Cycles
My mind is cloudy again. I guess in the cycles that are my psyche, it was inevitable. With work, the coming holiday, so many books to read and feeling the urge to write, I'm being stretched too thin. I can't devote time to one thing because twelve need to be done. There are things I want to do, but don't get around to doing, and things that need to be done, that I don't have the time or ambition for. It's time for me to sit and rethink my priorities. Everything around me is falling into the "half-assed" catagory simply because I can't finish anything; because I can't focus.
I haven't drawn a rune in about a week, I haven't been feeling particularly spiritual, and I haven't had any sense of energy whatsoever. If I had drawn a rune today, it would be nauthiz; that feeling of need, of missing something I wasn't sure I'd lost. I have not "strayed from the path", but I have left it and sat on a stump in the rain trying to decide where to go next. Even as I write this, I feel a welling of energy.
One of These Days
Seems to be my motto lately. I've been working on stuff in my head, when I have a moment or two of peace, but never seem to get to write anything down. My plan tonight, since I get to sleep in tomorrow, is to work on my wand. I have the material, I bought some needle nose pliers, and I have the plan (in my head). But it's getting the energy. I'm wiped out after being up since 5:00am. It's been a long day. Hopefully a glass of wine will perk me up.
Diane bought a truck the other day. A mineral grey, 2005 Dodge Ram 1500 4X4, V8 truck. She's wanted a new truck for as long as I've known her, so I'm happy she got one. I love it when people's dreams come true. Maybe someday I'll get my dog after all.
But, it's not getting any earlier, and I do want to get some wand work done, so I should at least gather the materials and play a bit. Maybe I'll go for a walk later on, enjoy the night and see if I can get the clouds to part.
What I Do at 5AM
- Wake up 2-4 minutes before my alarm
- Crawl out of bed and wash my face
- Stare at my red eyes in the mirror and debate going back to bed
- Brush my teeth
- Debate going back to bed
- Imagine the weather today and dress accordingly
- Make my bed
- Look at the clock and realize it's only 5:25am
- Debate going back to bed
- Check my e-mail
- Try to think of things I have to do today
- Check my blog
- Stare at the clock
- Fight the urge to stretch out on the couch and rest "for a few seconds"
- Decide to just stand up, make a lunch (three slices of cold pizza until I go grocery shopping)
- Put on my boots
- Go stand outside, watching the morning traffic and the sunrise while I wait for my ride
Days and Days
Days and days. I feel somewhat better, mentally at least. I have a headache that has been circulating around in my head since last week, but it's barely annoying. Today I got to skip most of the day at work and took a defensive driving course. I aced it, which will likely surprise Diane. She hates my driving and most of the time seems convinced that I'm going to kill us both in a firey crash. I'm not, of course, at least not with her in the car.
Under two months until my birthday. I'll be 31 this year, which in and of itself is not such a big deal. I'm not worried about getting older, and most of the time I look forward to it, but my melancholic mood lately reminds me of the days when I predicted that I'd be dead by the time I turned 32. That would mean, of course, that this could be my last year. Sometimes I'm surprised I lived this long. I've recinded my prediction though. I'll be dead before my 84th birthday instead. And the creepy part? I won't look any different. Except the white hair. And a different leather jacket.
Tonight I'm going to take it easy, play some xbox, work on my puzzle, work on my wand and read some more of the Da Vinci Code. You have to love a book that has a suspenseful assasination in the first three pages :) Maybe it's just the detective in me.
Puzzles
It was a weekend. Not the greatest I've experienced, but it afforded me some time to myself and a chance to do some sleeping. I'm feeling like a stranger at home these days though, like I don't really have a home anymore. It'll pass, I know, but it's an uneasy feeling. I was a bit distant and snappy this weekend, probably because of it. I'm sorry Diane.
I bought a jigsaw puzzle on the weekend. I love puzzles and riddles and this one caught my eye because, well, it's a CSI puzzle. It comes with a black light flashlight and you have to figure out the riddle of the murder when you put the puzzle together. Oh, and they don't show you what the puzzle is supposed to look like. Tricky stuff. It should keep me occupied for a few hours. I also finally bought the Da Vinci Code and Cunningham's solitary witch book, Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner.
Mood
Harmony isn't always a good thing. There's a part of me that craves the conflict, the aggravation, the utter sense of frustration. I'm in an odd mood tonight. The sense of "nothing good comes easy". There's a part of me that is a warrior, a fighter, and another part of me that wants peace and quiet. Dichotomies. Mutlifaceted parts of my personality. My sister knows it;the sense of spoiling for a fight and wanting someone to just take the easy path. We're arguers, pushers of buttons, seekers of glory. A dark sense of Trynn's superiority and Lan's arrogance, which are not the same thing.
Charge
Ah, that old familiar feeling; that pause in my core, down in the base of my mind and soul when I'm about to do something creative. It's like the build of energy, the tightening of the coil, the charge, the preplanning of something good. I feel like going out tonight, having a beer and taking my notebook, maybe having a steak, and just seeing what happens. There is a charge building in me, because of the waxing moon, perhaps, or the impending Lughnassadh. I'm excited about build my wand, searching for an althame and doing some magic. I'm excited about writing more poetry, and being home this coming weekend.
My shift will be changing again. I mentioned to my boss that there is no need for us to work twelve hour days in the warehouse, so he took it up the ladder. We're offically down to ten hours a day, BUT instead of starting at 7am and working until 5:30pm, we're working 9:30am until 7:30pm. That means I won't get to be back here any sooner, but I get to sleep later, ergo I get to stay up later. And with the days getting noticeably shorter, more night to enjoy :D
Sonnet XVI Thoughts of Home and Abroad
Oh, hide from me those listless hours, cloak'd still
As sleep by that same night that once brought this
My mind uneasy agitation; 'til
Provedence sung sweet songs of curious
And wayward strains. Hence drawn from my sylvan
Grove, I walk'd the ways of willows and thorn
Bedeck'd wild roses that to my eyes ran
Satiate splendor, yet left me forlorn.
By some sad measure, those listless tunes do
Gently weep for my return and haunt my
Silent meditations and petition
With the beauty I had found once there too.
Yet settled by the purplescent night sky,
I watch the sunset with sad satisfaction.
-June 15, 1997
Lazy Days
I've been feeling lazy the last couple of days. The combination of working 12 hour days (which, if you count getting ready for, driving to and from are actually 14hrs), the rainy evenings and too sunny, too hot days, and having the house to myself have left me tired and drained. Last night I watched three back to back episodes of CSI season 2 because I was too lazy to get up and put something else in the dvd player. I went to bed at 8:44pm and was asleep by 8:47. I have hope for today, however. The sky is overcast and windy, and they are calling for thunderstorms. I hope they're right. I find the heat and brightness of the day saps me, makes me tired, probably because I walk around with my eyes half closed from squinting.
I've been doing a bit of research in wand making, and I have the concepts worked out in my head. Once I'm done gathering materials (part planning, part intuition), I'll write out my ritual for the 1st and have my tool prepared for dedication. I'm going to force myself to get started on it right away. I'm also thinking about looking for an althame this weekend, and perhaps doing a dual dedication ritual.
Sonja changed the look of OSW&DW yesterday, and I approve :) I had in mind a greener vision, but the moon and the black branches in the twilight sky is awesome.
I've added a couple of herb books to my wishlist:
The Green Pharmacy: The Ultimate Compendium of Natural Remedies from the World's Foremost Authority on Healing Herbs by James DukeThe Green Pharmacy Herbal Handbook: Your Everyday Reference to the Best Herbs for Healing by James Duke
I want to learn not just about the magical properties of herbs, but also the medicinal properties. Blend the two into a practicle usage of herbs.
Timewarp
Time is twisted today. In fact, my whole perception is twisted today. I went to bed at about 9:45 last night and woke up thinking I'd been asleep forever, when in fact it was only 11:24. I promptly fell asleep again, waking up again at 2:30, thinking it was time to get up. And then again at 4:25. I had three seperate dreams, each of which seemed to last forever...
I was walking home from work (I think), through the forest, beside a river. I saw a man standing by the river, he might have been fishing. He was an older man, balding, with whitish grey hair and a jovial face. He stopped me, and we talked for a while. A fox came walking out of the trees by the bank and stopped, staring at the two of us. "I wish I had a pet fox," I said aloud.
"She's your's," the man said to me, smiling. I bent and held my hand out to the fox, who shied and looked as though she may run, but crept up slowly instead and smelled my outstretched fingers. I gently touched her head and she moved toward me and licked my face. I laughed and pulled her into my arms and held her proudly.
I put her down and said goodbye to the man and started to walk along the path home, and the fox followed.
I lived in a small, square room, cluttered with books and boxes and a hammock that hung in the corner. I laid down and the fox jumped into the hammock with me and we slept for a little while. But soon she wanted to go outside, and I knew that she wouldn't come back, but I let her go anyway, watching her dissappear in the trees again.
The second dream I remember, I was living in an apartment in Fort McMurray, and my phone rang. "Get downstairs, son," came a voice I recognized as my dad, even though he sounded like Bruce Willis.
"What's going on?" I could her glass breaking in the background over the phone.
"My windows are all broken," he said.
"Why?" I asked, puzzled by the whole thing.
"Look out your balcony," he said. Looking out the window, I looked out over the city and saw crowds of people running through the streets, many of them wearing oversized mascot costumes, tripping and pushing, panicking. I looked past them and saw a large dust cloud billowing over the city and the crowd, and beyond it, a tornado. I hung up and started tio run for the exit.....
I don't remember the third dream, though the two that preceded were enough to keep my mind turning all day.
Hero
My sister phonned me tonight, and left a message. She'd come across a quote that struck a cord with her: "If somebody stands in the light, and does not give it out, a shadow is created." She's been looking into Kabbalah lately, and found this on a web site about the subject. As I said last night, any spirituallity is good spirituallity, and she's on a path to find some sense of purpose, so I wish her well. She'll get there, and I'll be there to help if she needs it. It turns out she reads my blog (but for some reason never comments) and thinks I'm a saint. I'm no saint, and I've felt lost too (I still do sometimes). I wasn't going to write tonight, but just in case she's reading, I wanted to reenforce my point that I love her, and she needs never have fear of talking to me. The "shadow" is a part of us, little sister; we are darker, stronger than most, and though it may make us feel alienated, we are not alone. I love you.
Empty Headed
Last night I stared reading Vivianne Crowley's The Way of Wicca, and I'm dissappointed. I was expecting the usual "wicca 101" babble, but not like this. I'm not one to piss on people's beliefs, I think that ANY spirituallity is better than none, and I could even get past the "all pagans are wiccan" stuff, but I hit the end of the road when she started saying that people are drawn to witchcraft because they liked Bewitched (yes, the old TV show), or because they felt like witches. That's not spiritual, it's pop fashion. Bullshit, I say. I've decided to read some more in hopes of gaining something other than eye sprains from rolling them or a headache from beating myself with the book because I feel I should be punished for even buying such crap.
Tonight is going to be a slow night for me mentally. I plan on having a beer, watching an episode of CSI or playing Still Life (an intriguing murder mystery game in which I play an FBI agent hunting down a serial killer, where I get to use luminol and dust for fingerprints), having a bath and going to bed.
Diane's talking about going to Callgary tomorrow after work, to visit a friend. I don't recall her ever going on such a long trip by herself, but I have faith in her. She's a stubbornly cautious driver, so she should be alright. I hate not being able to get a hold of her though.
Anyway, to sum things up (because I'm feeling cerebrially retarded
), book bad, game good, girl go on trip.
Breezes
Harmony is a funny thing. I have some sense of it now, in a way I never have. I feel more or less at peace with myself, more open to things around me; a guarded empathy. Trynn and Tali are no longer fighting, Lan is present (the other day I daydreamed what it would be like to run down a rabbit and eat it), even Brant is there, bracing the whole thing against the mundane day to day influences of work and dealing with people. I'm feeling balanced. But also inspired, hungry for new knowledge.
I went for a walk after work. I've been staring into the woods everyday to and from work (it's a 33km to work), and miss walking in the trees. I saw a park the other day, not far from where I live, and decided to check it out. There are paths along a sparsely treed park and a murky creek that runs through it, but when I sat down in the grass on the shore, closed my eyes and listened to the water rush past and the wind in the braches around me, smelled the sweet honeysuckle that grew everywhere and felt the earth beneath me, it was gorgeous.
Along my walk, I found a stand of birch trees, and explored them. It came to me that since I was planning to make a wand sometime, a birch branch would do wonderfully. I found a recently broken branch, about the dimensions that I was looking for, broke it in a couple of spots and could already feel the energy in it. It will be perfect for the purpose, I think. If I get my shit together, I should have it complete and ready for dedication for August 1, Lughnassadh. It's a sabbat associated with water, the west and the aging God and Goddess, and birch has correspondence to water, healing and protection. All I have to figure out is how to dedicate it, how I want to adorn it, and where I plan on having my feast :)
Never Mind
Back in Fort Mac. The weekend went entirely too quickly for my liking. I spent some of it putting up baseboards in the bedroom (until I started getting angry and Diane took my saw away), saw Fantastic Four, which was better than I thought it would be and at the same time, not as good as I'd hoped. Oh, and I solved my keyboard problem. The only thing now is that I have a little american flag on the top right of my toolbar. Fuckin' americans.
I was on the road for four hours today, thinking, listening to the music in my head, plotting and scheming. I had an interesting discussion (because all of the conversations in my head are interesting) about magic as energy. Magic is not one form of energy, I concluded, but several; there are varying types of life magics, that come from the green, growing things, as well as mental magics, that come from the will. But there is also inanimate magic, found in stones and water. I have to explore and develope this a little, but I thought it was worth noting.
I've also formed a sort of peace with Tali and Trynn. I've decided that both are willfull, and conflicting, but both have purpose. I've also come to the conclusion that having secrets is a good thing; power in perception. Having said that, I'm having a pretty good day. I got my bog oak runes, I brought some new books for which to read and research, and I'm content.
Cloudy Skies
Hello from my very own computer, in the basement of my Fort McMurray residence. For those of you who hadn't already guessed, I got my ibook today. Sonja hates me already, I can feel it, but I'm a happy man :) I can't figure out this keyboard though. The apostrophies and perentheses aren't where they should be. I'm puzzled, but muddling through.
Other than that, I don't have much to post. Diane seems upset about something, but she won't tell me what. She doesn't want me to come home tomorrow night, but wants me to wait until friday. Also, she didn't want to talk on the phone. I hate being away at times like this. I wish I could talk to her. So, I'm going home tomorrow anyway, because something's bothering her.
Deprivation (Twin Sonnets)
XXI
By dawn, the senses still murked and slow,
And reason rings anew the slumber'd head,
Resolve is fresh and plans to thus lay low
Those baser shifts when springs one fresh from bed;
But day's weary toil doth batter the will
And so by eve's rise, and the lighted moon
Doth climb, and sweet night's mantle doth fill
Between the shadows which again reune,
That visceral lust doth come creep my thoughts
And the beasts that stalk come to greed and glut
And hunt and tear the resolve, and so rots
The gate that deprivation would keep shut.
The lycanth mind of man by moon doth change,
The drives of man and monster rearrange.
XXII
I am renew'd! Speak not the "lycanth mind",
For beast is only beast if man makes him.
What doth thou in my grey, grinning jaws find
That does not already enter the rim
Of thy uneasy scope? Do my yellow'd
Eyes shake thee so, set thee quaking abed?
No beast stands erect, seeking so hallow'd
Pursuits, as are found in my noble head.
So hide thee then, though find you not devils,
Nor demons come at midnight to eat thy
Weak, slumb'ring flock, nor other dread evils
That come amassing out the darken'd sky.
Seek you not the monster to so impound,
Experience life as the soul has found.
Sonnet XX (or so)
What murmur, what soft swollen song has come
On floated censures of fresh fragrant air?
Who's spectral hand thus guides my mind to some
Light garden's path of sights and scents so fair?
Low whisper'd words move blithe amidst my mind,
With each the heady tickle of blood wrought
Back slow to limbs unused, is such I find;
With each the pang of mislaid life is brought.
"Come Love," she sings, and steady warmth doth fill
My soul, expounded by my shallow breath
As I anticipate her gentle will,
And shed that webbed shroud 'twas wrapp'd in death.
Oh sing, sweet muse, for thou were sorely miss'd,
And fill these hands, this soul, this mind thou kiss'd.
Writer's Wood
First of all, I'd like to appologize to Sonja. I phoned her last night and we talked for a while until I became too deliriously tired to speak (the word is "dedication", Trent), and even before that, I didn't speak too much. I'm not a talker, not most days. I love writing because it gives me time to think out my words, to think about what I'm trying to communicate. It also gives me time to "enjoy the sights" as I write. Communication for me is like a walk on a wooded path. How much time you take to explore the sunlight through the spruce bows (ideas), trace the tree roots that interlap and cross over the path (experience), analyize the wild flower and foliage growing along the path (details) make for a richer, more worth while experience that lead from one end of the wood (the concept) to the other (the conclusion).
As soon as I finished writing that last sentence, I walked outside of the warehouse and came within two feet of a fox. She was walking across the drive in front of the warehouse, and she stopped and sniffed the ground and continued on her way. Interesting....
Todays' Rune:
Gebo -Gift
Relationship, unexpected good fortune, patnership. Could be reuniting with my muse, or perhaps the fox was a gift to awaken my wonder again. It's a bright, beautiful day, and many things are possible.
Resolve
I'm in a non-mood today. I feel fine emotionally, but there is no mood. I'm on the edges of something, my spirit leaning one way, my mind the other, and it's in balance. Strange to say that: balance. Perhaps this is the feeling I've been looking for. It's a fragile, teetering feeling, like standing on the end of a pole. It's a nice blend of anxious and calm. Of drive and lethargy.
I'm going to quit smoking today. Again. I have one smoke left, and after that, I am going to be a non-smoker. I have to exercise my will, prove to myself that I have will power. Strengthen my resolve, control my body as well as my mind.
My roommates will be home before me tonight. They were "at the cabin" (*shrug*) all weekend, and to tell the truth, having the house quiet and to myself was great. Too bad I worked late every night. I got home just in time to have a bath, have a drink and go to bed. I can't wait to go home.
Monsters in the Basement
I haven't written a poem for over four years, and it felt good to put pen to paper again. I realize the poem itself isn't of great standard, but the rythme flows and seemed songish. Heavy Shelley influence, I think. Perhaps this new sprung creativity bodes well for me. Staying up late, writing, counting meter, flowing words... it's a feeling I sorely missed.
I also talked to Sonja last night. I reconnected in a lot of ways yesterday. Things are looking up. I told her I'd call her on sunday night, so I can talk to her a little longer without having to be sleeping. I knew today was going to be busy, so I couldn't stay up too late. She reminded me I have to get some chocolate. :)
Tonight the plan is to get to bed early. The shift is starting to wear on me, but I'm on day 12 with only 5 days to go. I don't want to plan the weekend yet, but I'm in store for a new look to the house. Since I've been gone, the flooring in the two bedrooms have been installed, Diane painted the bedrooms, she bought a new bed and an amoire, and moved my bookcases into the basement. That means the basement is officially my sanctum >:) Bwahahahaa!!! I'm going to to the suite downstairs into a library/study, and the bedroom down there into a room for my toys. Change. Lots and lots of change. New armor, new bedroom, new study, new job, new residence (not my home), new computer, new poem....
What Can One Do With a Bic Pen and a Bottle of Chianti?
SongLow by fire light and gentle breeze,
Along the riverbank sat he,
And counted days that seemed to freeze
The blood that flow'd within him.
The branches quaked among the trees
As crouch'd he there on bended knee,
A raven croaked about the lees
A toad croak'd 'bout the shore's rim.
A storm roll'd past at ev'ning tide,
The lightning lit the evening sky,
And summer storms, they seemed to chide
The mourning that did haunt him.
Through the brushes she came astride
A mare that walk'd among the rye
And strolling there along beside
The fox that came to mock him.
And rising up from the fire side
He fix'd his eye the mounted sight,
She knell'd a song that did deride
The gloom that lurk'd within him.
Her notes rang soft about a bride
That came before the dawn's first light,
Who's confidence he put aside
And so his life would be dim.
Enchanted by her soulful notes,
He walked toward the stirring horse
And noticed not the silken oats
That grew among the sage brush;
Nor noted from the shored boats
The river had so swell'd it's course,
And swept away, the river gloats
As streams are want to so rush.
He let her down to soften'd ground,
The fox about them bounced and bound,
Their breasts together so did pound
As the stormheads roll on by.
So there upon the dewy mound,
The storm and river soak'd the ground,
Together they could not abound
Nor abate the angry sky.
So in the morning left he there
And mounted back upon her steed,
And straightened out her silken hair,
And left without a sound.
Awaken'd by the July air,
By river's course and river's reed,
He cursed then that they so did pair,
And he wept upon the mound.
Oh, and I bought these....
They're bog oak runes. The wood, it says, is supposed to be almost 7000 years old. I thought it would be really cool to own something older than most things in existance :)
Knight in Shining Leather
There are scents, like the smell of new leather, that make me feel good. I bought myself a new leather jacket last night, because my old armor was getting worn and threadbare. The only thing I don't like about new leather, it doesn't move. I wear black leather riding jackets for several reasons:
a) they are waterproofed for inhospitible climates
b) they're insulated against cold, and surprisingly heat (very versatile)
c) they make me look menacing when I want to be
d) they last for a long, long time
It's going to take me a while to break it in, but when I do, it's like a second skin. Worn leather feels like it's anticpating your movement. All of my leathers (This is my fourth in 15 years) have been more or less the same jacket, each similar with subtle differences. I'm not very fasion savy, as anyone who's know me for any length of time will tell you. I find something I like and stay with it (a certain style of jeans, plain tee shirts, white 6-pack socks, shoes....). It felt good to get a new jacket, like the passing of a torch, a continuation of a legacy. It's an expensive way for me to clean out my pockets though.
I can't wait to get my ibook. I haven't been to the library for about a week. I need my own time to be able to unwind and work on my own work and relax. Having a bath every night, and being able to have a beer at night has gone a long way to help. But I feel like I have less resources at my disposal. I hate using the internet at work, and I hate working at the library. I always feel so rushed.
