Finally
Well, there's nothing to end February like quitting your job. I gave my notice about 10 minutes ago. I've been offered a job, working at the same site I was at before, working in the warehouse again.
Ok, ok... it's not the same warehouse, and it's not the same company. Oh, and I'll be running the place.
The catch? 14 days on, 7 days off. A week at home. 1/3rd of the year off. Sure, I'll be back in camp, eating camp food, working longer days, being able to go for walks in the woods again, looking for that birch tree I found last year, and hopefully having time to spend on more creative pursuits.
Anyway, that's the big news I've been hinting at. Change is good.
Monsters Revisited
I had a pretty uneventful few days off. I finally found a copy of
Mirrormask on saturday and loved it. Surreal and visually stunning.
I also started working on the basement on Saturday. My plan is to waterproof it this year and build my sanctuary. A toy and games room in the front and my library/alter in the back bedroom. I put up a bookshelf and a desk in the library and carted out most of the old furniture from down there. Physically exhausting.
I also got my books!! I started reading
The Heart of Wicca on sunday night and find it a little "preachy" right now, but the writers make some valid points. My problem so far, and it's a conclusion that I came to a long time ago, is that religion exists for those who hold the beliefs but don't have the capacity to do the work, to become their own spiritual leaders. Sadly, most people need to be led. Now the catch 22: do we, the enlightened few, who complain about the butchery and misinterpretation of our spiritual paths, take the time to teach those who are willing to follow and dispel most of these misconceptions? Or do we turn further to solitary practice or smaller initiate groups? On the one hand, we risk diluting the spiritual experience, of turning it into a mere work-a-day religion. On the other, we remove our rights to publicly brow-beat the uninspired, under-educated masses. Personally, I don't talk about my spirituality outside the constructs of my blogs. I study quietly, and at my own pace, and I practice unobtrusively. I prefer not to have to deal with the inane questions, the "hollywood", pop-culture attitudes, the superstition.
Hmmm. Today's the day... Vera exciting.
Don't Ask
"There she is!" Xanth pointed excitedly out the window, leaning forward and staring up through the fir trees at the large, bright orange moon. It was just starting to wane.
"They're both there," Brant said nonchalantly.
"Both?" Trynn turned his eyes upward, looking at the second, larger moon hanging just above the first. "That's odd." Then the second moon started to waver and ripple, as if someone had thrown a stone into the pond that was the night sky.
"Not really," Brant said, leaning back against a nearby post. "I've seen him dream stranger stuff."
It was commented last night (and the night before, actually) going home, that I've been quiet the last few nights. I'm usually quiet going home, because everyone else is usually either sleeping or talking, but half of our people are on holidays. This makes the van pretty quiet in general. And I have been quiet. I've had some things on my mind lately. Like the equinox. Like Ostara. Like what a lazy bastard I've been. Like wanting more time
*I have the time, I need the drive* to work my own projects.
I need a new perspective.
Blink
Gods, I'm beat. Day 9 of getting up before 5am. Today, tomorrow and I'm off for 4 days.
*Yawn*
....meh, I'm going to hide and sleep. More later.
Beacon
There seems to be tension everywhere and a lack of understanding, compassion. Perhaps I've gotten soft, but I've been reaching for a state of understanding that, although doesn't allow everyone to be right, tries to find where the improper understanding lies. Understand the root of the lie, and it can be removed.
This, however, is very tiring work. No one wants to hear "you're wrong, and here's why". I'm not political enough for it. Instead, people turn on you, you garner hurt feelings and teams of people who not only won't listen anymore, they try to undermine you.
I've never been one to have something handed to me with "fix this" without trying to understand where it went wrong. From analysizing the mistake, I learn how not to repeat them.
"The time has come," the Walrus said....
Family Day
It has been mostly quiet in here so far this morning. I don't like to talk about work, but this weekend has had a strange, subdued energy about it. Relaxed, which is a little disconcerting.
I cleaned my living space last night. I scrubbed everything, including the vent covers and the tops of the windowsills and blinds. I'm preparing a cleansing ritual that will hopefully remove conflicting energy. I'm looking for ways to focus, to bring myself back to a centered, more peaceful state of mind, and this is one way I can actively do that. I'm working on another I can't talk about right now, but should be able to soon.
I also brought Scott Cunningham's Wicca A Guide for the Solitary Practioner to work. It's slow here, not many orders coming in and all the vendors are off to celebrate Family Day.
Oh, and I was called "wise" yesterday, something that hasn't happened in a while.
I am:
Playing KOTOR II and have accumulated over 30 hours of game play.
Watching Raiders of the Lost Ark for the 8 millionth time.
Reading Scott Cunningham's Wicca A Guide for the Solitary Practioner.
Inspiration
Xanth looked back across the table at Trynn. They were both sitting crosslegged on the floor, a small round table, set with cups and steaming coffee between them. The room, Trynn's room, was darker than the rest of the house, lit by candles here and there, and the smokey glow of burning incense. The small window that looked out and over the tree tops below was covered in a thick black cloth. It was both comfortable and oppressive.
For a while, neither spoke. Trynn sipped his coffee patiently, his counterpart obviously struggling with his thoughts. Xanth raised his hand, opening his mouth, paused and reached again for his coffee. Even then, raised to his lips to sip from the mug, he pause and looked again as if he would speak, but didn't. This had been going on for almost an hour.
Trynn sighed and stood up. "Is this going to take all day?" The older one stood and stretched his body, yawning slightly. "There are other things I could be doing."
"I..." Xanth started, "...I feel...." Trynn's head drooped slightly.
"Like you are on the verge of something?"
"Yes," Xanth said simply and sipped his coffee, smiling.
"Hold out your hand," Trynn said, his voice somehow understanding. Xanth cocked an eyebrow but did this. His palm was turned up. Trynn placed a stone in his hand, near his finger tips. "Most days, when inspiration comes, it works as something almost tangible, like the stone. You can grasp it and move it, manipulate it however you need it." To illustrate, Trynn closed Xanth's fingers around the stone and moved him to make a mark in the table with it.
"Now hold out your other hand. Cup it. Hold your fingers together." Trynn went across the room and retrieved a small, open bottle of wine and poured a small amount into the younger man's palm. "Can you feel that?"
"Yes," said Xanth, looking puzzled at the puddle of warm, red liquid in his hand.
"Think of this as another kind of inspiration, or energy. This is what you have today. And when you try to direct it..." Trynn closed Xanth's fingers over the wine, causing it to spill out through his fingers onto the table.
"It is unuseable then to make a lasting mark," Xanth offered, wiping his hand absently on his pants.
"On the contrary, this energy is like fuel. Use it not to create something, but as motivation to study the works of others. You can ingest the wine, where you can't the stone."
I'm on the brink of being inspired, of having the ability to create or do something worth while, but I'm just drinking coffee. It's like holding water. I can feel it there, in my hand, but when I try to grasp it, or direct it, I lose it. So, thanks to my more logical side, today will be a day of study. I will dip my hands in the wines of inspiration and possibly learn something new.
Cheers.
Update
Ok, so with it being a long weekend in Alberta and our email systems being down, I've had a little time on my hands, and a bit of ambition to write. I've written a bit more of the story at MotM, until I lost focus and couldn't figure out where I'm going.
February
"Easy Lan," Xanthesan counseled, rubbing the fox gently between the ears. "It'll come, just like it does every year." The two sat staring out the window at the greying forest around them. It had been cold the last few days, winter's final breaths blowing in at them. At least the frost was gone, Xanth thought.
Lan jumped down and paced back to the table, and then again to Xanth's feet and collapsed in a heap there, sighing. The young man patted the fox again roughly on the back and moved to the fireplace. Xanth took the kettle there and poured out the steaming tea into a large mug. There were little comforts for either of them these days, both either daydreaming of warmer days or better times. Lan almost never spoke anymore.
The scent of the herbs in the mug started to filter into the musty air of the room. The smell of the wood timbers and the fire, old smoke and dust, and peppermint. Xanth smiled softly to himself, moved back to the window and watched the sky lighten as the sun started to move over the horizon somewhere beyond the trees. "Perhaps," he said, looking down at Lan who opened one eye to look up at him, "it's time we gave this place a good cleansing."
Perhaps. I haven't actually performed a ritual since moving into the new place. I've had energy, but don't feel it around me. It's occurred to me to do a cleansing not only of myself, but the house as well, or at least my space. It's been a while since I've felt witchy.
Take a Deep Breath
I'm tired, emotionally, spiritually, physically. Last night after work, I had a bath, made myself a cup of peppermint/lemon balm tea and promtly passed out. I was asleep before 8:30pm. I'm still feeling it a bit, but I also feel heavy.
Big plans, little ambition, and one phone call is going to "make or break it".
I hate those cliches.
Find The River
"Eiwaz, the yew, is in the position of the future. It is a rune of transformation, of facing fears and death. Through the death of my former self, I can be remade. By passing into Hel, I can confront the darkness (of myself perhaps) and learn the mysteries hidden there. Learning wisdom that can't be taught, learning through experience. This isn't a new concept to me. I generally face whatever stands in my way, living through hardship, learning from it and being better because of it, leaving behind many "former selves". However, change for me is always dramatic, full of upheaval. I very seldom emerge from change the same person. But maybe this is the "fear" I have to face. Perhaps in not becoming something completely different, but by reintergrating myself, bringing together my past selves, my legacy and combining that with magic I can be a whole spirit, instead of several fractured ones.
An interesting read. I'll have to revisit this to see what has progressed."April 17, 2005In anticipation of my one year blog-iversary, I've been rereading old posts, trying to discover exactly what I've done with the passed year. I want to discern if there is some measurable change that I've endured, some growth, or something. Reading a whole month of my life at a time is interesting. Then I saw this post. It follows the first use of my rune set, and it stood out. It has been 10 months (tomorrow) since I posted this, and I can pick out a little of this remergence. I've cycled through many of my dominant mindsets, even created some new ones, and been through a great deal of inner conflict over the course of the winter. But with spring immanent, I feel a "deepening of the river", so to speak. I'm cooler, more fluid. I'm not seeking to seperate the elements anymore. Instead I've turned to feel them in conjunction with one another, within me. Will this hold? I don't know. Does any of this make sense? Probably not. I have a fascinating feeling in me today.
I can't wait to go outside.
Oh, and as an interesting aside, it was +10 C on the weekend and this morning it is -37 C. I love weather :)
Whose Idea was This?
....fuckin' 4:30am....
Conversations
Spring is coming!! I've seen it everywhere this weekend. The bluejays are back, along with some other yellow birds I saw, the poplars are starting to colour in the trunks (I've noticed the bark darkening, yellowing), it was gloriously warm....
And on some conversations I've had the last couple of weeks:
CM: What's on your necklace, Trent? (Trent untucks the pentacle from his his shirt, CM gasps) Are you a nazi?
TW: What?! How the hell do you get nazi?
CM: Isn't that the nazi star?
TW: No. It's not. (KS enters)
KS: Who's a nazi?
TW: She saw my necklace and thought I was a nazi.
KS: Why? What's on your necklace? (Trent untucks the pentacle again) No, that's the jewish star, isn't it?
TW: That's right, I'm jewish.
CM: That's probably why I got it confused, because of the whole nazi/jewish thing.
And then there was:
"You should be prepared for the worst."
"I know." He looked out the widow, watching the grey sky lighten by degrees.
"It's going to hurt like a bitch if you do all this work and then she still tells you she doesn't want to go to Greece."
"I know." He paused again, staring out the window, spreading his fingers out infront of him on the desk. "I just..."
"You deserve to have someone there who is excited for your goals and who encourages you. Tell her how important this is for you."
He thought about this, not just now but before, and he rationalized it, like he always did. That would be impossible for most people to keep up. "Maybe it's me," he said, not explaining his thought. Realizing how he sounded, he smirked and stood up, pacing to the window. "That sounded bad. But it's just not easy because everything is monumental to me." He sat back down. "I just want to go outside and climb a tree."
I've got verse rolling around in my head, incubating. I suspect that by the end of the week I'll have a new poem. I love this feeling, being on the verge of creation, holding the nothing and deciding what it could be...
I am:
Replaying KOTOR II and just finished repelling a merc assault on Khoonda.
Reading Spider-man & Black Cat: The Evil that Men Do #6 by Kevin Smith. 3 years in the making, and really not that great.
Listening to Black Sabbath's Dehumanizer
Thursday Morning
Home day has lost it's spark since I've been driving back and forth between home and Fort McMurray. The traffic sucks, so I generally stay an extra night, leaving Friday morning at about 7:30am. More daylight for the winter driving and almost no traffic. But everyone usually goes home, so I have more time to just sit and relax, drink my esso brand coffee and rock out to random iPod. I also get to schedule a massage for tonight. WOOO! Best news all day.
I had a strange dream this morning that I remember alot of. There was a black cat the followed me that everyone asked if it was a dog, there was a wine bottle my sister broke, a case of beer that I broke, a co-worker that answered his door with full frontal felacio from a woman who was only recognizable by the back of her head, and my ex-boss wandering around in a ballcap and a really loud hawaiian shirt, looking for money. Strange stuff.
What else..... Oh, the rune today....
Today's Rune
Dagaz: Day
Seems to follow the progression of the last couple of days; hagalaz, eiwaz, dagaz. The storm, the transition, the dawn. I'm looking forward to whatever is in store for me today.
I am:
Reading Green Lantern #7 and 8 (Hal and Ollie together again)
Listening to Fall Out Boy (which I bought on a whim from iTunes)
Plotting, scheming and experiencing an overall sense of mischievousness.
Distraction
To take my mind off my current dilemma, here's a poem that I'm particularly proud of:
Invocation of The Muse
From whence doth thy rage spring, sweet Euterpe?
Where once thy whispers lilted honeyed on
The tongues of many who sung thy tribute,
And flutter’d softer than the night moth’s wing,
Now thy harmonious tunes discordant
Fall to the mists below thy secret home.
Hath unforgiving Jove fetter’d thee there,
As Prometheus too was constricted
Unjust for his love of humanity?
Say not that thy delicate hands hath been
Forever remov’d from the golden lyre
That once hath rous’d men to sing thy worship;
Or even that thine own song hath thus soon
Been silenced, thy lips muzzled by his hand
In his jealousies of thy affection!
Speak but once if this be true, and I would
Risk Jove’s ire to shake the heavens and thus
Awake thy kin, revealing that dark plot;
Or might I smite that hand and remove thy
Distressing encumbrance, thus freeing thee
To sing again and bring light to our hearts.
Nay, over much dost thy father love thy
Soft refrains, thy sweet melodies, and would
Yield that lot in keeping thy song silent.
Or, gentle Muse, hath thy voice grown harsh and
Thus nigh reticent through long years still mourn’d?
Dost thou weep again the loses of thy
Most favoured children, fallen too soon?
Rise, dear one, and thus silence thy anguished
Cries; let thy songs be heard again in this
E’er darkly age. O light thy bower’s eaves,
And bring hence thy lyre, and sing thy greatest
Of strains; let thy favour’d yet have new voice
That we here might know thy beauteous form,
And to thine honour mend thy shatter’d heart.
O! Cast off thy ebon robes, shed away
Thy mourning garb and command thy ladies
Bring forth the brightest of gowns, that might still
Outshine the winged chariot of thy
Fair brother, Apollo, and deign him sing!
Come thou hence from that lonely hall and walk
Again the brooks and fields, the woods and haunts,
O! Take to wing those skies and wave from man’s mind
The somber veil that thy hush hath assumed.
Yea, that most somber veil that hath fallen
At thy absence and, like the toad by night,
Made thy children’s songs cease to thence be sweet,
So seemingly bereft of thy music.
Sing that thy symphonies will be heard here
And echoed by the hearts and minds of man;
Reunite the soul and sense, so by that
Ancient craft, this sprite might uplifted be
And share in joys lost to these darken’d years;
Sing that thy voice might sound within the ears
Of those lost bards and waken them from that
Long slumber by the banks of river Styx,
(Whose waters more than seven times hath passed)
And bid them thence to remember thy tunes,
And join thee in thy most melodious
Of hymns; O! Rouse thy issue most favoured!
Send me the sparks that light the universe!
Those unknown spheres that unfold to mine eyes,
The countless worlds unseen, unheard, unfelt
By many mortal unapprehending mind;
By those fires, let me glimpse what thou hast know
Of what was and may become of this plane
And those misted by the unbelieving,
Imagineless souls that haunt those listless
Hours forsook by stars and the chastest moon;
No longer veil the tales within the great
Hunter hid, nor bear, nor any within
Thy lighted realms. Unfold thy starry hand
And hold bare the accounts that thou didst share
To the ears of those still unnumbered.
Have I not ears that thou might’st whisper to,
Nor tongue that might yet sweetly sing thy songs?
Have I not hand and pen with which I might
Script the ages thou couldst tell of? O! Hear
My plaintive hymn, for time presses short my
Years, and still I have much to work. Leave not
My stone to read “This and the dust beneath
Are still his greatest offer unto man.”
Rather let them say, “His lyrics brighten’d
Our darkest day, and reacquainted our
Souls' sweet music with the void there afore.”
Thus, O gentlest Muse, my humble gift
Unto thee is mine ear, my tongue, my hand,
All else thou might’st need to walk again
The lowly realms of man; stray soft Ida’s
Lofty halls and mantle thy tender strains
Upon the streams and trees and hill and mount,
And rest not lest Nature’s entirety
Revels at thy coming form, and bows low
Unheeded for weakness at thy beauty.
&^%$&*@!!!
FUCK!!! I'm a little emotional and irrational this morning. I discussed going to Greece last night with Diane:
"I'm excited about going to Greece."
"I don't want to go to Greece."
"What? Why not?"
"I can't afford it."
"So save up. We're not going until September."
"What about going to Hawaii for christmas?"
"...you're right I forgot about that."
"Besides, wouldn't you like to go to England and take a train trip? Maybe go to Spain?"
"....."
"When we go to Europe, I want to go for 6 months."
I feel like I've been kicked in the gut.
This isn't over. I'm letting this one go until I've had a chance to do some more research. In the mean time....
Today's Rune:
Eiwaz
Change, transformation, death. The right of passage. This one seems auspicious this morning because of the rune I drew yesterday (hagalaz: Hail). The storm has come and beat down the crop (it feels almost literal), but the time for change has come.
Flying
Two new posts at MotM!!! Not what you're expecting, but I thought it was a good idea...
I'm working with a sense of energy today. It's that very familiar charged sense I get, that inspires me to move in awesome directions. I don't have an outlet yet, but I know it isn't too far off. I'm more relaxed and confident, more energectic. I just have to tune the focus, sharpen up the senses... I feel like.....
Fire and Ice
There was a slight pine scent on the air as Lan lifted his head and sniffed. The ground was cool under his feet, soft, the mud squishing up over the edges of his paws. Here and the there, patches of snow found refuge, still shaded by the shadow of the trees around the forest. Everything here was cool and damp, and still a little musty from the long winter. The first rains will wash away the traces of winter, he thought. The first traces of green were starting to bud in the new plants and the birds were starting again to populate the bows of the trees. From different directions he could here the trickle of run-off streams that were winding down the paths. Everywhere the earth was starting to shake herself awake. Between the warm sun filtering through the trees above him and the coolness rising up and out of the ground below him, Lan felt the powerful forces coming together to fill him again with energy and he hopped a little, laughing, renewed.There's an interesting idea....
Dawn
I feel like writing but I can’t think of anything worth while. Rather, I can’t decide what to write about. I’m fairly certain the act itself will unfold the creative spark I’m feeling, if only I can focus long enough to embark. The long lull of winter's last days are interesting in that regard; the sleepiness of the mind starts to shake off. I feel like a bear, slowly waking from a hibernation.
I'm getting tired, as I always do at about this point in the shift. Friday morning will find me out of bed by 7am and on my way home. So, only 5 more days to go.
... That’s really all I have to say.
I am:
In the middle of watching a three hour video conference about the company's annual review.
Reading Parts 10, 11 and 12 of the Spider-man: The Other crossover.
Wearing green for the first time all winter.
Thinking about my next tattoo already.
*Edit* It was only three hours for the video, but it took all day to watch. I just finished watching it at 3pm.
Slow Tingle
“What a couple of days. I've been from one end of the galaxy to the other and returned feeling.... Feeling's a good for it. The equinox is here, the sun is shining, blue sky, my eggs aren't painted and I don't care. :) I'm in a goofy mood though. I've been across the board, emotionally, lately. I'm sorry for those of you who had to witness it. I tend to flop in extreme directions and spiral away until even I don't know what the hell I'm thinking. I know the question on everyone's mind is, "is he getting professional help?" No, he's not. Just ignore him and it will go away.”
Sunday March 20/05
I’ve been feeling creative lately, but I’ve been too absorbed in “my winter mind” and the changes in mood that I’ve been experiencing. I re-read my blog from March this morning. It’s been a year, almost, that I’ve been blogging, venting, smashing my keyboard. I’m starting to see the cycles of my mind now. It’s really very fascinating.
Anyways, creative. It always starts with a vague mental picture and moves to the hands after these long lulls. I'm working on re-doing my action figures at home, complete with scale city battlegrounds. Like the working of the soil before planting. And again, like last spring (it’s not spring yet, but it was warm enough for me to walk outside in the sunshine without a coat), I’m feeling feral. My mind is moving more simply.
As I sit here, quietly smirking to myself, I can’t help but feel the cool rise of energy up my spine; the darkness returning; my confidence coming back; my disinterest in the petty triviality of the people around me.
I am:
Playing Fatal Frame II: The Director’s Cut (because they do that with everything now)
Reading Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons
Reading Iron Man: The Inevitable #2
Dreaming about being outside in the grass, hunting mice
Back, mother fuckers.
Look Out Below
I've been mildly insane for, oh, the last three months. And by insane I mean emotional, paranoid, confused, broken. I haven't been myself, and through conscious effort, I've been trying to break away from that. But these things always take time. Think of a boulder rolling down hill. The thing cannot simply be told to roll up again and it does. The momentum has to be decreased. I feel like the guy infront of that boulder, bracing his legs, trying not to get crushed under it. And sometimes it feels like my body is going to break in two.
I'm trying small things to change my life. I do simple sit-ups and push-ups in the morning, as I roll out of bed and onto the floor. Not many. Just enough to start my blood pumping. We're doing group stretches in the morning at work before 7am. I'm talking to Diane more through email during the day. I'm trying to eliminate some of the alienation I'm feeling at home this way. I'm making more time for myself at night.
What the fuck happened to me?
Frost's Heave
I can feel it, somewhere in the ground, stirring in the back of my mind. Growth and change are coming, but I'm not convinced I'm ready for it. I'm at several crossroads right now, and making a wrong decision in any of them is going to be messy.
I may have an opportunity to go back to work at home. My old boss quit his job and I'm interested in taking his position. And not. It means putting me back in the forefront of customer service, dealing with the public and having to be responisble for a group of people involving budgets, margins and profit. But it also means being home, having more time for myself, working for a company I know is a good company.
I've tried to talk to Diane about it, but she doesn't seem keen on it. I could be wrong. I still get confused by her, alot. I feel guilty about not being around, about not having had a conversation with her in a long time, but sometimes I get the feeling she wants it that way. Sometimes. Others....
There is an energy coming. Some vaguely familiar feeling of strength.
Sun
I have alot of nothing important on my mind lately. I'm eagerly watching out the window for the increasing daylight, waiting for the snow to melt and the greening to begin. I miss spring more this year than in others. I've been waiting to be able to go to the park and lay in the grass, to smell the leaves and the wind, the rain, the thunderstorms, flowers and all the growing things. To sit and watch the water run.
On an unrelated note, I'm working on a spell. I'm trying new things with runes and I'm still working out the details (how best to but these to use). But this is more or less it:
This should ideally quiet the paranoid part of my brain.
