"The unexamined life is not worth living" Socrates

- - scatterings of ideas sent to my younger self, a sensitive girl who was fooled into believing she was a boy because of anatomy - -

Wednesday 29 January 2020


“Real isn't how you are made, ... It's a thing that happens to you."*

Almost six years ago, a post called Timeless appeared here.  It narrated an imagined encounter with a guide on the spiritual plane (if that sounds hokey ... ah well) named Aadi, and an alternate self, Beth. This was not the first post of that sort. Dreamtime encounters became an important part of my search (or quest) for inner peace. To be fair, it might be that becoming open to the idea of dreamtime encounters was what was important and the rest flowed from that.

So much has happened to me since then, and yet when I read what that person (who seems so remote from who I am now) wrote those years ago, it still feels authentic. In retrospect, Aadi and Beth should have seemed far-fetched (even to me), but they weren't - for me then or now. They were facets of myself and it was very important for me at that time to know them and flesh them out in these posts. Aadi and Beth were companions and helpers along the way on a quest that ended with me accepting who I am. 

I was on that quest for many years. It took me to dark places where danger existed - but demons were not slain. Instead, they became better understood and eventually accepted or, at least, put in their place. 

Long before starting this blog and connecting with real people who could help me understand myself, there were visits to fiction sites on the internet where folks like me were magically transformed to become real. As we know, stage magic is all in the preparation. In the end, nothing is really transformed. The rabbit and dove are always real before they are pulled from the hat. The assistant only appears to have been sawn in half. 

A different sort of magic lives inside of us and takes a sort of preparation that is quite different. After it is over it feels more real than anything sudden, theatrical, or mysterious. Yet, if I tried to explain what happened to me and all the transformations before name changes and surgery, it would sound ... well ... like magic. 

Any decent quest changes the protagonist forever. Without the journey, I would not exist now. Without the struggles I couldn't feel the peace I feel now. 

It seems to me the source of transformation for good is love - for others and self.  The Velveteen Rabbit*  would never have become real without the love of the Boy. For me, the child was within. There was forgiveness, then love from that long-neglected child. What sealed the deal was the love given by others. When I reached out, love came from so many directions; from people whom I had never met before (or since in many cases). Without support and reassurance from them, I might never have come home from my quest. Yet, looking back now, it seems like coming home safely was inevitable; just like a novel. 

The very end of my quest involved two people rescuing each other, and that story would definitely make a wonderful fantasy fiction!

"And a tear, a real tear, trickled down his little shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground.
And then a strange thing happened. For where the tear had fallen a flower grew out of the ground, a mysterious flower, not at all like any that grew in the garden. It had slender green leaves the colour of emeralds, and in the centre of the leaves a blossom like a golden cup. It was so beautiful that the little Rabbit forgot to cry, and just lay there watching it. And presently the blossom opened, and out of it there stepped a fairy."
*The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real,  Margery Williams

“All my life I have been wandering in the dark - but now I have found your heart - and am satisfied.”
 “And what do all the great words come to in the end, but that? - I love you - I am at rest with you - I have come home.”
Busman’s Honeymoon, Dorothy L. Sayers