Ask the Priestess

There are many signs spring is on its way: longer days, warmer temperatures, blooming flowers and green leaves popping up on trees.  But nothing beats leaving work on an afternoon and seeing boats upon boats of relaxed Dutchies in sunglasses, shirtsleeves, and smiles along canals and rivers alike.  More often than not, there will be drinks involved:  Wine is for the more elegant boats, those whose wood is polished, whose metals are burnished. Usually, there will be expats who're either in the process of, or have already completed, immersing themselves in the social traditions. Wine is also for the gastrotours, organised to bolster company identity, to promote staff gatherings. Every sip is an attempt at closeness, at letting guards down. Beer, on the other hand, is for the scruffier vessels, owned by generations who've been in the city since before it became cool and desirable. They now hold between 5 and 6 people, often young men, raucous but not poisonous, not a jacket ...

Oh, yes, the dream of the tropical paradise, who hasn't heard of it? Basically, it's the same as the kitschy Xmas film, or the documentaries on the lifestyles of the rich and famous in Hollywood: it's eternal playtime, people have time to meet and greet, life's easy. I live in a hot climate, and can get to a beach in about 40 minutes by public transport. The rain is measured in mm/year, and palm trees are native to the area. It's a 1st World country, so I have all mod-cons. Basically, it's quite close to the basic requirements of the dream. So, do I live in paradise? Well, no, I do not. For one thing, I don't like the heat and miss the seasons. Also, being fair-skinned, I cannot really go to the beach too often, at least not during sunlight time. Additionally, I have a job! Which, I agree, is wonderful in that I'm done at 4 pm, thus I have a lot of free time every day; but, still, it's not like I am on holidays every day. Plus, yes, there are ...

Last week, it was my birthday, but I was away for a week, so when I came back to work today, I got all the best wishes. I thanked my coworkers, then went on with my life. I don't really get why people celebrate birthdays. Actually, I do, but only for people who've had a life-threatening scare or are fighting a life condition, which they have overcome (maybe just for now, but a day at a time). In these cases, the people have sort of 'earned' the understanding of what an amazing achievement completing another solar year really means. For the rest of us, who simply live by inertia, unconsciously grateful for modern medicine and a comfortable environment, it has no real meaning. So, why was I away last week, if not to celebrate my birthday? To celebrate life. In a few days, it will be my mother's 7th death anniversary, and my sister and I decided it was time to let her last remains go free, as she loved being. We decided to release her ashes, close that cycle. Mor...

This 12th October, 2016 is a fabulous parallel to the conflicts I find within my identity. On the one hand, today is  Yom Kippur - Day of Atonement. Observant Jews, and many secular ones as well, have been fasting since yesterday afternoon. It is 26 hours of no food, drink (even water), smoking, driving, fun... It is the time to reconsider the last year, become aware of one's mistakes and wherever we may have injured others; a time of honest soul-searching whilst hoping that God will consider us worthy of being in the book of life for another year. Here, in Israel, the country is at a standstill - there are no cars on the roads, no radio or television broadcasts, no open businesses, no music, no groups of people sharing a fag. Not only are many people fasting, but the whole nation is remembering also the beginning of the Yom Kippur War , a conflict that was both psychologically and politically decisive for the country and the world at large. In Spain, where I was born and ra...

They say that we are mostly made up of water: drop, drop, drop,... pond, lake, river, ocean. We, humans, are made up of water. What does it mean, to be made up of water? Would it really matter, if we were mostly air? Would we then believe more in spirits and sprites, see faeries and not call ourselves mad? What if we were made up of granite, would that make us titans but not humans?  We seem intent in making sure that we can be identified with something beyond ourselves, something larger, something unafraid. Water is, indeed, 3/4 of Earth's surface, and where air and fire can be tamed, water on the move is unstoppable. I wonder whether that is the main reason we want to define our components, and feel comfort in repeating it: we are mostly made up of water.  Water, the element identified with emotion, under the auspices of the moon; temperamental, crystalline, salty, sweet, life giving. We are water, thus more than a drop - we are gases but not air, minerals but not...

There are many places we live in, work in, have fun in, suffer in. There are cities, villages, fields, seas. What I have realised recently, though, is that within those places, there are also spaces. And it is those spaces that hold the real meaning of our memories and reactions. It is the spaces, not the places, that matter. For example, I live in London (UK). Now, London is a huge city and, more importantly, the only one of its kind I like (at least, of all those I have visited or live in). It is full of different nationalities, flavours, architecture, culture... and also of racial disagreements, bad housing, lack of manners, dirty streets. Yet, when I say I like or love London, depending on the mood, I mostly relate to specific spaces of London. So, what do I love about London? The South Bank on a stroll, the lower floor of the Royal Festival Hall where you can see people practise dance, the museums on a school day, the Candid Arts Café and Kenwood House for a cup of tea,...

We learn that to love is to hold. Thinking about it simply, I would agree. After all, hugs are a favourite of mine: hugging, cuddling, snuggling... You can feel the tenderness, the warmth, the joy of them in their very shapes - all requiring a double consonant, like a hug needs two of us. The beauty of an embrace is as mystical as well known, for it can save a life (as it does premature children - see link below), heal our souls as well as our bodies (another link), and enables us to express the greatest depths of love when words fail us - a parent holding its child, friends reuniting, supporting the bereaved or celebrating victory, all are inextricably linked to the wealth of love of the hug (no, no web link - unless you choose to send one in a comment.) But then, hold, now that can be a bit trickier. You can be held captive, or enthralled; hostage, or in amazement; in contempt or in the highest regard. So, which hold is love? Hold has, sadly, a connotation of strength, of ...