The first time I ever came to the land, it was for the summer trans gathering you invited me to, two years ago. I was fortunate to have your help figuring out what was going on. My spouse and I stayed in Temperance.
I was confused by the cracking black & white tiles; the floor was falling apart at the edges. Probably it still is. I was confused by the heap of bedding in the corner, a broken fan, and minimal art or decoration. What was this room usually used for?
Simple fixes were being neglected, which means more and more disrepair. This place was so amazing; why was it falling apart? I guessed the problem was a lack of money.
I thought I knew what was happening there, as someone experienced with community. It was conceited of me to believe I had insight. The problems were so much more than that. These days my understanding changes and changes again.
tarot
It was a big deal, to visit there– a place I had feared for a long time. So I pulled tarot cards to ask Spirit what to expect. Like usual, I asked what the biggest potential reward was, and the biggest potential hazard.
Asking specifically about you, I pulled the two of cups about the biggest hazard. Wow, the biggest hazard was marrying you?
Definitely I have issues with over-committing. But if that was the biggest hazard, I felt pretty safe. In that deck, two of cups shows petals falling, sprinkling on two hands grasping one another. We would be ok.
broken heart
The whole time my spouse and I were there, I was learning a new place and met many queers. I led ritual and helped with food. The whole time, I wondered when the risk would arrive.
I watched you prioritize your new partner, neglecting me and your longer-term partner, and I felt left out. Our last morning there, I was lying in bed, crying about how you had broken my heart. You say I matter to you, but you were not choosing me.
“I guess Spirit was wrong,” I said. “There is absolutely no risk that I would marry this person, on this trip. How strange, Spirit was wrong…”
That moment, there was a knock at the door of Temperance.
“Come in!” I said.
You walked in, and I thought, “Ok, here we go.”
spirits of the land
It was then I learned how the spirits of the land like watching people have sex. They don’t have bodies anymore. Can you blame them, for wanting to watch?
That was the first time we ever lay in a bed together. You touched my back and shoulder. I thought we might kiss. You were sorry I was hurting, yet dodged the feelings. You wanted things to be ok without talking about what was actually going on.
I wear a bracelet, necklace, ring, and tattoos for protection. The thing I most need protection from is myself. I need protection from my own choice to stay in the deep end, giving my heart, life, and body to people who don’t know what to do with it.
Did I marry you that day? Strong loyalty was kindled. You hurt me, and I stayed. I had faith that we would find balance one day; you are an amazing person. Some destiny is shared.
We’re both almost different people now. But that part of the situation is the same. You hurt me, and I stay. Always, I’m suffused with faith.
balance
The land is a place of extremes. Anyone looking for temperance would have a hard time finding temperance there. The land shows us our deepest issues– pulls us in to learn, then pushes us out.
The spirits of the land try to break our cars so we stay. I say prayers of protection on my way in every time, and prayers of gratitude on my way out.
I love you in a special way just for you. Partly I want to protect you, but you need to make your own mistakes. It’s an honor to watch you make mistakes. It’s an honor to watch you stretch and shape shift. One day, it might be an honor to let you go.
But yesterday I asked Spirit about your long term role in my life, and Spirit said the Lovers. In my deck the Lovers is sugar and other sweeteners. It shows a very Portland-looking couple having warm beverages together. They don’t look all that happy. But the sun is rising behind them over the top of a mountain. Their fate is shared, or at least their breakfast.
