A Wise Word:

Witchcraft is all about living to the heights and depths of life as a way of worship. --LY DE ANGELES

Saturday, August 23, 2014

A Dangerous Mind

It is a generally accepted fact that thoughts, negative or positive, contain power.  Since witches frequently work with and rely on this power to make changes in the world around them, nobody should be more familiar with this fact than a witch.  One night last week I forgot and learned a valuable lesson. 

Maybe it all started because I don't get angry very often...or because I was tired...or because I am enormously pregnant...what ever it was, it was completely uncalled for.  In many ways, I hate to even admit that it happened because I did inflict harm on someone.  Someone I love very much and who would never consider harming me: Superman. 

Sleep has been a difficult issue at our house lately.  As my girth has grown immensely with this pregnancy, I have developed as serious case of insomnia.  That, combined with the fact that our bed is has a miniature version of the Grand Canyon running down the center of it, some times makes nights insufferably long.  I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position and when I finally settle into something semi-suitable poor circulation causes my legs and feet to start twitching madly.  As bad as this is for me, I at least have the option of attempting to nap the following day.  My poor husband just drags his exhausted self through the day with the hopes of getting a few hours of sleep the following night in the same defunct bed with the same crazy, tossing, turning, twitching wife.  On the night in question, it just got to be too much for him to bare.

It was a particularly hot evening and I have to admit we were both already feeling a little off.  I had found a semi comfortable position and was starting to drift off when the twitching started.   Fatigue had me that evening and my body was determined to sleep, so I proceeded to head toward la-la land not noticing that the equally exhausted man beside me was about to bubble over.  Just before I was about to doze he nearly vaulted out of the bed, snatched up his pillow, and stormed to the couch muttering about his lack of sleep, the fact that I did have a nap option where he did not, and maybe that I took excessive advantage of those naps. 

A bit taken back and hurt by the mutterings, I followed him to the living room to try and make things right. When it was apparent that he did not want to return to bed and that he simply did not even want to talk to me, I returned to our bedroom wide awake.  Sleep was no longer an option so I decided to try and read, but found myself struggling with the comfort issue once again.  Sitting on the bed made my back hurt and it seemed like I had to reposition myself after every paragraph. 

I longed for the slightly elevated level of comfort the couch would have offered my awkwardly shaped figure. 

I struggled to focus on my book and instead dwelled on the comments he had made on his way out of the bedroom. 

I wished he were in the bed and I in the living room so I at least had to option of finding some dull show on Hulu to lull me to sleep. 

I imagined him sleeping blissfully. 

I got angry. 

Book open and forgotten in my lap, I begin to simmer.  Soon I was sending pointedly hostile thoughts in his direction.  I didn't think his attitude was fair and I wanted it gone.  Specifically, I wanted him to know just how uncomfortable I was...how uncomfortable I had been for weeks.  After all, it was his baby too and missing a little sleep was minor compared to all the discomforts that had seemed to pile up on me during this pregnancy.  Unkind and negative thoughts erupted from my mind and when I had exhausted my list of grievances, I started all over at the beginning.  Of course, they were petty grievances, but with the state I was in they grew like mushrooms in manure. It was a vicious cycle and who knows how long it would have continued had my overly pregnant self not had to make a bathroom run. 

On my way through the living room, I noticed that Superman instead of blissfully lounging in sleep, was laying in a somewhat contorted position on the couch.  He was also grumbling incoherently and moaning.  Urged by my stressed bladder, I continued on to the bathroom, but when his condition hadn't changed on the way back through I knew I had to wake him.  Physically distancing myself from the negativity I had created in the bedroom had caused my anger to dissipate and I sat on the edge of the couch and woke him as a nice, sane wife should.  I gently spoke to him and asked what was wrong.  His answer caused my stomach to heave.  Soon after moving to the couch he had developed a terrible headache and what sleep he had managed to get had been plagued by nightmares. 

For all the times I had sent him positive energy to calm a rough day or ease an illness, it had never occurred to me that my anger and it's negative energy would effect him on equal footing.   Of course, I wanted to right the wrong I had done and immediately set about surrounding him with healing power while easing him back toward sleep after bringing him back to bed.  Luckily, it was a lesson learned with minimal damage done.  He forgave me and all is well, but it is a lesson I will not soon forget.