What if We're Praying to the Wrong God?

I was taught that Deity (Gods, Goddesses, The Powers That Be, whatever you believe in) will give you only what you can handle or what you need. It almost sounds as if offering prayers or asking for anything is a waste of time, yet – as we state in our rituals – we offer our prayers.

But what if you pray to your Deity and whatever it is that you're requesting goes incredibly wrong? You do your ritual, make your offerings, implore your God or Goddess to help maybe move the energies about a bit to facilitate whatever it is you're needing, then go about your business – everything we're taught from day one about spellwork. Then things start moving just as you had requested. Looks like your spell is in motion! Hooray!

And then.....it all goes insanely crazy wrong. You get the money you need to cover your bills, but as soon as you pay them, a huge emergency pops up and you have no way to take care of it. You receive the job offer you were hoping for, but the terms have changed and you'll be making a lot less than you were before. You finally meet a seemingly wonderful person, but as time goes by, you realize this person is absolute the worst possible human being on the face of the planet – and they are never going to leave you alone.

What the hell????

Well, it occurred to me – what if we're offering our prayers to the wrong Deity? I'm not saying we should all drop Paganism and start practicing Christianity, because I've seen plenty of Christians that have identical problems. But here's the thing.....just about everyone I know chooses who they offer prayers to. Every once in a while, I do hear about someone chosen by their Deity, but that doesn't seem to happen too often. So....what if we've been choosing the wrong God? And when we pray to the wrong God, what if we just piss them off and they think it's funny to mess with us? You know, let us think everything is gonna be groovy, then yank the rug out from under us right when everything is good.

Just a thought.....

It's Not All My Fault

I wish it hadn’t taken so long for me to realize this, but everything that has gone wrong in my life is not entirely my fault.  Every failed relationship, every lost opportunity – it’s not necessarily all because of things I’ve done.

I’m not saying my life has been nothing but a bunch of failures.  There’s a lot that I’m quite proud of -  my boys, my various bands, my dance troupes, my amazing, strong, talented friends and family  -  but like any normal person, there have been disappointments, too.  I have taken each and every one of them very personally.  Especially those failed relationships.

I know everyone in the world probably sits there and wracks their brain, trying to understand why a relationship went wrong.  I’ve spent hours replaying conversations in my head, trying to figure out if it was what I said or didn’t say, or maybe the way I looked or the way I responded.  I’ve made myself crazy trying to decipher at what exact point did I screw everything up.  And it never occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all my fault.

I don’t know why I never thought of that before.  I’ve always just automatically assumed I was the one the screwed everything up.  Well, ok, there was one guy in Texas who was certifiably mentally unstable who smashed a mirror with his hand, then held a knife to his chest, telling me I should just shove it into his heart.  Yeah, I ran like hell from that one!  Pretty sure that wasn’t all me!

So except for the one in Texas, I’ve just always thought I was the one that failed to make a relationship work.  I was the one who couldn’t be flexible or understanding enough or giving enough…..never the other way around.  And of course, there are always plenty of people to tell me, yes, it’s all my fault.  Well, I don’t think that’s the case.  I think the only thing I’ve been guilty of is wanting so badly to be loved and be a part of a couple that I was willing to look past anything bad and just try to make it work.

Ok, maybe I wasn’t the best partner in my relationships, but there was always another person, not just me.  Take the father of my boys.  He’s a great guy, and I think the world of him, but we had no business getting together, let alone getting married!  He’s a small town boy, rather reclusive, low-key  --  in other words, my exact opposite.  But he had a stability I craved, and that was something I wanted for any family I might have.  I can only guess at what he saw in me, but I do know he thought I would change after we got married.  He thought we would move back to a small town and I’d give up the music and the social life.  Sigh. 

Of course, looking back, we can both see the flaws in our grand plans.  He really should have settled down with someone a little less social than myself, and I should have just gone on the road with Queensryche  --  but on the other hand, we wouldn’t have our boys if we hadn’t gotten together.  Anyway, the point is, I wasn’t the only one that made a mistake there.  We both had unrealistic expectations  - - I wasn’t the only one that messed up.

I wish I could have understood that years ago.  And I also wish I knew why I thought it was all my fault for so long.  That’s a lot of pain and guilt to carry around for such a long time.

It's Official....

I don’t know shit about relationships. 

For years, I thought I was pretty sharp about love and relationships and what it took to keep one going.  After all, I had been in a relationship of one sort or another since I was in high school.  But therein lies the problem – I never managed to maintain the same relationship for more than a few years.  I would date a guy, live with a guy, even married a couple, but it would all blow up in my face and I’d either dump him or he’d dump me and I’d me single again – for a couple of months, anyway.  I was never single for more than six months, and my life went that way for over twenty five years.  Until now.

Oh, sure, I’ve dated a few guys, but nothing’s been serious.  Not what you would call a solid relationship.  There were a couple that I thought had become relationships, because, you know, we talked about it and decided that’s what we wanted.  Silly me.  Why on earth should I actually accept someone’s words? 

So here I am, nearly three years single.  I’ve learned a lot, and one of the biggest things I’ve learned is that I don’t actually know anything.  My apologies to those of you younger than myself, but I’m afraid it doesn’t get any easier.  And at this point, I’m even wondering if it’s worth the effort anymore.