The Silver Chain and the Crossroads

When I was a little girl, I had trouble determining the flow of power between the haves and have nots. I felt entitled to my wants, to my needs, though it may have well been at the detriment of businesses or relationships. My pocket was lined with things that didn’t belong to me. I felt powerful and empty. In trying to overcome the Us versus Them didactic, I found myself able to determine my values, and completely be, in spite of it all.

A bracelet I have been wearing since a job very early on in my life was completely purchased without coins, but with currency. I sacrificed my morality for one silver chain and carried it around me. I intended to subvert the system of Us versus Them, but instead found myself consumed by it while also being being blind to that fact. I lugged this subconscious reminder around with me. “Not good enough,” it whispered. I listened, but didn’t hear it speak quite yet. A number of other synchronicities would be required to move past the idea that I was good enough while also allowing myself to actually believe the opposite; I had ground myself down with subconscious ruminations.
Balance was rescinded from my existence. Strange things have been happening the entirety of my life, but recently, my bracelets and necklaces have started coming undone. Not at the clasp, or broken, but, in fact, separated from links with no breaks or injury to the jewelry. I begin to remember. Enter stage right, the goddess Hecate. Meeting me at the crossroads of my wants and my values: Who am I?

I would like to say that, when the jewelry started removing itself and breaking itself without breaking, I immediately went back to my values and considered the weight of my actions. This, however, was not the case; it took repeated reminders. Repeated destruction of pieces of jewelry–or becoming unclasped, impossibly, and temporarily lost–to force the memory to the forefront of my experience. I had stolen this. I sold my soul for a single line of silver. Immediately on the understanding of what had transpired, I found myself before Hecate, breaking my chains and forcing me to choose: Burn my brilliance or be burned up. One or the other. The dialectic is choice, not the path of least resistance. My wise mind declared that it was imperative to move in an angle that was aligned with my belief systems instead of aligned with the weight of my pocket.

Today I can say I love myself and all my parts. I am proud to be present and part of this. I will worship what I have and not what I should. I am a part of the infinite. Thank you for witnessing this.