Significantly Significant

the thinking Man...

I tend to be attracted to an older man. When I say older, I mean significantly older, as in, fifteen to twenty years my senior. Its not unheard of or even discouraged in, what is soon to be 2019. After all, we have examples of more extreme relationships like the impersonal and money driven marriage of Anna Nicole Smith and the like. As long as we aren’t speaking of an age gap that can’t be bridged with Youtube, its safe to say these sorts of relationships are within reach of any young man or woman with the maturity level to “hold their own” as it were. For those who haven’t ventured that far romantically, the most natural facture to a 28 year old woman, like myself, being in love with a man old enough to be her father is the fact that the average individual looks for the parent of the opposite sex in their mate.  Men look for the care and attention of their mothers and women, that of their fathers, and their personal experience with each determines how their romantic pursuits manifest. An older man has lived longer, experiencing more, has learned more, should have more and can be more of a physical, financial and spiritual resource to yourSelf or any child(ren) you may have than to consistently battle with a younger “man” who is still on his mother’s teet.

Now, before anyone’s mother gets her panties all in a bunch. I am not referring to a man having an intimate relationship with his mother. She carried him, bore him, fed him and raised him. I’m referring to a younger "man"'s  need for parenting, for rearing, child rearing. It’s a commonly known and accepted social tenet that boys mature slower than girls do. As a woman who makes an intentional effort to have a variety in the classes of men she dates, character, occupation and age, I know that you can’t expect a man to be a Man until he hits at least 40, no if, ands or buts about it. Even then, you have to take into consideration how well he plays the cards he’s dealt himSelf, otherwise he’s no use to you as a mature, yet still, younger woman. But the true identity of the dealer is a story for another time. 

Though my personal, experiential and intuitive experience has led me to the conclusion that a significantly older man is in fact what a woman like myself needs, gnosis could not prepare me for the inevitable struggle of the culture shock. As a preface, this explanation of said struggle isn’t to discourage or deter but to shed light on a familial issue that is prevalent but rarely discussed. When you are dealing with a Man who is approaching, met or passed The Hill, you are faced with the reality that the women he was raised by or with require much more than what does the Millennial woman. To be frank without the intention to be harsh, women of his age bracket were proud to just have a man by her side or at least in her home. Her gratitude, in turn, warranted that she endure what is seen today as negligence. When he opens himSelf up to having a legitimate relationship, not just a hot fling with a pretty young thing, he finds that not more is required but rather the polar opposite of which he has grown accustomed. Millennial Women are not only capable of but actually look forward to thinking for herSelf and wisely, providing for herself and well and is free enough to get herself off with a toy or two on the regular basis. So Men of a particular age are now faced with the question of what can you provide for Me other than an order, a dollar and a decent stroke?

The answer is you have to think about it and that’s okay because you are old enough to do so and come to the appropriate conclusion without asking your mother.

As so above, so below,

The Huntress

Do You Love Me?

He sat there and pondered my nonchalance to my own affirmative answer. Do I love you? Do I love you? Boy or Man, I dont know as to which to refer to you, but you knew the answer to the question before you asked. You've watched me, begrudgingly listened to me and secretly admired me. You know of my focus and my direction and you are more than aware of where I stand. Yet, you bother to waste additional precious energy on a gratuitous question. Do I love you? Since I became aware of you, I haven't loved another. Do I love you? Yes.

Now, once again, I have belittled  myself and my well earned self-esteem to stroke the ego of yet another man who doesn't have it in him to love me in return or to put forth the effort to show it if he does. Yet you wonder why I AM willing to look elsewhere. You won't be able to blame me for your void once I AM in His arms and loving care. In case you haven't noticed, dear Boy or Man, I AM alive. I breathe, so I need air. I grow, so I need Sun. I thirst, so I need water. You demand my beauty, natural or perferably otherwise but refuse to nurture the life that I AM. The question is, Do you love me? Don't wait until I redirect my vision to answer. Do you love me? Don't wait to see me cared for by someone else my age but perferably otherwise, to be the Others who also regret leaving. You have my attention, for now. For what it's worth, you have my time. But much like the tests and trials we undergo in life, time runs out.

I AM a Particular kind of woman. I require a Particular level of attention and affection from a Particular kind of Man. Figure how I should refer to you before I decide for you. How old are You? Why haven't you decided? And why are you hiding? If you don't love me, say it to me and stop lying to people and sneaking kisses and sweet nothings and wishing me pleasant dreams. If you do, then make a move before someone else does what you won't. Do you love me?

As so above, so below,

The Huntress

I AM Lyssa

| CXCVIII | 33,827 | IV

I want my child.

I want my Alyssa.

I want my child to know the power in her voice, in her laughter, in her desires, in her thoughts.

I want my child to look in the mirror and love her beautiful chocolate skin.

I want my daughter to know that boys are mean but trust and believe that girls are much meaner.

I want my baby to believe in magick, to know that She is magick, because said Disney We are!

I want my daughter to know what True Love is and it does not come from covering Her head, that restrictive path of death is Sin.

I want my daughter to know She is her Mother and her Mother is She.

I want and need My Alyssa to know that there is no Jehovah. She is God, She can do Anything, She is Everywhere and She knows Everything; so the word of the law Thelema.

I want her to fall in love with Herself first and only then will she be able to find the Love of the Man she truly deserves. He is not her Head nor is She is. They are One, they are none, they are perfect.

I want my child to exceed the accomplishments of her mother.

I want my child to drive and Hunt and reign, as her very blood compels her to do. Growl at the boys My Baby.

I want my child to feel the warmth of the Sun and realize her potential.

I want her to see the glow of the Moon and love her gentleness.

Dear baby, You are thy Master, not He, not even Me.

I want my child to know She is accompanied by the tens of thousands, the hundreds of thousands of Us who walked before her, who now walk beside her, Our Ancestors. You are a Descendant.

I need my baby to know her Mommy feels the pain of distance and separation.

I miss my child.

I need Alyssa to remember My Love and when She misses Mommy the most, to close her eyes and to call my name and Lula will make sure I answer.

I need my child to know that not a single soul on this planet or the next means more to me than she does.

Your Mommy sang to you, your Mommy dreamed and hoped and planned for you and still does.

I cried the very millisecond I saw you, Little One, and I cry as I type and long for you. Your Mother can not lie.

Remember who You are, My Daughter.

“Beauty and strength, leaping laughter, delicious languor (faith in Us), force and fire are of us.”

As so above baby, so below,

Your Mommy

She loved and she wrote. She wrote some more and she loved to write.

When You Peel the Onion

| CXCVI | 33,371 | II

                       

 "The Universe is the Practical Joke of the Fettered at the Expense of the Free”

F.P. laughed as he described the sorrowful reality that the majority of people prefer to wear chains, obey orders and move in fearful droves. Much like adolescent high school students, We free men and women are ridiculed for our distinct differences. We walk, speak and view ourselves and our abilities with a confidence that is as rare as our very existence. When those of Us who are born with the heroic wherewithal to know that the most unlikely means produce the best results, We are treated with a lack of respect. They scoff, spit, wanting to scrimmage, so sorrowful. He further explains their tiers.

“Those nearest to him wept, seeing… Sorrow. Those next to them laughed…”

Employing laws of power, Master Therion kept the hypersensitive closest to himself. There are those of us who can not help but to pity the fate of the fettered. It is a shame. Then those who are of the constitution to find humor in this reality most likely laugh at the weeping as well. The rankings continue down to those who were blind to the reason for either response but felt blessed enough to be present. Wisely, they laughed when He did. May we all be conscious enough to distinguish the Self from the Not.

“… in Himself He neither laughed nor wept.”

Who sorroweth are not of us. Beauty and strength… force and fire, are of us. (2:20)

As so above, so below,

The Huntress

She loved and she wrote. She wrote some more and she loved to write.

The Fallacy of Fucking Freely as it Correlates to Self-Esteem

| CXCIII | 

I swear with all my cosmic power, I AM not sleeping with my “husband” any longer. Why? Well, since I’ve elevated my consciousness and realized that I AM God, I also realized that he will not have such an awakening during this particular journey. Perhaps what energy he gets from me will manifest in a heightened existence for his reincarnated return. As for where we are now, in this place in which we perceive as time, his touch and kiss give me the sense of perverted violation. I feel as if giving him my temple for pleasure, completely refusing the option of procreation, would be the quickest means of tainting the pure energy I’ve spent the last eighteen months creating and manipulating. As a Scorpio, sex magick is the most powerful and natural for me. After all, we are the most powerful of the entire zodiac. So non-natives can only imagine how sensitive a self-realized and actualized God might feel laying with someone who is intentionally hateful, condescending, selfish and vehemently opposed to scientific illumination. As a result, the Universe has forced me to find my equal, becauscha sexual chemical marriage is never a matter to be taken lightly. I have resolved for the first time in my life to remain celibate until I encounter my complimentary practitioner of the magickal arts. Now, if my resolution comes off as pretentious and/or unwarranted, attempt to view it on the basis of Universal Law.

Deepak Chopra teaches that our bodies are a physical manifestation of our conscience’s sentiment. Everything, from how we look to how we feel, has a metaphysical source. Every action we take has an equal and opposite physical and metaphysical reaction. It is all a direct depiction of what we are manifesting. The same is especially true when we feel and act upon sexual excitement. Our bodies yearn to connect and create. As if that were not enough, being the dynamically spiritual vessels that we are, we attract, carry and travel with entities that most can not see. The nature of these entities and their direct affect on our lives is contingent upon our frequency or our emotions, and our train of thought. Needless to say, they are very much present when any sexual ritual, casual or formal, takes place. These entities not only mate with and through the vessels, they mate with one another. I speak from experience. During masturbation, when I intentionally channel particular hypersexual energies that leave me with an altered persona, my chakras wide open and my very being plunged in ecstasy, I find myself subject to scratches. Now, regardless of how enticing that may or may not sound, knowing my predicament, I should be doing a spiritual cleansing or spiritual bath before and perhaps even after I engage in sexual rituals, solitary or accompanied. But because I AM experienced in working with spirit and AM particularly intrigued in exploring the happenings, I have not begun conjuring or testing a remedy. Though, I will be sure to do so in the near future, as I hope to find the choice counterpart and will be sure to aid in their protection, if they so wish. When I complete the task, I will be sure to update the blog. Perhaps, I will discuss how the channeling is accomplished, but all to come in a later publication. I digress.

As a responsible occultist who has had her fair share of sexual liberation, understanding these esoteric truths gives me reasonable doubt when considering partnered sex of any nature. Any one looking to manage the energy in their space must first ask: Who is this person? What energy could their day to day activities, that remain mysterious during our casual encounters, bring to my body or to my mind? What emotional turmoil are they privately suffering with that could disrupt my hard-earned balance? Orgasm aside, how is their very presence, their conversation and even their thoughts about me affecting me? Yes, how someone views you and especially how they speak of you casts a spell on you as well. You can have the most intrinsically existential sex ever with the perfect noncommittal arrangement, part ways and how that person speaks of you will work on you much longer than will the orgasm they gave you. If this person does not respect your being and your body, then the energy that seeps from them can only be harmful. It is best for your long term happiness to highly scrutinize to whom you reveal your glory and bestow your blessing. Now, Men may feel that this doesn’t apply to them due to them not having a vagina. Oh, that’s only a chick thing. Well, due to you being void of a physical opening, you in turn struggle to open metaphysically. Those of a male manifestation who have had the benefit of opening to the Universe and tuning into their hidden feminine frequency and therefore have aggressively invested in their own power and blessings, you relate to the tenet and we can move forward.

Have you ever witnessed a socially adept individual whose sexual and material lifestyle spurs envy, eventually become depressed and even suicidal? Yet, the lone wolf “weirdo” who takes pleasures in the abstract, the spiritual, tends to hold a slice of ethereal bliss that the previous could never hope to obtain, while also being better lovers. Be not animal; refine thy rapture

I write this exposition from a place of pain. I have the worst memories of literally not being able to think straight because of what I allowed to take place on and inside of me from men who wished me misery. Negative energy, demons, jins, devils, all plant seeds of or give birth to emotional instability and disease. Nights of sitting alone in the middle of the living room floor screaming in hysteria still haunt me from the control I surrendered to the ill willed. Countless times of making countless phone calls ignoring the signs of my “relationships” energetic imbalance still embarrass me. Mind you, the sex was horrible most of the time, either too short and/or too quick and definitely uncreative. But I opened my heart and my mind to being with someone who never had any intention of seeing me happy with him or her. Instead, I was a receptacle for their low self-esteem. But when I found my ancestors and their presence made physical manifestation in my life, I was given the opportunity to elevate my consciousness and wake up to my state and to that of those the world over. As a freed woman, I chose to cherish what I have consciously crafted as my body and embrace the destiny I chose by being born on November 21^st, The Cusp of Revolution.

As so above, so below,

The Huntress

The Verdict of the Female Child

| CLXXXVI |

Occultists and metaphysicists alike debate our current place in the cosmic stream of time. One significant telltale is the unbridled lack of gratitude of Man. Like all beings, they crave and require love, beknown to them or not, and will do the most desperate and depraved of things to obtain it. After all, when they pillage they rape. Be them Black, White, Hispanic or Asian, there is an Age-old complex that they are worth more and capable of more than what they truly are. Their mothers, sisters, daughters, but especially their wives, Originators of Life itself, are casted as receptacles for their mismanaged emotional dilemma. Despite desperate attempts to heal and assist their male counterparts, Woman yields no result when desperately battling undeveloped interpersonal skills. Even when Man is of the highest of intellect and success, productive conversation is sacrificed for shouting fits of anger; spawning physical altercation, verbal abuse and when the opportunity presents itself, their established neglect turns abandonment. Their pack raised tenet that fear equates to respect manifests as disregard for their feminine Source. They raise their sons and their friends to believe that if the entity does not possess a penis its thoughts are worthless, if it has them at all. The mind of Woman is frozen and helpless in the provincial outlook of their male “superiors”. Man has spiritually surrendered to nothing, mastering only chronic masturbation. The danger being, when Self is your sole focal point, You deny Yourself the privilege and the responsibility of identifying with your evolutionary equal.

Unfortunately, though, when Woman makes a philosophical contribution to the conversation, if She is even perceived as present, He succumbs to instant bewilderment. “It spoke and it made a point far too logical for my manual stroke to soothe. What ever shall I do as the dominant figure the current Aeon? I know, hit it.”, with all ambiguity implied. The very presence of this unbalanced view in society is the very proof that the cosmic slate as yet to be wiped clean. Yet, how are we, as She, incapable?

When Swastikas were stitched, heads of households and even their regents sent overseas, the powers that be forced Woman to withdraw Her open hand and provide for both Herself and Her children. Upon return, though, He found the current ever changed. With gained self-esteem and a lessened need for monetary provision, Woman packaged respect along with Her criterium for love and companionship. A lack of such, is indicative of the measure of the particular entity. Thus, choose wisely.

Decades fast forwarded, Man remains unprepared to do more than what is no longer required by the Mother, two thirds of the Universal equation. Coupled with their general lack of desire to evolve passed what their forefathers deemed the norm, men now retaliate with heightened aggression. In order to accommodate the primordial and therefore merited egotisms, both sexes must relinquish the demand for indentured emotional slavery in exchange for metaphysical generosity. Seeing Self and serving that Self in the other person protects and preserves the ever so sensitive ego that would otherwise be catastrophically destructive.

As so above, so below,

The Huntress

Cum Stained Comforters

| CLXV |

When we first met, his King-sized Serta was the amenity that sealed the deal. It was the “best sleep I’ve ever had”. It was a Stark contrast to the twin sized mattress I had been reduced to sharing with my five year old at my mother’s house, which, most of the time resulted in me making even less desirable accommodations on the floor with a solitary pillow, no blanket. He was my hero, of sorts, no cape, just a King-sized Serta and cable. For once, I was on clouds, instead of buried alone under cum stained comforters that I couldn’t afford to wash, my Savior with a Serta. Now, after eight months of corny courtship and one year of less than mediocre marriage, our mattress is lumpy and uneven and he doesn’t make enough to replace it. Needless to say, this has a bearing on my firm yet somehow fluffy fairytale of matrimonial bliss. What’s a girl to do when her standards of comfort have out grown her husband’s pockets? What’s the purpose of Serta sentimentality when my back remains unblown, the toilet runs incessantly, the window units are insufficient, and my hair and nails are undone for the twelfth consecutive month? I find myself flashing a food stamp card instead of my dust of diamond ring. But I don’t know which inhibits me more, the card that says that I, married at 27, can’t afford to feed myself or the fact that my marriage is symbolized by a ring that was too cheap to pawn to pay the bills. He spent two grand to stroke Kay’s jeweler. Every kiss since started bitterly, so I stopped wearing the sucker.  I didn’t marry a man 17 years my senior to go without. But, was he ever truly my provider? I mean, when we met I made twice as much at my job than he did at his two. Now that I’ve been encumbered with unemployment, what was once mistaken for shining armor is now dull and his white horse, a mangy mule. I wish my memory served me better. Was my money his extra or vice versa? I don’t know. I just wish my hair and nails were done. 

As so above, so below,

The Huntress

The Black Magician

| CLXV |

Magick has turned me into an asshole. I know it is considered unevolved to indulge in profanity but what other term better embodies the callus of having to view the man who was once donned “My Pharaoh” as an ATM and the child who was once the only reason for my heartbeat as a distraction? The fervent search for my purpose of incarnating and the subsequent will to carry it out has, indeed, turned me into a selfish, self-realized and actualized asshole. Am I saying that I no longer love my husband or need my child? Not entirely or, maybe, I AM.

I have agape for the one who holds the paper purporting my soul’s possession, in terms of wishing him his claim to the same path I AM on, if it were in his reach. The truth is, it simply isn’t. How can anyone, male or female, black, white or otherwise, be magickally invested in someone who doesn’t see your divinity and despite your best effort, refuses to see their own? I can not and will not exhaust my precious energy creating more monotony than with what the Universe has provided me. While I run the maze of life, I resolve to leave him on the hamster wheel that brings him such comfort and familiarity. I have deemed it impossible to remain soft while the Universe tries me intellectually. For I know myself to be the loftiest of its chosen children .

It took great effort and attention to universal patterns to realize that his current place in my life serves as a means to an end. I’d be denying myself what is solely mine if I ignored this reality and took pity on him or misprioritized aged sentimentality for our dead marriage. The undocumented vows we exchanged are simply irrelevant to my vision for my life at this point.

I AM this consciousness, called Lauren Hunter, in this vessel, in this place in “time”, just once. In my Godly estimation, who is he to dictate how my Earthly existence is to be experienced? Now, it would be a horrible mistruth if I said that this choice perspective didn’t develop until I began chasing magick. I began the work of letting us go long before receiving third party confirmation from beyond that it was bound to eventually end. After an overt supernatural sign, I along with my ancestors, the powers and hundreds of lwa in my corner, divorced him culturally when he showed us all that he did not and will not worship me as I deserve;  as I once worshipped him. When my Caribbean roots required that I connect with those of my European, the decision to divorce was finalized. But we would not do so until he served his apparent reason for incarnating, to see me through. And through I will make it. In the meantime, I shower him with all the "Yes Daddy"s and "Please Daddy"s in order to receive my tithes. Aren’t I such a benevolent God? Who is there to frown on my working of wickedness? Not a soul. I AM.

Now, in regards to my child, my first and only, my cutting the umbilical cord serves the same purpose as does milking my “husbandly owner”. Long before my European bloodline evidenced less recessive, my daughter found better financial and, somewhat, emotional support in the care of my parents. Until recently, I always had employment but income that only took care of the essentials. I previously suffered from clairsentience only, but as of recent, have been propelled into the realms of both clairvoyance and cognizance. At times it leaves me disconnected and even depressed. Once I determined my path though, the Universe validated my eternally wise decision to simply let them have her until she comes of age. Let it be known that I AM far too spiritually aggressive. and connected to go without working on her and securing our celestial bond and inevitable future. SHE IS her mother and I AM my daughter.

As so above, so below,

The Huntress