Greetings Good Listeners.
This is the transcript for our latest podcast episode, season 2 episode 4 of the Ancestors Writers Room, and it’s called “I KNOW HER: The Wolf Who Stopped Time.”
This is a special super-sized episode that was originally published on Shaunga’s 40th Birthday, June 13th! You can LISTEN TO THE EPISODE HERE.
Transcript:
In January 2023, the week that Estha died, the articles came out. Scientists have discovered the Earth’s Core has stopped spinning. Every 7 decades or so this will happen, like clockwork. This time, the Earth’s core, relatively the size of Pluto, stopped spinning sometime around 2008, the year that Pluto first entered Capricorn. Now, 15 years later, as Pluto prepares to leave Capricorn…sure enough our Earth’s Core is creaking and cranking back into motion. Fumbling awkwardly toward ecstasy. Remembering how to move again.
Only this time it’s spinning in the reverse direction. That’s like learning to walk with new feet. Or learning to roll with new punches. It’s like you’re supposed to know what you’re doing, but you don’t.
What causes such a phenomenon? They’ll tell you about magnetic gravitational forces that drive the Core’s rotation. But I’m a Multiverse Historian, I see things a little differently. I’m going to tell you about the Wolf Who Stopped Time.
[background music: “So Others May Live”]
Greetings Good Listeners. I’m your host, storyteller and spellweaver, Shaunga Tagore. You are tuning into my Divination Channel. Welcome to Otherworldly Giants. This is season 2 in the Ancestors Writers Room, episide 4 and it’s called, “I know her.”
This is Magical Reality TV for the Revolution. A True-Life Multiverse Podcast Drama about a queer witch and her two black cats and her future partner and her invisible friends. And, what’s a Dream? What’s a Lie? I think I’ll let you decide.
[music fades out // sounds of water fade in]
Today my Ancestors Writers Room wanted to tell you a story about the Wicked Witches of the Emerald City! Well, the Emerald Mountains, to be exact. Like most stories, there’s a Wicked Witch of the West, North, East, and South. They have different names in different timelines.
Sometimes they’re called Elphaba, Glinda, Nessa Rose and…well, the Witch of the South doesn’t have a name…at least, none that I like thus far. In other timelines they’re a scooby gang: a Watcher, a Slayer, a Witch, and a Human. In every timeline they are Healers, Revolutionaries, and most importantly, Artists. They’re Doctors.
Today in the Ancestors Writers Room, there’s just two of them. Split into Four. Pluto and Jupiter. If you know me, you know that I’ve written a play about Pluto and Jupiter as Otherworldly Giants and ordinary humans. Time Travellers, Shape Shifters, Death and Faith.
Sometimes they’re mother and daughter. Sometimes they’re broody dorky teenage besties. Sometimes they’re two young queer community organizers in the middle of a messy break-up between one another and the wrong bridges get burned and no community accountability process can save them. Sometimes Pluto is an ancient giant Spiderwoman who lives in the core of the Earth. And sometimes Jupiter is the entire galactic Spider Web, older and bigger than the Big Bang.
[sounds of water fade out]
Here in the Emerald Mountains, a peaceful, sweet dimension, Pluto and Jupiter met at a time in their lives where they weren’t young, perse, but they weren’t old either.
They met when they were old enough to have completed just enough underworld ancestral relationship initiations to love each other well and wisely. And they were still young enough to have their whole lives ahead of them, as if they were brand new. In this timeline, they’re happily married.
[sounds of peaceful birds chirping]
We start our story in the West. It’s a beautiful, sunny day in the Emerald Mountains. The Witch on the West is sitting on the porch, enjoying a backyard of luscious green grass, and a freshly planted garden full of zucchini, summer squashes, eggplant, broccoli, cauliflower, peppers of all colours, tomatoes of all shades, peas, garlic, blueberry and greenberry blossoms.
Like most Witches on the West, she has bright green skin, thin round glasses, and thick hair pulled back into a long braid…but what makes this Doctor different is her green triangular dragon scales and spines running from her crown down her back, complete with webbed feet and dragon’s claws.
A Wolf appears up ahead, coming over a hill headed toward the back yard. The Wolf’s fur is white, with one black paw. The Wolf has one clear blue eye, almost silver, and the other eye is dark brown.
The Wolf is weak, weary, limping. She looks like she has been traveling from far away for weeks, if not months. Dr. Dragon notices the Wolf is bleeding.
“Nothing’s right,” Pluto whispers. “She’s torn.”
Barely hanging on, the Wolf makes it to the middle of the backyard before finally collapsing.
Dr. Dragon springs toward the Wolf. She asks:
“What’s your name? Origin? Purpose?”
The Wolf doesn’t respond.
Let me explain something about Pluto when she appears as a Dragon, a Watcher, a Water Protector on the West. She’s not gonna let anyone into her home unless she knows your name. That goes for for any species, in their body, or in the spirit realm.
Those are the rules. It’s not personal. It’s not rude. It’s an act of kindness, actually. When there are thousands of lost souls wandering the Universe…if you take someone in who isn’t supposed to be here…you run the risk of sabotaging their entire healing journey.
Then again, 2024, the year that it happened, was in fact the year that Love Broke the Rules.
Dr. Dragon was about to say, I’m so sorry, I can’t help you. But then she stops. Wait.
I know her.
“I know her,” She says out loud. “She’s-she’s family. Take her in. Help, quickly. Master Healers, Light Workers, Surgeons, I call upon you. Help this Wolf. Do what you know how to do. Bring her back. She’s…she’s, family. She’s family.”
Pluto lifts the Wolf herself, carries her inside to the Sun Room. She lays the Wolf down on her side.
The Rescue team arrives immediately in the energy field, beginning their assessment. The Wolf is bleeding in the stomach, the heart is really weak, the ankle looks cracked.
The stomach wound is the core issue, that means this about the Solar Plexus, says one of the surgeons. As for the South East ankle…the field of manifestation is broken.
Yes, you’re right, says another, but it’s the heart that needs serious attention. The Heart is key.
The team performs its repair on all timelines and dimensions. They set the Wolf up with energetic and physical IV fluids, as she is too weak to move, eat or drink. The fluids are infused with some of the most powerful nutrients in the Universe, strengthening the Wolf immediately and visibly.
It’s clear, the Wolf is going to live. But she needs a lot of time to recover.
Weeks, if not months pass. The Wolf is still lying in the Sunroom, same position, light and shadow paint her body from sunrise to sunset.
Each day Dr. Dragon sits quietly with the Wolf, sometimes reading her favourite books on her rocking chair. Sometimes they gaze out the window together at the Emerald Mountains.
One day the Doctor walks into the Sun Room and gasps. The Wolf isn’t a Wolf anymore, it’s…
“Shaunga?”
Well, it’s kind of Shaunga. She’s shape shifting back and forth every few minutes. ZZHHP. It’s the Wolf. ZZHHHP It’s Shaunga, curled in fetal position, lying naked on the floor. ZZHHP. ZZZHPP.
“Shaunga? Can you Speak?”
Shaunga says nothing. Her eyes are open, blinking, but there’s no expression.
More weeks go by. Each day, same question. The Doctor doesn’t ask in a rushing way. “Shaunga? Can you Speak?” Just to say, I’m here.
Day after day no response until finally…Shaunga says something.
“Man I could really use some chicken noodle soup for the soul. But alas, I can’t digest wheat.”
Pluto’s heart breaks open with relief and a laugh.
“I’ll see if I can find you something gluten free.”
More quiet, gentle days pass. The Watcher finally asks.
“What happened? Why are you here?”
“I don’t…know. I remember…I was defending my home. Was it…it was a bear. A Bear attack? All I know is that I was defending my home. I was protecting my cubs. They were just babies. They were terrified. They didn’t have a way to fight back.”
“I know that I saved them. I don’t just hope that I did, I know that I did. I know I saved them.”
“So…where are they? Why aren’t they here? Why did I come here alone?”
A few weeks later, Shaunga and the Wolf are still shape shifting back and forth ZHHHP ZHHHP but now at least they are strong enough to walk around. They make offerings to the garden, they help out in the kitchen.
“I know I don’t belong here.” Shaunga admits one afternoon while peeling carrots at the table.
“But I live by principles of ancestral artistry. Number one: rest for as long as you need. If you don’t want to talk, don’t talk. In fact, one is required to rest for at least one whole cycle of the creative process, if not two, or three, before they say anything. You taught me that. When you’re ready to write you will. When you’re ready to speak or sing, you will.”
“I know that I don’t belong here, I need to find my people. You saw that for me. You said this year was the biggest level up of my life. It’s about finding my Soul Family. Amongst my own species, imagine that.”
“Did you come here because you don’t know where to find them?”
“I know exactly where they are. I just don’t know WHEN they are.”
“Seriously, I know their precise longitude and latitude. I could show you on a map. It’s near the Earth’s root chakra.”
“I know so much about the friends I’m longing for. I know their race, their genders, their Ancestors. I know their dreams, their grief. Not because I’m anything special, but because they told me, and I listened.”
“They told me through the wood wide web – yeah our Ancestral Communication technologies that we all learned together. We learned to talk to each other through the roots of trees, the rocks, the apacheta, the shell phones. The dream realm.”
“Why is everyone so surprised that my powers would exponentialize to this level after years of epic intergalactic collective ceremony and communion? Of course my talents in Quantum Whispering have exploded.”
“The problem is, I crossed a line. I broke the “cute” rule.”
The cute rule?
Yeah, queers and their magic. Oh astrologers, they’re so cute. It’s cute to channel readings for zodiac signs on youtube, just don’t get too dangerous. Don’t cross that line. Suddenly you’re too talented. Taking it too seriously. Now you not only have invisible friends, but REVOLUTIONARY invisible friends? That’s downright offensive. You can be a witch, you just can’t be too crazy.
You can be magical, but you can’t be too…too…
“I get it. You can’t get too jiggy with it.”
Egg-sactly.
I don’t know, maybe they’re right. Maybe I am just Crazy Old Maurice. He’s always good for a laugh.
“If you know where your friends are, why did you come here?”
Because, I don’t know their names. And we’ve never been close enough to touch. See, I can know everything about them. I can know everything about the Universe…but if I don’t have touch, I have nothing.
You know, says, Dr. Dragon, I’ve been thinking a lot about the importance of naming our teachers. So I’m just gonna say it: Every time Shaunga opens her mouth, I learn something.
Hey, how did you know it was me? When I was the Wolf, and I collapsed in the yard, and I couldn’t say my name. How did you know I was family?
Your eyes.
[sounds of a clock striking midnight or noon // sounds of a wheel cranking forward]
The clock strikes 12. A giant gold wheel in the ground, creaks and cranks, slowly spinning forward.
Shaunga: What is that?
Pluto: Oh, that’s just the big Wheel of Fortune. It lives under the land. It does that from time to ti –
[break]
Whoa, where am I?
Shaunga is no longer in the West. She’s still here, in the Emerald Mountains. But now she’s on a magnificent outdoor stage looking outward at unbounded green hills and valleys sprawling into the horizon.
I stand on the stage with my arms wide open and call out:
“GRANDMOTHER MULTIVERSE, [echoing] MULTIVERSE, multiverse”
“Not you, saying my name on my birthday!”
There she is, the Good Witch of the North.
Well, she’s not here in a body, she’s an ascended Elder. She has no form. I just feel her everywhere in the sky. A sweet grandmother with a child’s giggle. But don’t get it twisted, she is more dangerous than danger.
“What brings you here to the North?”
Grandmother Multiverse, I need your help. I think…I believe I’m cursed.
“Well, I can fix that. In fact, I already did. The first thing I ever taught you was how to break curses on your lineage.”
I know. I do my best to follow your teachings every day, with diligence.
But that’s the problem. I’m too good at it. The more I heal, the more alone I become. Then I say, okay let me look into that. Let me break the curse. I journey with it. I apprentice it. And I do, I break it. I heal more deeply, I get more powerful.
And there it is again. Nobody wants to be around me. It’s too much. It’s too weird. Too serious, too triggering.
So I say, okay let me look into that. Let me go deeper. And it happens again!
“Oh my. You’ve gone got yourself stuck in a Time Loop.”
Yeah. Plus I hear this voice. I know it’s not the only one. But it’s the loudest. I can’t seem to ignore it. It takes over everything. It saying: “A Plague. A Plague upon all your houses, a Plague.”
“Shaunga. Why won’t you let humans surprise you?”
“Remember that time about 11 years ago. Your grandma had just died. I mean, not me. Your Dad’s Mom. It was January, a snowstorm. You were supposed to go to a party hosted by the writing collective you were a part of, but you were too grumpy cranky pants. You cancelled last minute. Then later you found out they had planned a whole surprise party for you, to celebrate your contribution and your years of hard work. And you didn’t show up to your own party!
Oh yeah…[laughs] oh my god, I still feel so bad about that! Truly. Okay, I know it was 11 years ago, but can I just take this moment on my podcast to apologize publicly to the people who put in such a beautiful effort for me. I’m so sorry I’m such a fucking grinch.
Be easy on yourself. You were honouring your body’s need to rest.
No, I was a fucking grinch. I just…I can’t get through this block. I’ve been hurt so much by every community that I’ve tried to be a part of. I know I need to move on. But I can’t get past it. Believe me, I’ve worked this wound. I’ve looked at the worst parts of humanity from all angles.
Well, what did your Ancestors say?
Okay, they said that we, as communities, need to heal our relationship with hatred. That’s different than trying to change hatred itself. We know there’s so much hatred on the planet right now from intimate partner abuse to goddamn militarized genocide and ethnic cleansing. The way humans are enacting hatred has got to change.
But well meaning people have it wrong. You can’t go into an energy like that and just stop it. There is no just stopping it. We think the only way to stop something is to go in and make it stop, like hold its shoulders down until it learns its lesson, but that’s not how it’s going to work this time. We can’t make hatred change.
What we can do is heal our relationship to it. We can go in our own souls, bodies, lineage, and heal on every level we can find it – every timeline, every dimension.
That’s a principle of ancestral artistry. You don’t force something to change. You choose to change. No protagonist ever started a story without a will to become the story they’re birthing. Without a desire, a love spell, a prayer that was louder than everything they would have to withstand, sacrifice and lose in order to just, change.
Shaunga, I’m interrupting, but can I please get a mic in front of you right now? Everybody needs to hear you talk about this.
Yeah yea, yea, no, not yet – can we just, you and me, talk first?
Okay…
Principle of Ancestral Artistry: You can’t force anyone to change. But when you change, the world around you has no choice, but to change. You can’t sit next to someone undergoing an epic magnificent personal transformation, and not be changed yourself.
We have to heal our relationship to hatred. We don’t need everyone in the world on this work, we just need enough of us. If we can heal our relationship to hatred, en masse, then hatred must dissolve, demolish, dismantle and rebirth. It won’t have a choice.
Shaunga!
Yeah. I actually just wrote an entire mini series spin off on this topic for the community: healing our relationship to hatred, self study, global study, multiverse study. It’s about a little girl named Cynd-Rahel-la.
You mean Cinderella?
No. I mean CYND-RAHEL-LA
[gung gung // clock strikes 12 // the wheel cranks forward]
Oh there goes that Wheel of Fortune aga —
Whoa. Okay. Where Am I now?
[sounds of fire]
Still in the Emerald Mountains. To my right there’s a gorgeous sacred fire cackling, hot stones leading up to the pit. I walk toward the Wicked Witch of the East, who sitting next to the fire, tending to it. She’s dressed in a sexy red body suit with black dots looking like a ladybug. She has giant spiderlegs sprawling from her back like wings.
Hey, I know her.
You’re the One…who the one who tried to kill me and all my friends in our dreams. How’ve you been?
The Spiderwoman slowly cranks her neck, looking me straight in my first eye.
Who made you mad?
Me? Nobody. Don’t go there.
Ah, but it is you, who came here.
Spiderwoman crawls toward me, circling me. [click click click]
This is the realm of the EAST.
…QUESTION. Before they banned ceremony from public life, they banned artists from ceremony. And before they banned artists from ceremony, what did they do, little Talky Meat?
They banned Fire from theatre.
Egg-sactly. [click click click] You are here, in the realm of the EAST. And I am the guardian of fire! I am the doctor of everything that BURNS.
Sweet, Simple Cynd-Rahel-la. This is the East. We DO DO drama here.
So – why are you here? Who made you mad?
You did.
I did?
You did. You said my name, and then you acted like I wasn’t here. And you did it in the same sentence.
[click click click] HEH?
You were talking to the flowers, I heard you. You said, we all have to remember where we are. This is Earth, this is our home, we have to honour her. This is the only home that we have. We’re on Earth. We’re not on Mars. We’re not on Jupiter. We’re not on Pluto. But you very well know my name.
To me that’s like saying, I live in Tkaronto, not on Earth. I mean, it’s true. I don’t live everywhere on Earth all at once.
That’s a principle of Ancestral Artistry, specificity matters. The deeper you go into your specific story, with details that can’t apply to anything other than your voice, can’t be confused or stolen…go deep enough into that, and you’ll find the archetypal, the universal. You’ll find the same 7 stories that all of humanity is grappling with. Tell your story, specifically, so powerfully, that you reach the archetypal, then you have the power to touch every single being in their specificity. You have the power to move them, specifically.
So I don’t understand how you can know who I am and not understand that I AM the zodiac. I AM the planets. We might have specific locations, but the deeper we go, aren’t we everything, everywhere, all at once? Aren’t we accountable to everything, everywhere, all at once?
We’re all orbiting around the same Sun. Some of you seem to forget that, like I once did.
Ahh, forgetting. [clicks click click] Tears well in every single one of the Slayer’s LadyBug eyes on her body. One of Humans greatest pains in me. But you still haven’t said it. Speak up. Be Yourself, Talky Meat. Why are you here? Who made you mad?
You did. Because you keep asking me that question. Why am I here? Look. I get it, you’re speaking to the part of me that knows I have somewhere else to be.
But don’t pretend I’m one of your students who needs to be constantly cajoled and dragged through their shadow work and lectured into remembering their guidance. I’m not perfect. I constantly make mistakes. But at the end of the day, every day, I’m on point. I’m on purpose. I don’t stray.
If I’m here, if I’m anywhere. I have a good reason to be. I have a job to do. I have a place on an altar that I need to sit.
[sounds of fire get louder]
And I just need to be there. Just because that job is undervalued and underfunded, it doesn’t mean I have a choice. I still have to sit here. Not because I’m powerless, but because of my Heart. Because once I betrayed my Heart, so bad, and it was a Holy Betrayal. It was for the good of humanity and all that is, truly. But it was still a betrayal.
Now, for the rest of time, I have no choice, but to give back. I have to let the Heart lead. Don’t ask me why I’m still here. I have a job to do. I’ll go when I’m done. I’ll be here until I’m not.
Who made me mad?
Everyone.
Because they don’t remember you. They’re acting like you’re not here. You drenched them, they drenched themselves in the ceremony of Pluto in Capricorn, a whole era of riches, just handed over on a platter, mostly for free. And they ate it up.
So many healers put their bodies on the line. They live with illnesses and chronic pain now, and they don’t regret it. They had to go to hard and scary places to find the medicine and deliver it to the people.
But now the people are acting like they don’t even know your name. As if they never heard of you, let alone showered in your teachings. I want to know, why didn’t anyone learn their lessons of Pluto in Capricorn? Why aren’t you living them out now? Where did those teachings go? Where are they hiding? What did they do with them? People were given so many blessings. Where are they?
You know what, nobody has to want my medicine.
[sounds of fire stop]
But if you don’t want it, then own it.
[sounds of fire ramp up]
Don’t keep calling me to your door and then pretending like you don’t know who I am. You don’t have to want my medicine, but the least you could do is not shoot it in the foot.
If you don’t want to take the time apprenticing my full bodied technology, then don’t keep expecting me to give you all the answers of a world in a sentence. Don’t go out of your way to pursue me and then do everything you can to find loop holes, technicalities, back alley ways flips flops back flips quadruple toe lutz salchow patrick chan nathan chen just to scaffold a makeshift a container where you feel justified to TAKE…and never reciprocate.
I’m mad at everyone who treats me the way they treat astrology like ayhuasca like storytellers like screens and tablets like gold and cobalt, like the only reason anyone likes you is because of what they can GET from you. What can I GET from you? Be honest. If you don’t want to give back, own the fact that you don’t want it at all.
[sounds of fire end]
[click click click]
Talky Meat. Your script is too confusing. Need more fleshy. Flesh it out, Flesh it out. Speak up. Need more meat on those bones.
Every day I wake up. And I’m so mad at humans.
But the truth is, I’m not. I’m in the East. This is where the Old Ones live. We do rage, Old Ones, but not like that. We see the bigger picture. We understand that something was done to humans, once upon a time.
We don’t trust humans. We don’t like them. We wouldn’t wanna hang out at a queer pride party. But we understand them. We feel for them.
I’m not angry at humans. I wake up every day in a rage because I’m angry at myself for choosing to be one. I’m angry at becoming something that I don’t trust.
Yoouuu. [click click click] You don’t know how old you are.
[the clock strikes 12 // the wheel of fortune shifts]
Ahhh, the South. I forgot how much I love this place.
[sounds of a river jumping and flowing]
The Witch sits near a sweet river, bursting at the seems with life. She has bright purple skin with an apothecary of 13 wild flowers growing in her hair. I sit next to her at the riverbank.
Why are you here?
I’m scared of people.
Ah. You and me both, kid.
So, tell me. On the West, the Witch’s name is Elphaba. In the north, her name is Glinda. On the East, her name is Nessa Rose. So how come you never had a name?
Jupiter turns sideways and looks me up and down.
You can’t pay your bills. [burst out laughing, cackling] You can’t pay your bills? [laughing] Girl, that is so funny.
Is this really an appropriate way for a spiritual teacher to speak to their student?
Ah get outta here with that prim and proper wacky tacky. Go talk to a therapist if you want someone to ask you about your feelings.
Oh you can’t pay your bills, that’s so hard, how does that makes you feel? Let’s do some breath work.
Fuck you. Go talk to a queer sex therapist if you don’t want someone to swear at you in a session.
You of all people can’t pay your bills? Your medicine is rich. It’s attractive. You’re literally the darling of our mesa lodge. You got wads of hundred dollar bills coming out your derriere from all angles, day and night straight outta the mouths of our most beloved revolutionary Ancestors…and you still haven’t figured out how to monetize that shit? At this point I got nothing for you but laughs.
I know, I know I see them. The non believers, the haters, hoarding around you, desperate for some truth, inhaling whatever you have to give then sticking it in the trash. So what, Captain Duck?
[sounds of the river end]
You Alone were always more powerful than collective complicity.
Your medicine is RICH. It’s loud. It’s Rambunctious. Whatchyou doing coming over here with that famous shit oozing from your pores? This is a place of Rest.
Because, I’m tired.
You’re tired? Talk to me after you been out here for the last 8 years ushering hundreds of little queer babies through the darkest nights of their souls, dragging them kicking and screaming through their individualized underworld, coming out the other side full of ancestral wealth…except nobody can pay me for nothin. They already blew all their money on floor tickets to the Beyonce concert. You’re tired?
That IS why I’m talking to you right now. What have I done in the last 8 years, if not exactly that?
Right, I forgot. You’re a mini-me. Shaunga, what are you still doing here in the underground? Your money will never flow unless your medicine is shared with the world. Yet here you are – sad wounded Wolf moping around my yellow brick road where nobody knows your name. There’s nothing here for you. There’s nothing left. You gotta let go of the pot.
That’s not how the story goes.
Explainy?
The wisdom keeper doesn’t let go of the pot. He holds on. He spends millenia protecting his ancestral wisdom from all sorts of genocides and witch hunts in god knows how many dimensions. He keeps it safe in lonely, scary places where the Witch Hunt can’t find him. High altitude of a mountain where regular humans can’t breathe. Heart of a jungle where jaguars rip the head off of regular humans and eat them for snacks. Pure Arctic isolation where regular humans can’t survive a day without touch, let alone entire lifetimes.
The Wisdom Keeper learns to live and die in hiding. He makes peace with it. He knows a time will eventually come when it’s safe for the medicine to be shared, and flow freely among the people. He lives in devotion to the dream, the promise, the future, and he doesn’t have to live in it. The devotion is Enough.
And now, he knows the time has come for the medicine to be shared, but it’s the Wind that knocks the pot out of his hands. He doesn’t let go. He can’t.
The Universe doesn’t expect him to suddenly change his mind, change who he is, who he had to become. The Universe wouldn’t ask that of him. After losing everything else just to protect the child, now he has to let go of the child too? No way. That’s why the Wind does it for him. It’s an act of Mercy. It’s Gratitude.
The pot is broken. But he is still holding on, even though it’s gone. He doesn’t know how to let go, and he was never meant to.
See, this is what I’m talking about. Jupiter tosses a Bee Balm flower from her hair onto the Wolf. The world is aching to throw money at you, just for the random shit that comes sideways out of your mouth.
The only ones laughing at you more than me are your own Ancestors. It’s hilarious watching you run around tryna get paid in every way possible way other than just the medicine itself. It’s just your voice! It’s enough!
No, instead you gotta be Shaunga-ing The Most bending over backwards, flip flops, what do you call it, patrick chan nathen chen all the way up the wazoo, making life so hard for yourself.
Oh yeah, because we live in a society where we’re so eager to pay QTBIPOC healers, writers, teachers and artists well. Why the fuck would anyone want to pay me when they get writing, teaching and healing for free on the internet all the time?
Because you’re Shaunga Motherfucking Tagore, and you’re turning 40 all summer 2024, in fact. You could cash in whenever you want. Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.
Don’t pretend you don’t love getting your ass pounded by the Universe – kinky ass bitch.
Hey! Don’t be telling my secrets!
Look who’s talking, miss magical reality TV for the revolution!
Tell me, Shaunga, without looking it up in the dictionary: DEFINE MONSTER.
A monster is a planetary priestess, an otherworldly giant, a wicked witch…in a world that doesn’t know she is one.
Okay. Then who is she in a world…that knows her?
Oh, I don’t know, I…she’s
She’s-
she’s…
She’s…she’s loved. Okay? Get it through your head. She’s loved. She’s loved.
Ugh goddang these kids. Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.
Don’t pretend you don’t love getting your ass pounded by the Universe. Kinky ass bitch.
Hey! Don’t go telling my secrets. Wait, what’s happening? We’ve already had this conversation.
Oh damn it. We’re looping. Shaunga, why are you still here?
Because, I’m tired.
You’re tired? Talk to me after you been out here for the last 8 years ushering little queer babies – oh shit.
Shaunga, you have to get us of here. Get us out of this time loop.
How can I get us out of here? I’m in here!
Exactly. WHY ARE YOU HERE? This is a place of rest. You’re too obnoxious for this.
Because, I’m tired.
You’re tired? I’ve been the legit Original Queer Fairy God Mother, running around feeding spoon fulls of sugar to little queer – dammit…Shaunga, let go of the pot.
That’s not how the story goes. The wisdom keeper doesn’t let go of the pot, it’s the wind that knocks the pot out of his hands…aaahhh! How do we get out of here?
Quick, tell me the definition of a monster:
[clock starts ticking]
A monster is a wicked witch, an otherworldly giant, a planetary priestess is a world that doesn’t know she is one
Fuck you Shaunga, you’re Loved!
Is it really appropriate for a spiritual teacher to swear at their student
Go talk to a queer sex therapist
HOW DO I PAY MY BILLS!?
Get out of here with your prim and proper wacky tacky
we scream together: FUCCCKK
Dr. Love, I don’t know how to get us out of this scene
You’re a writer – you’re ALIVE – you can do whatever the fuck you want!
Dr. Love, I don’t know how to write us out of this scene
Yes you do
I don’t…know how to do it in a good way
I have to stop, I’m just gonna stop. I’m gonna stop writing.
[clock stops ticking]
Whoa, where am I?
[dance party music drops hard, “Foam Party”]
I’m not in the Emerald Mountains. Oh my god. Am I at a Toronto Pride Party.
Oh my god, oh my god, get me out of here. I’m not safe here. I’m too disabled for this. This place isn’t safe for my magic, my Trancestors. The Extractive Energetics are gonna come for me, gonna come for me. Where am I? Doors open at 10, show starts at 10:30…PM!? Oh my god.
Okay…I can, I can…I can do this?
I sit down at the bar, reach for my wallet to pay for a mocktail, mumbling to myself.
I can do this. I have a stellium in Gemini, for Pet’s sake. I can be social. I’m social.
Then, out of “left field”…someone gently touches his hand on mind, stopping me before I pay for my drink. And he says:
[the music stops]
“Can I get that for you?”
I look up and…oh my god…I know him.
[music fades back in]
“Hey,” I say. “You’re the beast.”
I’m the what?
No, sorry I didn’t mean…beast like, no you’re very handsome…like, oh my god, you’re very handsome, damn… I mean, thank you for the drink, that’s very generous of you, I didn’t – okay, I just meant you look like the beast, like the prince……after he was the beast – or is it before…when are you? Are you a good guy or a bad guy? I’m sorry I’m rambling
it’s just that you look exactly like him – I had a barbie doll like you, actually
This my friends, I’m very sorry to say is Shaunga when she’s flirting…she’s not trying to flirt, it’s just coming out like that, I do apologize.
Like I had a barbie doll, like the beast…it came with a big beast head that you could take on and off, the beast head, you take it off and on, but he was very handso…but you’re more handsome than the barbie…doll…that’s because…uh, so yeah, you look like the prince who was the beast or will become the beast, I just don’t know WHEN you are, that’s all that I wanted to say
I’m hoping at any moment someone will splash their water on me so I melt into a puddle and disappear from this conversation…but then he leans his elbows onto the bar, and he’s looking at me like he’s enjoying me or something…
[music fades out]
Oh yeah, totally, you mean the Prince Post Beast like [he hums a melody] “da da da da da DA daaaa”
YESS EXACTLY OMG
YEA YEA and then it goes [he hums again] “da na da na naaa naaa…Belle, It’s Me!”
Yessss! Exactly! See you know what I mean…it’s a compliment. He’s the hottest prince, for sure.
Really? You think so? What about Aladdin?
Oh yeah, Aladdin…no, no, you’re hotter than Aladdin. I mean…to say thank you for the drink, it’s um, very kind of you.
So how do you like this party? Are you having fun?
Oh Yes. Fun, Having. Yes.
I’m trying to describe the face I’m making right now. Like when you’re forced to smile for a family portrait and you really want to make it look like you’re a happy family. But he’s looking at me like he thinks I’m cute, or something.
You and me both. I’m scared of people. I don’t know why I’m here. Or how I got here. Why are you here?
Oh, I’m following my guidance, from my Ancestors…and I really just said that out loud…
No, I get it, I get it. What did your Ancestors say?
Oh, well…it’s kinda a long story.
He gives me a little shy smile and then a little sexy shrug. “I got time.”
Okay. Well, how do I explain this…you know in Mighty Ducks two?
Of course Emilio Estevez, Gordon Bombay,
together: the Minnesota Miracle Man
He starts the movie as a hot shot coach, he gets a taste of fame and immediately sells out…
As you do, inevitable
Right, so he’s lost the mission, he doesn’t show up to one of the hockey games when his team is ONE ELIMINATION AWAY FROM forfeiting the whole series. And if you think about it as an metaphor or more accurately a fractal of our movements for abolition in our lifetime and de-escalating or or even reversing the devastating impacts of climate change – I mean you have to listen to one of my earlier podcast episodes on the topic to get the full picture of what I mean, I really can’t flesh it out right now
No, I remember that one: it’s called..uh, Time is a Heartbeat, right?
Yes, that one…so it’s a whole thing, what do you believe, that we’ve already won, or we’ve already lost?
Spoiler Alert – principle of ancestral artistry – what you believe you call into being
And would you look at that, it all comes down to whether or not a spiritual coach is gonna sell out the minute they get a taste of fame
I mean, we’re doomed, obviously
Doomed – if we leave it up to the fame hungry spiritual coach, that is…cuz coach doesn’t even show up to the game, but all is not lost because at the 11th hour, the TEACHER pretends to BE the coach…so the Ducks can still play, and they win.
Fuck yes. Ms McKay becomes Coach Mckay. Brilliant.
Right? Everyone thinks that Charlie Conway aka Joshua Jackson aka Pacey Witter is the hero of this story.
Yeah, or Luis Mendoza, the guy that skates really fast but can’t stop…
Oh my god, yes he’s my favourite. But no, the real hero is [together] the teacher.
If she hadn’t stepped in, the movie would be over at the halfway mark.
So anyway, while she’s coaching, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s looking out at the team and she’s like: “ugh we look tired. We need…to ah switch places.”
And Joshua Jackson’s like, whaaa?
Uuh, new players.
Oh, say change it up.
Change it Up.
No, scream it.
CHANGE IT UPPP!!!!
Love it. Totally iconic scene
TOTALLY iconic.
But so yeah, that’s it. That’s why I’m here. I’m trying to change things up!
I’m supposed to come out of my shell. That’s what I promised you, just not yet. Not promise like obligation, promise like…meeting you, being around you…just made me want to…come out…that is…but it hasn’t happened yet. That doesn’t happen until like, a month after this conversation. So I don’t actually know if it’s you who I make this promise to, you’re not him yet. And I don’t know when you are. Are you the prince before he was the beast, or after? It makes a difference. When are you?
Oh…oh I don’t know? I’ve never thought about it like that before. I’m just here.
No, yeah that’s cool, that’s cool…totally…totally, totally. I wouldn’t expect you to…anyway…this is me, coming out of shell
I make that family photo smile again
But he’s leaning in closer to me…crinkly eyes…sweet ass smile that’s kinda making me melt…
Well, whatever it is…it looks good on you…hey can I ask you a question?
Yeah…wait – you listen to my podcast?
What?
My podcast – you knew what I was talking about when I mentioned my Mighty Ducks 2 episode
Oh Uhhh I’m…
[clock strikes 12]
What were you gonna ask me?
I was gonna ask you to um…dance?
[dance party music “Foam Party” fades back in // the clock strikes 12]
Oh…
[the clock strikes 12]
But actually, I gotta go
Oh okay…what are you Cinderella or something?
CYND-RAHEL-LA, actually
Well aren’t you gonna leave me a glass slipper – or some queer modern day equivalent?
Nah. You already got my number.
He turns to leave, but I touch his hand this time – Wait – what’s your name?
Oh…you know what? I don’t think that prince ever had a name…he was always just the beast
[music fades out]
Everyone disappears, the queer club is gone. I look down at the piece of paper he left next to my hand. It says: 638.
Wait. That’s not your number. It’s mine.
I’m back at Central Mesa…literally the center, I’ve been to all four directions, and then a toronto pride party god help me and now I’m here in the middle
This is where I’m supposed to meet the wizard. And have my confrontation with God. But I don’t want God. I just want my God of Small Things.
I want my cubs. My babies.
I know I saved you. Why aren’t you here?
We’re right here. Mom, we’re always right here.
[music plays: “So Others May Live”]
Estha and Rahel appear. Their paws are outstretched, bearing gifts, songs, surprises and flowers.
We have so many gifts for you, Mom! For your 40th Birthday. For all of Pluto in Capricorn. For every drop of time that we shared. We can never repay you for what you gave us. But we will spend the rest of our time giving back to you, just to try.
Estha and Rahel wave their paws and create a mirror in front of us. They show me the truth of what happened the day our home was attacked by the Bear.
Mama Wolf did indeed defend our home. During the fight, her stomach was torn. Her ankle cracked. But she saved her cubs, she did. She grew an energy from within, so powerful. It scared the Bear off. So much that it was clear the Bear would never return. It was a respect thing.
And my babies, they really were okay. They were scared but unharmed.
But the Mama…she was dying. She knew she was dying. She didn’t have much time left.
So here’s what she did.
She stopped time.
She opened a portal, and ushered her kids inside. With the strength of her inner magic, the same magic that scared away the bear, she created a forcefield around the portal, and it was indestructible.
In this dream world, Wolf Mama was still injured. But the injury wasn’t progressing. That was the purpose of the spell. So they could live. So she could just be there.
And they did that, for 15 years. They lived. Inside of a dream. A Mama and her two cubs.
The cubs grew up. They grew from babies into seniors, and she stayed more or less the same age.
They shared everything. They were good stewards of this place. And they were a happy family.
When they died, they last thing the cubs said to their grieving mother was…we had a good life. And this is a good death. What more could we ask for?
Sometime around 2008, the Earth’s Core stopped spinning. It stayed still for 15 years. Out of grief. out of respect. What causes such a strange phenomena? Some will tell you about gravitational forces. But it wasn’t any of that. It was just a Mom.
When it was over, when they were gone…Wolf Mama doubled over in exhaustion.
The dream world collapsed, on all dimensions. The Wolf really wanted to collapse, too. She didn’t have much left in the tank or on the clock. She could just let go, right here, the same place that they did. But she didn’t.
Why?
I don’t know. There was something else inside. A pulse, a beat, a drum. She followed. She didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t have a map. Didn’t have directions. Didn’t know if anyone would be there when she got there.
But she just…let her heart lead. She travelled.
She travelled and travelled and travelled, and I don’t know how she did it, honestly.
Days, months, who knows how long it was. I think at some point the Wolf really did believe that she was crazy.
What am I doing? I had the life I wanted. I raised my cubs. I did it well. I was a good Mom. Why am I still here?
Everybody thinks that I’m crazy. I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know what I’m looking for. But I act like I believe it. I act like I know that everything we put our faith in will win. Just because of what, faith?
That’s ridiculous. It is offensive. I should have just let my body rest.
It’s a good thing that she was almost dying because she was too tired to give any attention to her inner monologue. She just kept going.
Until one day, finally she said – I think I’m done. I had a job to do, and I did it. I followed my heart, not knowing where it would lead. I think I’m good. I’m done.
The Wolf came up over one last hill, and was about to leave and then…
Oh my god. I know her.
The Wolf recognizes a green skinned witch sitting on her porch in the West, enjoying her garden.
I know her. She’s family.
I come up over the hill, into a backyard in full bloom. Just a little further. And then it goes blurry. And then it goes black.
And now here we are. Estha and Rahel and me. The three of us sitting in circle, listening to a story. An epic tale of four witches on each direction and a Toronto pride party.
I squeeze Estha and Rahel close to me on either side.
You’re my money. You’ve always been my money.
[music ends]
[the clock strikes 12 // clock ticking // the wheel of fortune cranks forward // sounds of fire // sounds of water]
Someone’s coming, I can feel it. Maybe we are gonna have a confrontation with God afterall. Or at least a worthy Antagonist.
A tornado of mist spins furiously before us, a whirlwind of ether becoming matter, becoming human.
[sound stop]
Oh, shit. I know her. I don’t like her.
[theme song music: electronica punch]
My beloveds, thank you so much for being here with me on this journey. This is a huge one, I am dropping this episode on my 40th birthday!!! June 13th. This is a huge milestone for so many reasons. Including, it’s 40, the start of a decade. It’s the age my mom was when she gave birth to me. And I’m also holding the reality that as queer, genderqueer and trans people, we don’t get guarantees that we’ll make it this far.
I need to send you all a longer message with more updates because I want to share some of the places where I’ve been struggling and facing challenges around getting my work out there, and putting out some feelers for some support. There’s been challenge with the overall success of my work and the financial stress that comes with that. I just need to find ways to get it out there more. You might guess that from the content that this episode was exploring. I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching and galactic travelling to really sort myself out in this arena, and as per following my guidance, I am committed to CHANGING THINGS UP.
I have more to share – but it’s past noon on my birthday and I promised myself I would take the day off. So I’m going to do that, But still, I really wanted to share this episode today.
So I’m gonna come back in the next few days and share those updates with you, which includes a deep desire for more collaboration with others, I want to find my dream co-creators, co-producers, co-hosts, to help life this work up, and find ways to allow our shared missions to really thrive and shine. I am going to be creating a VIP Backstage Pass for my work for folks who want to journey deeper with me. And I’m gonna be creating a campaign to run this summer called: Love Us Out Loud in Public, which is specifically for those of us this realm of movement and activism work which centers around ancestral wisdom keeping. And the deep, deep love I have for my Ancestors to be loved out loud and celebrated in public, in the ways we do as badass witches and healers.
So I’m gonna come back and give specific ways that I’m inviting and cultivating these things. But for now, I just wanted to publish this, on my birthday. If you want to send me a tip, you can do so via paypal or e-transfer, I’ll put it in the show notes. But you can also just email me, and say happy birthday, let me know you loved this episode, and that you’re interested in knowing more about the portals I’m creating. Or just to say hey, what’s up!
I’ll leave it there for now – Happy Birthday To Me! See you on the flip side, until then – Be Brave. Be a Giant.