Another post

(trigger warning- this post includes mention and some description of rape/sexual assault) 

I've talked a lot about cutting ties, and how I've cut a lot of people from my life over the years... but what I haven't really talked about is how many wonderful people I've gained in my life.

There are people in my life who I consider family (you know who you are) but none that I share any blood relation with as far as I know. These are people who have stood by me and accepted me, and who know my deepest secrets. These are people who I trust with my life, and in some cases, my soul.
I share many wonderful and deep connections with people who I have adopted as my chosen family.

I used to live a double life, where some people would know that I'm a magical person, and others would have no idea. These days I mostly just live life as myself. If people ask about my religious orientation, I'll tell them. (provided they're being polite about it) Are there some people who I don't really tell about this side of myself? Yes, but I'm not actively trying to hide it either. I'm also at a place in my life where I don't have to be discreet.  I run my own business, I'm at a very liberal college, and I live with a delightfully bizarre group of people who are quite happy to have me here.

It's strange, because I find when I cut ties with people, the void fills up pretty quickly with other people who I may have never met before, or noticed before. Suddenly I have new people in my life to fill the gap, or even completely bridge the gap of where someone else was before. The connections I've been seeing to people over the months has been incredible.... but this is also because when I cut someone out, I find myself seeking out the people who I know I can rely on. I've reconnected to so many people over this last year, because suddenly I realized their value on a level that I may not have before.

People are beautiful. I love people. Sometimes I think it's one of my greatest flaws. I love to the point of excess, and so I forgive to the point of excess, because I know human nature and what it means to be a beautifully flawed creature. I have mixed feelings on this. On one hand, some traditions consider forgiveness to be the greatest virtue. On the other hand....some people are just scum. But the problem lies in the fact that when I look at people, even the bad ones....I see the beaten child, I see the acting out and violence out of perceived helplessness and I can't help but feel sorry for these people, even when I'm the victim. I see everyone's inherent godhood buried under the layers of muck, and I feel sorry that these people may never realize their own worth, or even realize that they're alive. Except in the moment of being harmed, I feel no anger. I feel only pity.

There's this concept of righteous rage, and when I worked with Sekhmet originally I felt it.  It was pure, and strong. It felt "right"so the question I have to ask myself as I ready myself to call on Sekhmet again, to work with her and walk with her, where does righteous rage end, and just "rage" begin? It's not an emotion I'm familiar with anymore. I let go of it a few years ago, or I just turned it off somehow, and buried it under other things. The issue is I don't know. When is rage balanced? When is it "right?"

When I was being held against my will by my attacker, that feral that primal side of me wanted out. It wanted to rip his throat out. But the way I was being restrained...and the injuries I had already been dealt...my rational side told me that dropping into a "beserker" sort of mindset and just letting the animal out to do its damage had the potential of being fatal. There were too many variables, and I'd already discovered that this person could physically overpower me. So I just glared, waiting it out and evaluating every move. The beast was wild behind my eyes, and I know he saw it. I could tell he saw it, and it made a dark part of me proud that such a person could feel fear from me, especially with what he dared to do.

It still amazes me on some level that I was able to hold back...apparently that feral part of my mind understood enough that I was acting in my best interest, the interest of self preservation, of survival. But the rage, the seething fury of being restrained and used in such a way, the desire to break free, and rip, tear, and make this person scream as he faced something he couldn't possibly understand... it was strong, stronger than any rage I can ever remember feeling, and just like with Sekhmet, it felt right, and it felt pure.

So why do I question it now? Why is there this moral dilemma in my mind? This person deserved to die for what they were doing to me, and what they tried to do to me. They gave up the right to life when they took advantage of my trust, and used my body. They may have even tried to get rid of the evidence by killing me, if circumstances had been only slightly different. Am I in such denial of the severity of what happened that I can't feel my own anger? If so, then Sekhmet is the perfect deity to re-align myself with. I have a right to my emotions, and I have a right to my rage. I can feel hints of it on the edges of my perception, and I feel like I have to embrace it, this anger, this fire. Passivity doesn't suit me, especially now.

This really isn't what I wanted this post to be about... but it's what came out, so I guess it's what needed to be said.