After Solstice this year, I realized something that both excited me and terrified me - that I was a Queen of sorts, and that I had to own that. Fully. I'd played the Summer Queen throughout my life at rituals, festivals and particularly at the Midsummer Night's Dream Solstice Ritual at Bandi Shaum.
(here's me doing the Summer Queen thing)
I'd gotten a reputation for it - which would take me awhile to describe fully - but it gradually came to involve being greeted as a Queen in the most unexpected of places - like at the Occupy Pittsburgh camp in People's Park in Fall of 2011, where many of the Occupiers turned out to be the very same people who participated as members of the fairy courts in the aforementioned Solstice Party and Ritual that I helped to put on.
That cooled down for awhile. I went into a kind of hiding. I had my big ups and downs with my marriage and unmarriage. I didn't feel too queenly in the depths of my despair last winter.
Then the Summer Queen vibe came again into a deep intensity right after the Solstice party this year - I experienced a profound energetic awakening - I danced topless on the Plateau in a tantric ritual for hundreds of people - and I realized that my bodhisattva vow was a tantric one - which means I'm a Mother of Dragon Bodhisattva Heroes and Heroines - and just about everywhere I went people and things manifested around me that met me with the beauty and luxury befitting - well, a Queen.
(yeah, on good days this is what it feels like)
This included happening to make friends with a gifted cello player on the day of the supermoon - a cello player who then accompanied me and my other friends to the highest hill in Pittsburgh, Sugartop in the Hill District - and who magestically and tenderly played her cello to the moon for herself and for us.
My body thrilled to her cello strings and to the deep light of the moon on the rivers and the glory of the city while other friends massaged my bare body with lotion while I lay on a fur rug that we had hefted up the hill.
As this happened, the fact that I was being treated to a spontaneous level of courtly, mystical luxury beyond my wildest dreams was very hard to ignore. It struck me as a deep invitation.
An invitation that terrified me.
Over the past month since the Solstice, it's begun to sunk into me that being a Queen comes with a lot of responsibility.
There's much work to be done, many heroes to be awakened, many layers of shadow and ego in myself to purify.
There's many other monarchs and wizards and witches to contend with and collaborate with.
There's many angry mobs and Pirate Gangs of rogue fire spinners to clash with.
There's many festive anarchic crowds to play with.
There's needs of the people to be met - needs for permaculture gardens and food, needs for clean water, needs for joy and celebration - and needs to have a Queen to serve or plot against or utterly worship or try to burn at a stake or whatever the fuck they most want.
(Bitches be all like "the Summer Queen ain't tough" and I be all like, "Stand back, bitches!")
Basically, I've realized that I've been called to be a mythic container for a cultural renaissance.
And I'm willing. I'm willing. I'm here. I will do it.