- : the way you think and feel about someone or something
- : a feeling or way of thinking that affects a person’s behavior
- : a way of thinking and behaving that people regard as unfriendly, rude, etc.
Personally, I’ve always thought of it as someone’s perspective (which I’ll write about more under “P”), as in someone’s Perspective defines their attitude toward it. Attitude is much in my thoughts these days, as I’m recovering from having a somewhat personal surgery, having suddenly been told I must have a hysterectomy, which I did (and quickly, too). Thankfully, due to some rather odd trick of genetics, I recover ridiculously well from surgery, especially given two auto-immune diseases. So while I’m following my surgeon’s post-op instructions (no lifting more than 10 pounds, take it easy, etc.), I feel a bit like a fraud: lounging around in yoga clothes 1 week post-surgery, with my magnificent in-laws catering to my every need. Seriously. I haven’t taken prescription meds since they filled up my IV with Tramadol before sending me out into the world the morning after surgery. And bless them for it. Other than agreeing to brand new living room furniture (my husband, a witch and Initiate himself is a rather smart man), it was a blessedly simple and painless trip home.
And this, dear readers, is why I’m so damnably behind in these. So apologies for that. I’m sure its understandable why, yes?
May we assign attitude to my quick recovery? The Will, after all, is a witch’s (or occultist, please insert whatever phrase or identity best meets your own magical path here) is a practitioner’s most powerful tool when coupled with their mind. In my opinion and experience, in any case. I like to think, especially as an Aquarian (pesky folks), so! Surely, I am a complete heretic, because I had no particular spiritual allegiance to this troublesome uterus, having had nothing but inconvenience and ineffectiveness, being infertile. So, yes, take it, BEGONE!
What I did not count upon was the dozens of well-meaning pagan women in my circle of friends who immediately jumped upon this wonderful opportunity to throw me a ritual of release. Ah, no. Not necessary. Ritual serves to translate the values of a community, so sayeth the rabbis. This was a singularly useless bit of organ. Why commemorate it’s passage with a release? There is no mourning its passage for me. I told them, politely but firmly “no drama, ladies”. No chanting, no wailing, no drumming and certainly, no renting of garments. Damn thing never worked right after factory install, after all. Rather like a tumor, this diseased organ was sapping my health, dragging me down, keeping me in bed, trying to force me to take narcotic pain killers and any number of horrid things. Give this monster more of my time and energy? Never!
I am at heart a pragmatist. I required my friends and family to respect both my choice in this surgery and my choice in not holding a ritual. My mother, I should mention, agreed with me. Out damn spot, indeed! I should mention quite a few of *her* friends also went on a “lament and wail” routine of “she’s so young, what a shame”, to which my mother responded firmly “this is the best choice for her, its for her health going forward, so she’s thrilled to have this chapter over with, we will all respect that.” I am after all, a chip off a very hard block. The Jewitch block is made of stern stuff, I find.
There are grumbles. I’ve failed them as a friend, as a witch and as a ritualist. They had rituals to do. There was a party not held. Energy not shared. Well wishes not expressed in circle. I invited them to drop by and have a drink. Bring a casserole. Home-baked cookies. Rub my feet. Take a Basset Hound for a walk. Hell, rub my feet if you like. Bring a potted plant, but no flowers, please – the family visiting to do the laundry, dust, otherwise cook and clean are sensitive to them and I must be protective of them. It’s a Hyster-Reunion and praise be to the Gods, a good one! But they demurred. I’ve ruined the moment.
They will recover, as will I. And in time, they may understand that not having ritual is also a valid choice. A knowledgeable one, at that. What we choose to celebrate, commemorate, collaborate over, compare and share, speaks volumes about who we are as ritualists. I did not want any more energy put into that damn thing. I’d put more than enough, after all. This was the fourth surgery I’d had on my reproductive organs, most likely the last. So Mote It Be. No cake and ale for this, damn you, pass the whiskey.
Should you require a hysterectomy, by the way, please do check out HysterSisters, a wonderful website whose articles and forums will guide you from start to finish and long afterward. And should your attitude not match mine (yours is your own and welcome you are to it, whatever it is!), please check them out. http://www.hystersisters.com/
And if you do, please let me know, same ID over there as here. These are the Women’s Mysteries and we need to have the power of shared perspective, as per our comfort level, even when our society has told us these things are verboten (German: forbidden). Let no one put you in a corner and should they try, come out fighting, with a grin on your face!
Attitude is all!