When I was new in sobriety, like five years into it (one stays new a long, long time, it is like growing up again), a sobriety sister gave me a gift of frankinsence. I burned some that night, and my whole house smelled like high mass. Gee, I thought only the church could smell like that. And it occurred to me that my home was my church, my sacred space. How sweet it was to know that. I didn't need any golden patens or embroidered albs to be with the Spirit of the Universe. God had my address! Now, my sponsor had shown me her altar, so I finally made one of my own. This isn't it, by the way. That one is in my bedroom and holds some of my totems, as well as angels, minerals, and assorted doodads that are precious to me. This table honors the angels, and I notice the angel bell is missing. Oh, I put it to the side, on top of the piano. Anyway, I used to religiously pull a card from the three boxes daily. Now, it is hit or miss, but today, wow, I pulled some doozies. From the angel box, LIGHT. Gary Zukav, one of my spiritual teachers, talks a lot about light. It is all we see, you know, light reflected from the objects. And from the Tarot, ACE OF CUPS, a fountain of happiness. And from the Medicine cards, BUTTERFLY. How appropriate, since I just drew, painted and cut out 107 of them, 30 enormous and 77 small, for our party this Saturday. Ah, it is all good today, for sure. Oh, and that is my goddess in the center, holding all goodness out to me. And this is me, accepting it.
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