The Wild Hunt (https://wildhunt.org/author/clio)
Clio Ajana is a death midwife, lover of tarot, numerology, and astrology. A current practitioner of Baltic Heathenry and Hellenic Alexandrian Witchcraft & Spiritual Tradition, she is a member of the House of Our Lady of Celestial Fire, E.O.C.T.O. Her writings include contributions to the anthologies - Shades of Faith: Minority Voices in Paganism (2011) and Bringing Race to the Table: Exploring Racism in the Pagan Community (2015). A frequent presenter at Paganicon (https://tcpaganpride.org/) and Mystic South (https://mystic-south.com, she considers everything in her life to be touched by and guided by the Gods.
How many speak, work, argue, and have the courage to live fully here because of the promises given in the Constitution? The answer is many. However, we forget that for all of that freedom there is a grim reality: what has been taken for granted can be so easily taken away. The erosion of our freedoms has begun.
Although my trip companions think that the driving in Delhi, Dharamsala, and Agra is horrible, and that I’m crazy for even considering driving here, my heart salivates over the opportunity. I think of you and wonder whether you’d be up to renting scooters in Dharamsala or Delhi and taking a turn or two.
I recall celebrating my first Star Wars marathon in a small Parisian theater filled with strangers willing to give up a Friday night. Some arrived in costume, others brought blankets for young children, and a few had enjoyed an early dinner. From 7:30 in the evening until dawn, our group cheered, laughed, and honored the strongest moments with silence.
I grew up down the street from the Key Bridge. Looking back, I had taken the time to drive across the bridge on my last few trips home. I took for granted that it would be there. It had been for nearly 50 years, and it should have been there for at least 50 more.
When disasters come from all sides, where can we turn? Where do we direct our best efforts, and where can we find solace? At a time when questions are many, when words can no longer contain my shock and disbelief at events once believed impossible, I think of my father’s advice from years ago: T-R-Y.