gods for safe passage.

“You want one?” Her voice broke his reverie. Glancing back, he saw she was offering him one of the rations they’d slipped into their bag before making their get-away.

“Actually, I think I’ll wait for real food. That shit is lousy.”

“You planning on running down to the supermarket?” She retorted, snidely.

“Nope,” he said, slinging the zat over his shoulder. “I’m catching me some dinner.” Turning, he began making his way toward a trail some yards off to the left, west, if he remembered. That’s where the sun set here. He called back to her, “Why don’t you make us a fire?”

On the ship, it had seemed a fluke that they both awoke from stasis before destination was reached. More strange, was they were the only two, of the group who did. They were captives of a race which had been abducting Earthlings for, probably centuries.

They were being shuttled off to another world, from the Gunk’s home world. Testing had shown them to be of a quality such as would serve the Gunk use of humans to  produce progany for the food supply. But the atmosphere was incompatible with human biology, so a breeding ground had been found on a planet which was quite similar to, possibly exactly like Earth.

As he made his way through the brambles of the trail, the whys and wherefores began to puzzle his mind. Was it planned by others? Had someone known that the ship would pass by Earth so close as to allow an escape?

Upon waking, and after clarity of the situation, that only he and one other were out of their pods, they scrambled to hide themselves from the sensors that scanned the holding bays of human cargo. They waited, huddled together, listening, barely breathing. But their disturbance seemed to go unnoticed. No alarms were set off.

Eventually, they crawled out from cover, careful not to pass in front of sensors or cameras. At the end of a long tunnel, as they explored, she found two bags, pushed inside a doorless cubby. “What do you think they are?” She asked. He shrugged, and gingerly crouched down to pull one out for a better look.

“It’s supplies.” His hands examined several items.

“For who?” She was now searching the other sack.

“I don’t know.”

“Look!” she said, pulling out a map. A circle was drawn around a topography that seemed familiar.

“X marks the spot,” he said, pointing to the red marking. Taking the paper from her, he turned it over. In a neat printing they read together.

“When you come out of stasis, and find these, make your way to the far end of a crawlspace which leads to the back of the ship. It will run parallel to the main corridor where the pods are. You’ll see space suits hanging on hooks at the end. Don these, and enter the hatch marked garbage.” They looked at each other, each uncertain that this was meant for them.

“Garbage?” she asked.

“Let me finish.”
“It’s your only way off the ship. It’s your only way out. The garbage is released from the ship and the container will drop through the atmosphere. You must make it through. You must let them know.” He stopped reading.

“Is that it?”

He shook his head. “It says that there have been others sent this way with each voyage. We have to find the others to ensure the survival of our species.”

“Who are these others?” She asked.

He shook his head. “Luke Skywalker. Princess what’s-her-name. Who cares right now. If we have a chance of getting off this death trap, then I say we try.” They sat silently, each considering if they should follow the instructions. Quietly, they hefted a repacked bag, and searched for the crawl space.  There was only one hatch at the end. Two white suits with helmets hung upon hooks and they slipped into them.

With great hesitancy, they opened the hatch, and found themselves gagging from the putrid smell that wafted out.

“The helmets. Secure them.” He did his own, and helped set hers in place. The relief of the lack of noxous scent was apparent on their faces. With knapsacks now hung over their shoulders, they climbed into the darkened chamber, pulling the hatch closed behind them.

The darkness was complete, and the girl thought she was just as happy to not see what was floating around them. “Hey,” she called out. “Can you hear me?”

“Uh huh.”

“What do we do now?” She wasn’t sure they’d made the right decision, but the alternative was likely worse.

“We wait.”

And they did. It seemed hours, though it was so much like being in one of those old sensory deprivation tanks, that time pretty much became irrelevant.

It happened so suddenly, there was no time to think about the consequences. All they felt, at first, was a sense of movement, and being jostled about. Then, as if they were in one of those express elevators, there was an intense virtigo, and the darkness seemed to shimmer like waves of heat, when you look through an intense flame.

The sense they were on some crazy amusement park ride held them in a vice like grip. Dizzy, dizzy, hot, hotter. Brain shaking vibration. Bright exploding light, morphing into white gauzy haze. Free floating, outside the container. Watching it falling apart, and scatter away. Hands grasping for each other.

His voice suddenly loud and clear inside her helmet. “pull the cord next to your belt.” But she didn’t understand. His body snapped up, and there was a sense of slowing. He grasped her arm, and pulled her toward him before she could disappeared below him. Finding her cord, he pulled hers, and watched as the lines connected to her parachute pulled taut, causing her body to jump, and then slow like his had.

He closed his eyes, feeling as if he was buoyant. He could hear her breathing, her voice beginning to sqeek out, high pitched. “Listen to me.” He spoke into his microphone. “Just let it carry you down. Don’t look. Close your eyes. I’ll make sure you don’t crash.”

They drifted down, and down, and the clouds began to clear, and there were  mountains all around. He could see way down below, the blue of a massive body of water.

“Oh!” she said, as if to herself. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

He agreed, though silently. He was concentrating on how fast they were approaching the top of one mountain. “Listen,” he said. “Are you listening?”

“To what?”

“To me. We’re gonna land. You need to let your feet run with the movement as you touch down.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Just go with it. It’ll soften your landing.”

They waited until they could see a huge flat expanse of earth, a seeming runway. He tensed for impact. There was a sudden expansion below them, coming from their suits. A huge balloon like flooring spread out, and up, surrounding them, as if in a bubble. Each rolled, bouncing softly, and slowed, as they came to rest against a copse of trees.

Silence. Then her voice breaking through. “How do I get out of this?”

He looked around himself. Considered that there must be some kind of release. Then it hit him. “Unlatch your helmet.” He reached up to his, pulling at the clasp that held the two parts of the suit together. There was deflation, and he felt his body grasped by gravity. “Did you get it?” he asked, but his voice was no longer amplified, as it had been when encased in the suit. As the surrounding balloon like covering settled upon the soil, he saw her struggling.

When he was free of his, he went to her, and sliced through the rubber covering, and saw it deflate. Her face was red with her exertion. He reached out and unclasped her helmet, and helped her out of the suit. For a moment, they just stood there, looking around.

There was a trail which led toward a lighter area beyond the trees. As they emerged into the light, they were standing on top of the mountain, overlooking the valley and the ocean. It was hard to believe that they were here after all they’ve been through.

25 Songs, 25 Days

Day 8 – A song that reminds me of my first love

This was more difficult than I thought it would be. I know the first time I noticed boys, was about when I was in 3rd grade. Though, can that be called first love? I carried a torch for him for more years than I care to admit.

Okay, so there’s that. But I looked at songs that were around, and I found very little that was more about first boyfriends, as opposed to first love, which could be, and was, unrequited. Most of those songs that I listened to were for girls singing about boys who were teenagers, not seven year olds. So sorry, Harry, I couldn’t justify you as an actual first love. But you’ll always be in my heart.

Moving on, I thought about who my next big crush was, and I’d say it was around the time I was 15 or 16 years old. Now we’re talking. All the Be My Baby, He’s So Fine, and Is it in his Kiss songs, were more along the speed I thought was actually appropriate for the ‘first love’ idea.

I knew right away who it was, so the right song was all that I needed to find. Is it perfect? Probably not, but it’s got his name in it. Now that’s pretty cool, and it was more in keeping with the wishing and hoping kind of song. That’s why Johnny Angel by Shelly Fabares works for my first love.