Del has written a beautiful, insightful, and at times heart-rending essay about what happens when people do and don’t energetically and spiritually invest in the success of their events.
I’d also like to note that while he wrote this post from only his perspective, the whole of Tashrisketlin supports and agrees with the stated experiences and positions in it.
Originally posted on Sex, Gods, and Rock Stars:
Before I begin: This is my personal observation and feelings. This is not political commentary, not a public criticism, not an official statement of any sort. I am only speaking as myself, a person who experienced these things and had these reactions, and not as any official representative of anything other than my Gods. I hate that I even have to state that, and I know there will be fallout anyway, but there it is.
I should also state that this is going to take quite a while to get the point, but I ask that you hang in there, because I think it’s a fairly important one. You just need to understand all the experiences that lead to the revelation for it to make sense. I promise I’m not usually this verbose.
There we were, standing by the firelight. I was coming back to my body after a prolonged possessory experience. I looked around at the people gathered, and I could feel that each one of them – the strangers, the supporters, the guardians, even those who were there for my benefit – all wanted the same thing. They wanted her to succeed. As the tendrils of His control faded, one of the last things I shared with Him was this sense of support for her in this journey. It was more than just her spouse, her family, her friends. It was as if the very air we breathed, the flickering flames, the grass beneath our feet, the tears in our eyes were all reaching towards her, wanting the best possible outcome. – An excerpt from my private ordeal mastery journal
Ramblewood is locally well known as the campground that allows us to be our true selves, in whatever way that manifests. I have attended all sorts of gatherings there, from family friendly pagan festivals to weekends intended to help collectively grieve the passing of a friend. Sometimes I watch children playing on the jungle gym and fondly remember when a naked man was tied up inside of it, being shocked by a violet wand. There is something wonderfully freeing, knowing that there is at least one place on the planet where I can come close to being all the things I am, without fear of reprisal or rejection.