Why the feminine.

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I have been being plagued by the feminine.  Oh, not a terrible thing, really.  I've certainly been plagued by more terrible things.  Still, I had to ask myself why.  I have been considering the problem for a while now.

No, witches have no power here.  Save any allowances I might grant.  Granted as sisters, mothers, daughters, not as dark practitioners.  I can shut down darkness easily, and do.  I think even they know it.  Not a grace, the price of... being... a certain sort.

No, it isn't the feeble curses cast, or wished.  So... what caused me to see, delve, touch, know, remember, and such, the feminine?

I realized, last night, sometime after going to bed, the problem?  Solution?  Something.  While sleeping, my mind spoke.  Some form of my ears perked up, heard.  My mind understood.

Death.

Not... that I was dying, or dead, or even will be, or was recently.  Just that... for a while now, I have been a bit over that edge.  Not... to the full far side of that river, but certainly  to standing on the far side, if yet in the waters of life... and death.  I have been so ill, that death is closer than life.

I won't get there, I don't think.  But I will be more dead than alive for a while.  That's why I couldn't get in to get my tags, or get shopping to the store, or manage business problems, or other problems, at least not without a lot of help.  And I was stubborn, trying to do it myself for weeks, months really.  Failing.

So, what does the feminine have to do with death?  Well... when I near death, and when many others near death, we seek... something.  A face, or sexed  person, or familiarity, or dissimilarity... or some combination of those things.  We seek help to either... finish, and go.  Or finish, and come back... stay.

For me, that grouping of things is usually in the form of the feminine.

So, as I lay dying, I reach out for the feminine.  I seek it's assistance, or comforts, or even just sympathy, perhaps empathy.  But, too, in the confusion, I... merge with it.  Enjoyed, as a man to a wife.  A connection that none really understands, many don't even believe, but those who know cherish.

So... it is with myself and death.  At least it makes sense, now.

Oh, no worries.  I have... generations to yet survive through?  I suspect.  I mean, they may kill me, or try.  At this point, they want us dead.  The low hanging fruit among us are priority targets.  Though, really, none is safe.  However, without being murdered somehow, I have... a lot of time.  If too?  I suspect those who have tried to murder me... are either coming to faith, or losing what dark faith they possessed.  Their methods have not worked.  And, yes, they... have been trying to get it done for... some while now.

Remember, violence is organized, now.  They work together, in groups, even subgroups, toward their dark ends.  They work together, in various groups, and even groups being combined.  Evil is pretty strong these days, more than ever before.  Tech, they thought, would grant them their will.  They... always forget God.  God... doesn't forget them, or His own will.

So... yeah.  Now I get it.  I've gone from the three yard line to the one yard line?  Maybe this is the end, if I have some doubts.  I do suffer for it.  And, yet, there is... her.  Such a... lovely old friend.  A daughter as Hel, an uncle as the angel of death, a brother as a rider in the apocalypse?  But, for the moment, a generous woman type, almost lover... or... more.

I love... the way she flirts.

How that... soothes me.

How well it hurts.

Good to have that sorted.