Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Regrettable Rites

Better were the days when mastery of seas came not from bargains struck with eldritch creatures... but from the sweat of a man's brow and the strength of his back alone. You all know this to be true! -Hector Barbossa, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End

Ever feel that way? I have. Especially after a spirit burned down my house to get me $4k. Totally not worth a year of recovery for a quick four grand.

But better were the days when I made $10 an hour as a bar/grill kitchen manager? Better were the days when I was an Admin Assistant at a non profit making $12 an hour? Fuck no! Barbossa's off his rocker. Better are the days when I'm making four times that income as a result of my ongoing interactions with the spirits, can I get an AMEN!?

Damn straight I can.*

But that house fire thing wasn't the first time I fucked up in magic. Not the first time bargains struck with eldritch beings came back to bite me in the ass. And I regret every single one of those rites, in a way. Not in a particularly remorseful way, but more in a damn, I wish that rite had worked out as planned kind of way. 

Ok, now that I think about it for a second or two, I don't regret all my failed rites, of course. If all my rites worked... well, let's just say I wouldn't have made nearly as many friends in California over the last few years. And there'd be werewolves stalking the shores of Nevada. If they had survived the meteor apocalypse. So, I mean, the world's probably in better shape because I don't always succeed, even if it is pretty boring to a nineteen year old version of myself.

Who should have been punched in the face at least once.

But I tell you this, my brothers and sisters, I appreciate every rite I've done, failed or successful. Those that failed have taught me something, no matter how cliche. Those that have succeeded even more. The power at our disposal is something that would be truly sobering if we stopped and thought about it for a bit. Something we should not scoff at, nor let slip too far from our awareness. 

See, I'm guilty of that, I forget who I am, and my potential all too easily. There's so much that I could be doing that I'm not. I forget, and I feel bad about it. 

Fortunately, I am a benevolent soul, and I forgive me.

* I think, sometimes, I would make an awesome preacher, except for the foul language.