My parents came to visit this past nine days. And while they were here, I couldn’t go down into the basement to my temple. My mom, you see, completely disagrees with my religion and requires every spare moment of my attention when she’s in town.
I don’t hear my lady much in the summer time. I’m not sure why.
But while my parents were here, autumn descended suddenly upon Philadelphia. The past two days, the magic has been tangible in the air, that cooling down, the turning inward, the sparkling darkness of autumn. And I haven’t been able to connect because I couldn’t go into my temple because my parents are in town.
There is an insanity to Freyja. A crazy going after what she wants that leads her to leave everything behind and search the nine worlds for her passion, all the while crying unendingly golden tears of the joy and sorrow that her passion has brought her.
I knew that insanity this week. I missed her, and I wanted to seek her. I was trapped without her, and the joy and sorrow of my own passion left me kind of insane.
This week was also the Philly Fringe Festival, during which I had two shows. Everyone in my family hated the first, and loved the second. Just before the opening of the second show, the choreographer wrote the most wonderfully complimentary things about my dancing, and I was so happy. But before the end of the night I was sobbing because it wasn’t enough–I didn’t have a solo, I wasn’t thanked for being the only dancer to come to all the rehearsals. The show went well, I felt elated. But then I found out the choreographer is about to move to Europe, and I crashed again.
My parents went home today, and I went back to my temple and found my lady. I went to the park and relished the chilling air and the long sleeve shirts and the changing leaves and that intangible autumn-ness of Fall.
As soon as I went into my temple, everything made sense again. I have control of my emotions again. Thanks to Freyja.