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I haven't yet written in my paper journal this morning, which feels quite uncomfortable, actually. I've renewed my promise to myself to write in it everyday. This morning I was supposed to have a yoga student come at 7am but he canceled due to reasons I don't fully understand (nor care to, excuses, excuses) and I've found myself somewhat at loose ends all morning. This is also the first day of my Moon Lodge (a good reason why I didn't object to the student canceling at the last minute) and I allow myself to follow my mood swings pretty much wherever they lead me on these few days. So I haven't written in my journal. I feel a wee bit cranky, and I'm going to indulge in another cup of coffee (which will probably increase my cramping but bugger it, y'know?) and an old, beat-up novel. Tomorrow I will go sit in the garden for a few hours and watch the plants grow (the tomatoes are taller than me now, and the zucchini is growing so fast I think it might start climbing the pomegranate tree, which is in flower and GORGEOUS) and attempt to ignore everyone but my sweetie, who is good at being quiet and meditative. That is an excellent way to spend a Moon Lodge day.
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I've just started a Ravelry account, and linked to this here Livejournal, which reminded me that it must be time for my seasonal posting. ee gads. It's spring, and I'm very much hoping that my energy will improve with the weather. This has been a challenging winter for me and while I am grateful for lessons learned, I could also use a bit of a breather. With Sunshine. Speaking of sunshine, it's getting on time for the GARDEN, and I am very very very excited about growing vegetables (and some new herbs) this year. I find gardening just as exciting as knitting and quality fantasy series. Hee hee. Hugs to all, and may spring and sun bring us all hope and renewal! |
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Not early morning, not by a long shot. I'm supposed to be getting up at 6 these days, but today I was still in bed at quarter to 8, and I've only just had breakfast. I'd like to say that I've been doing something terribly interesting in the intervening hours, but really I've just slowly been sipping coffee and watching my Sweetie delight in burning playlists for all his family members. He's only just learned how to use Windows Media Player and the shiny hasn't worn off yet. It's still windy today, the feeling of cold grey storm in the air and I want to curl under a blankie and sip scalding hot tea. I do, however, have work to do before that. And after all, baking, which is on my list of things to do, is almost as good as snuggling under a warm blanket. This is absolutely my favorite time of year...I love the energy of Harvest, of All Hallows, of the depth of the darkening nights. The last few days have been a little emotionally rough, I'm so much more sensitive these days, and the wet wind that used to be my muse is now taking me deeper and deeper within to experience my own Truth without turning it to paper, to Art, to Poetry. It is a new sensation for me, and I am sometimes slow to accept change. My love to all as the moon stands dark and the Mystery abounds!
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God only knows where my brain has been these last...several weeks?...couple of months?...I'm certainly not the one to ask. I have been working, which is a good thing, and I love my work, which is a better thing, but sometimes the inner work, the energetic, spiritual type work, just takes over and I, for one, have been both invigorated and exhausted by it. In short, my memory of the last couple of months includes a vivid inner landscape but I couldn't tell you many event/facts about how I spent my days. So here's the basic situation: I decided quite a long time ago that being a witch/priestess was the most important thing in the world to me. I thought about it for a long time and I got a tattoo on my arm to make sure I wouldn't forget. I had NO FREAKING IDEA what I was getting myself into. Since then I have made a number of life decisions, great big ones, based upon my commitment to the spiritual path, and again I find months and years later that the full impact of those decisions is still unfolding in my life. A couple of days ago I learned that the man to whom I lost my virginity died in California last week. I hadn't seen him in years, didn't expect to see him again, and yet I am mourning him in a profound way. Him as a soul and something that he represents...a part of my innocence, perhaps? Or a part of the mundane life that I have left behind? It's a melancholy time for me, and also a sweet one. I feel the burgeoning energy of spring-moving-into-summer and I am enlivened by it. I look at what I have been learning and I am delighted by it. I look at the life that I have chosen for myself and I am slightly awed by it. I am also mourning the life, the lives, that I have left behind in the choosing. The human experience is an endless source of fascination for me.
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Although my day is going well, and I had a lovely lunch with a long-lost friend, I am sad about my family today, and it feels heavy and thick. It's the kind of sad that's mixed with anger. I don't know what to do about the situation and it is so hard for me to not know. The sadness is distracting me from work, making it hard for me to think, and it adds to the list of things I don't know how to handle in my life. So I send this little note out into the world...Remember when talking to people you love that they love you too, and the words you choose to speak to your loved ones hold great power. Be careful with your words, and try not to act or speak with anger until you've heard the other person's perspective.
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This year, I feel a stronger pull than I've felt in years to follow the seasons' energy from the yin of winter to the yang of summer. I find myself in communication with people that I had lost track of two or three years ago when I disappeared from my previous life, and I am cautiously optimistic about re-integrating the old me with the new (which could honestly be described as an even older me, but I won't get into philosophical details this morning). I'm grateful for the opportunities I'm finding, as I look for them, to expand my understanding of the energies in my life. I'm also grateful for the continuing proof that there are people in this world who can approach difficulty with humour and flexibility...that is truly beautiful and a testament to the human spirit or some such.
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And somehow, as I face the oncoming spring with its expansion and growth, I find it appropriate. Sister I wish I could tell you this You who have been my sister It’s all love isn’t it? The last time I saw you we drove But I want to tell You must still
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I have been reading others' enthusiastic posts about the springlike weather here in Maryland. As a native of New England, I am surprised every year by how early and how quickly Spring arrives here. I empathize with celtwoman's experience at the greenhouse/nursery. I am even a bit envious. However, I did succumb to the spring fever by spending Easter Sunday weeding the fertile earth around the firebowl and the rosebush in the meditation garden. As it was a challenging day for me in other ways, I found the contact with the earth very soothing and grounding. I look forward to working more in the gardens, and perhaps coaxing a few vegetables to grow among the medicinal herbs. I am also hoping to put up my own calendula and st. john's wort oils this year, but the st. john's wort bed took quite a hit last summer with the terrible dry weather. I am grateful for a rainy spring, the earth felt good under my hands last Sunday, and I find myself daring to hope for a more fruitful summer than I have been able to expect for a long time.
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This is the first day in more than a week that I have felt capable of clear thought. That is normal, and ok, and my work schedule is designed to accommodate such a cycle. So today I celebrated my return to solar energies by reading two books: The Wise Wound: Menstruation and Everywoman by Penelope Shuttle and Peter Redgrove, and Living in the Borderland: The Evolution of Consciousness and the Challenge of Healing Trauma by Jerome S. Bernstein. It is to be understood that when I say "read", I mean read chapters slowly with a highlighter and flags, not read like a novel. I have just finished editing a worksheet for my Franklin Covey notebook system (I won't bore you with the details) and am feeling confident about my re-entry. Today I have learned that cyclical energies must be appreciated, not fought against, in my life.
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So I wrote a little poem: Last year's leaves are blowing
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A Liberian co-worker of mine suggested that I watch this and I have to admit, it was cute. It's pleasing to me to be able to find anything Bush does at this stage of his presidency charming or cute.
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I'm struggling with myself because I said something nasty about someone in my life behind her back and I consider that sort of thing below my standards. I used profanity, too...strong profanity. And while I stand behind being really disappointed in this woman's behavior and wishing she would change it, I'm also ashamed of myself for indulging in backbiting. And I feel sorry for the friend who had to hear it. It may seem like a little thing, but in this Priestess training I'm going through, it is essential to embody what you would teach, and there is no detail too small to worry about. I wouldn't consider backbiting a small thing, anyway... It would be much easier to remedy my feelings of shame if I could speak directly to this woman, but alas that is currently impossible, and I must figure out how to integrate this lesson (and let it go) on my own.
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having created this account, and getting enough friends on it that they might notice me not posting for months on end, it seemed that I should at least send out the "I ain't dead" post until I find time to sit down and post something more intelligent. I ain't dead. Thanks for caring. :) I am working, knitting, taking the deep dark journey of the soul, and tossing around some ideas for that book I've always meant to write. Love!
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Terry Pratchett tells us that the midwinter holiday is about snow, and blood, and the rising of the sun. I just re-read Hogfather (I've been overdosing on the awesome fantasy books of late) and am in a dreamy, otherworldly mood. Although I should be getting my butt to the grocery store to get the ingredients for gingerbread cake for the Solstice gathering tonight, I am instead staring idly out the fogged up window (my humidifier broke, so I'm boiling water in a stock pot on the stove so's I can breathe in my apartment) and thinking about doing some lazy yoga. In the spirit of Hogswatch.... I BELIEVE!!!!!!!!!!
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And yet here I am. I woke at 4:30 this morning to take Tom to the airport. He's there now, all safely checked in and I am home again with too much coffee in me to go back to bed. With the choice between too caffeinated to go back to bed and sleepy on the Parkway I am content to curl up and read a novel for a few hours till the rest of the world wakes up. Getting up was less difficult than I expected, perhaps due in part to the shiny new alarm clock I got from Hammacher Schlemmer. It coaxes me awake with gentle suggestions. Tee hee hee. Every little bit helps when you object to morning as much as I sometimes do. I actually think that rather than writing any more here I'm going to turn all the lights off and watch the sun come up. I haven't had a chance to do that in a long while. It's a lovely morning, cold and clear and properly December-y. I shall enjoy a quiet day at home assembling bureaus from Ikea. Cheers!
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Gods help me I should never have seen this. Share my pain: http://www.artificer.co.uk/homepageh.ht
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It may be early for such a declaration, but it feels like the right time to share that I have not had a cigarette, or any sort of nicotine-like substance, since the evening of November 2. I have not strangled any of my loved ones, driven off a cliff, or otherwise turned into a monster. I have, instead, turned into a NON-SMOKER. I'm still a bit twitchy, and there are still times when I want a cigarette RIGHT NOW. My father actually assures me that the wanting a cigarette never entirely goes away (he quit twenty or so years ago). I'm not sure whether or not that is comforting. A tiny bit of wisdom I've gained from this experience: If you don't want to stop smoking, you won't stop. When you are ready to stop, you'll stop. The tricks and the gimmicks and whatnot are just window dressing. They don't change how you feel about yourself or about smoking cigarettes. I had to do a lot of soul searching to be able to approach this decision honestly. I had to decide that who I am today isn't a smoker, and that I don't have to be held back by the decisions of who I was 15 years ago, when I first decided to start smoking. And here I am, 31 years old and still slightly bemused by the life I find myself living. Definately not boring.....
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Which may seem obvious, but this one layed me out something fierce, and I'm quite cranky about it. It may seem obnoxious to complain about something that happens to everyone, but this really took me by surprise. And I'm too much an herbalist (or something) to push myself to start running around again until this cough stops trying to kill me every time I get up and walk across the room. Tea is good. ARGH!
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So I made myself a livejournal account. Funny thing that, 'cos I'm not a huge fan of sitting in front of the computer for longer than I need to. But it seems like the sort of place where one can spout, or expound, or just babble, and discover that there may in fact be people out there who think the same. We'll see, I suppose.
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cranky
contemplative
sad
awake
peaceful
hopeful
cheerful
busy