A weird day of work in my unreality

I worked today.  Just one day.  For the first time in over a year…in fact, it has been so long I can barely remember.  Sometime in 2023.

And though the work was different than what I used to do, in some ways it was refreshingly similar.  What was I doing?  Mediating a shareholder dispute.  

Small private company.  Three founders who can barely speak to each other.  Once they were family, now they can’t stand the sight of one another.

I met one of them before I formally began transitioning.  I was on my way to yoga, dressed all slim and slinky (do you know the expression, “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”?).  It was one of those days.  It is also an expression I have forgotten since Christmas but is coming back slowly.  Getting my beach body ready.

She just started talking to me, and in the strangest way, roped me into their lives.  She asked me what I did for a living, and I told her that I bought and sold businesses.

“We need that,” she said.  That was 2021.  Here we are four years later, and I was paid today to get them to stop hating on each other.  It was harder than herding cats.  Keeping them on track, keeping them from hurting each other and thereby derailing the day.

So often, you wonder, “is my agenda complete bollocks?”  And meetings of this sort require a collective will, collective sense of belief.  And constant reminders.

But then you get there.   I can’t help but think I got them across the line.  They all said so.

One thing I felt was that becoming a dominatrix has bled into my life at large in very positive ways. I was fearless in my conduct of this meeting. One of my core professional skills has long been an ability to read a room, to read people, to read their bodies. This is a skill which has moved up several notches, because it is so important in a play dynamic as a domme…to read the sub is to read the room in a very specific way.

After, I went out for a drink with one of the founders and his family.  His mother confided that it was her son’s birthday and thanked him for being able to say that.  Then she said she was getting emotional, teared up, looked at me, raised a glass, and toasted all the strong bad-ass women, who made the world go round.

And then she came over and stood next to where I was perched on a bar stool, and said, “can I hug you?”

And I said, “yes,” and she leaned in for one of those hugs that is strong, exploratory and lingering.  And then she stepped back and moved in again and kissed me right on the lips and held me there, while her husband and son watched me.  I looked at him, and he said, “one of a kind.”  Her son blushed and looked away.

“Can you feel the energy?” she asked.

“Yes,” not sure if she meant mine or hers.  It was true either way.

“I can see auras,” she said.  “I used to see them everywhere, but now it is harder.”

“I can too.   You just have to practice,” I said, “I can always see them if I look, but I don’t often look, because it opens a bridge to another world.”

“I don’t believe that stuff,” her husband said.

“What colour is Mom’s aura,” the partner asked.

“Green,” I said.

“Yes,” she said, “mostly green, and sometimes blue.”

Each of them had a crystal in their pocket.  Daddy had a polished onyx.  Son had lapis. Mother had amethyst.  We talked about the energy of the stones they carried.

“Tell us about the stones you wear,” she said.

“This one is prehnite,” I said, “it’s the stone of the healer.”

“I thought it was totemite.”

“I don’t know that one, but it is prehnite, a mystical stone that helps a healer practice their art.”  That’s why I wore it that day.

“And the others?”

“This one is moldavite.  It is one of the most powerful transformational stones in existence.  It has chaotic and wild energy.  Very powerful.”

“I don’t know it,” she said.  “It looks almost black.”

“Yes, but when you hold it up to the light, you can see that it is green.”

“And the other two?”

“This one is kunzite, the stone of the Female Buddha.  It is a heart chakra stone, and one unconditional love.  It carries mother energy.”

“And that last one is moonstone.”

“Yes it is.” I said caressing it.  “A stone which bridges from the physical to the spirit world.”

“It’s an interesting combination.”

“I choose what I wear each day based on what I expect to encounter.  What I need to embody my power, to manifest appropriately, and to protect my energy.”

“I’m an aura thief,” she said, and I felt a ripple in the energy.  But then I thought, my energy cannot be stolen.  I am not vulnerable at this time.  I am grounded and strong.  And today I was fully in my power.  I felt it all day long.

And then she told a story.

“When my father died, my sister was in the room.  He had the phone in his hand and died as he reached to hang it up.  Dad, dad, she cried out twice.  I came running from the bathroom, and my husband came up, and she ran down to get the neighbours.  I felt an explosion of energy, like a bomb went off, and we started every form of resuscitation there is, but he was gone.  That energy, though, that’s inside me.  I can still feel it.  That’s what I wanted you to feel.”

In the car later she said, “my religion is energy.”  That was a nice, clean way of saying what my philosophy is too.  “There are two places on earth where I have felt intense energy,” she said, “Scotland and Italy.”

She spoke about the energy in Florence.

“Florence is the second most important city in Italy for witchcraft,” I said.

“I just thought it was the effervescence of the Renaissance.”

“Possibly, but it is a very important centre of witchy energy in Italy.”

“What’s the other one?” her son asked.

“Venice.  Possibly the most important centre of witchery in Europe.”  I am not aware of a place where I feel it stronger than in Venice.  And the history and tradition are there too.

Are your days weird like this?  The co-working space I booked for our day just happened to be in a building that had my dead surname.  I hadn’t known when I booked.  Random that is not random.

It has gotten to a point where if I look at my watch, or at a clock, it is a significant time like 1:11 or 4:44, or just 6:00.  I don’t get normal times anymore.  Everything is a signal.  Symbolic.

In witchcraft, when you learn the “trade” you learn to recognise the symbols around you, to see their significance.  When things come into alignment for me like this, I realise that it is time for me to do, to learn, that something is going to change, to break.

I should be terrified for my future.  I haven’t really worked in five years.  Divorce has left my coffers empty.  But somehow I have faith that the universe is aligning itself for me.  I cannot help but feel that I am poised to land on my feet.  That’s the way it is meant to be.

I know it.  I feel it.

How are you?