pagan

Moving into the new year…

Yeah, I know, we’re into the middle of February. What a whirlwind already.

I’m in that phase where things are just moving, the way spring is supposed to. Roots extending down, shoots getting ready to break ground – if they haven’t already. As much as I want to slow down, I can’t really. Taking time where I can, but I have a deadline for both my office and my grove. My mind is craving knowledge, but at a rate that it can’t be satiated or retained. And my pocketbook can’t keep up, to boot.

But that is the thing with nature and the cycle of seasons. There is only so much of the cycle that we can control, but it’s important to notice when the rivers are flowing smoothly and when they are not. If it’s smooth and continuous it’s important to stay the course and make gentle changes as needed. If it’s blocked or rough, taking into consideration whether or not the course is correct, and if not making whatever corrections you can to ensure you do not lose sight of the path. Including whether getting out and choosing another path entirely.

It’s a process I’ve been working on. My mind generally, these days, can operate like a golden retriever on a hot, dry day with the water dish being filled. It’s a side effect of our society at large. Constantly with our need to be doing everything at once and yet nothing, at the same time. The constant pull away from what I need to do and the questioning of whether or not it’s worth it. But at the same time, it shows me my boundaries and ideas to spark another avenue – when the time arrives.

A little over a year ago I rescued a Southern Flying Squirrel. My cats started bringing them in 2 Februarys ago, in their baby stages. The first one came in on the back of its momma and only lived a couple of days. I didn’t know much then, but I learned quickly.

Our next one was Tiny One. She was old enough to have fur, but wasn’t quite old enough to be romping around without mom. So we kept her warm, fed her, and soon she was tormenting the cats thinking they were playmates.

As she grew we eventually gave her one of the spare rooms in our house. Her and her sister (another that the cats brought in, but was intended to be released once the hard freeze was over) were constantly heard jumping around the obstacle course we created for them. Eventually, Little escaped, finding some space between the drywall in the closet to the attic. From there she chewed a hole and out she went.

Tiny stayed and moved back into her bachelorette pad that consisted of a towel folded over a clothes hanging rod filled with pillow stuffing. She loved June bugs and thought cicadas were the most prized delicacy when we were able to catch them for her.

In Little’s escape, another squirrel showed up and was caught up in the live trap we put up. Since there was a hole, there was a good chance she was going to come back, so into the room she went. Call placed to have the hole blocked and in that time, we suddenly had 4 babies join the family. So momma and kids stayed. Tiny eventually became the awesome aunt until it was time for them to go outside.

A couple of weeks ago, I started repeatedly catching another squirrel in the trap. So, same thing occurs. Call placed, waiting on the person to come patch the hole. But this time Tiny didn’t get to play the awesome aunt. We don’t know what exactly happened, but I found her unresponsive and I’m choosing to believe it was natural and not from a fight between them. I’m overwhelmed with grief, as during the short lifespan she was an anchor as I lost 2 cats that I’ve had for the last 20 years. Her squirreliness and love of climbing all over me, hiding nuts in my hair and all over my clothes, brought some kind of peace to what I was feeling.

Watching her learn to fly was even more awesome. Her and Little used to chase each other up my legs and onto my shoulders where they would jump and fly off to a shelf or the floor, then turn around and run back up. Just like kids who discover sledding or the most awesome slide in the world. The same went when I brought in her favourite bugs or nuts. You could see the absolute joy in her being when she realized what was in front of her.

I’m trying to come to terms with everything. Part of me is saying that this is just nature cycling, as the other squirrel has yet to return to my attic, despite the hole still being somewhere. The fact that it was on Imbolc when I found her and our running joke was that she put out in squirrel mail that we were awesome folks who were willing to take care of them during winter resulted in additional guests during the cold snaps.

But you never know what’s going to worm its way into your heart. And it’s hard to think I can’t walk into her room and have a face hugger coming at my head from the closet anymore (it was her favourite thing to do to us when we walked in). Or holding one of my cats and watching her jump on the cat’s face and sniff her then bound away.

I take solace in the fact that my cats no longer kill them and bring them in. My oldest brings me the baby babies (last one had just gotten its fur, but only lasted a couple of hours). But since Little, they haven’t brought any in that were harmed.

Out with the new, In with the old? Or is it a case of Old is the New new?

I’m watching the world right now, political warfare, mythical retaliation, and my brain trying to wrap my head around all of this.

The volcanoes erupting, particularly in Hawai’i due to corporate greed tapping into things that they refuse to admit even exist – Pele. It makes me think back to the tales in the Irish Book of Invasions, how various peoples immigrated to the land and how long they maintained sovereignty was determined by how well they took care of the land. Of course, that’s Ireland and the volcano in this case is home to a Goddess who would probably be more of a friend to the Morrigu. The more I read about what has been going on there the more I look to the land guardians who have been fighting the corporate takeover of the land. They have been offering their prayers to let Pele know that they are with her, even though their strength has been limited by governmental interference.

Watching them gives me hope. As it does in the States, where a rising tide of our First Nations is bringing more attention and gaining momentum to their charge to the land here. For us, it is a similar issue – power. Literal and figurative. What I see to be a further insult is the “environmental groups”, namely the outdoor companies that have a stated purpose in line with what the land guardians want but seem to want to ensure that they don’t partner together. To some, it’s called privilege, mainly of the white kind; I’d go a step further and say it’s mainly a “Westerner” privilege – of the Roman of old variety. This idea that humans are not caretakers of the land – charged with working in balance, but sovereign over the land to force the land to conform to us.

What I’m starting to think we’re seeing is us being put in our place, thanks to the more over-zealous segment of our population who follows that thought process. Mainly those who are under the ill-formed thought process that they control everything. But I do think we’re hitting a point where this will all be unveiled and the tales of old – Ragnarok, the Rapture, etc, are about to reveal what they meant.

I don’t view this as a bad thing, when taken into the bigger picture. Scary, sure. But in order to evolve, old structures have to be taken down – like in a forest. Trees have to fall, decompose and prepare the soil for what comes next. Fire has to clear out the under-brush so there’s room. Same goes for governments and society.

Evolution…

Things have been getting pretty hectic here since the beginning of the year. But in a good way. It’s been giving me time to reconnect with my roots, clear out the old junk that has been holding me back from jumping off the cliff, and make room for all the really awesome stuff that has been percolating in the background.

It’s been a good clearing, as I’m finding the ideas that I’ve been waiting for are finally starting to bubble to the surface. How I want the back yard to look, what I want the house to look like, what my office should be and finally….what my job will be! That part is the most exciting, because it finally allows me to bring every thing I do in life together into this one little bundle.

I’ve always known that I’m that person who will always be a step behind, but it’s never really bothered me that much because I’ve found that I always arrive when I need to do so. Guess that makes me a little wizard in the Tolkien vein. 😀

As things progress, I might talk about it more here, even though I do want to keep things a bit separate. Maybe I’ll hit a stride where I finally don’t care again and can fully open up. But it’s hard to explain how awesome it is, when that part that you thought was dead inside – buried in thick concrete and hidden for all time – to crackle back to life. To hear the muse that you had pushed aside, to become something that someone else wanted you to be, to forgive you enough and trust enough that she’d begin talking to you. And to finally hear the gods of old start to sing their songs with you. The awakening that we all search for, cry out for, and seek every single day.

But then begin to realize that it’s a process of a lot of small circumstances and details that add up.

I walked alone along a star lit path.
Frozen air kissing my face.
The lonely call of an owl echoing across the trees.

“Give in,” it says.
“There is nothing here for you.”
A rustle of the leaves.

The chittering of night squirrels.
“But there is…”
“Just listen.”

My eyes close.
Breath smoking away from my lips.
Snow begins to tickle my forehead.

Everything must die at some point.

Who knows….

I have no clue where I’m going to go with this entry, maybe no where. I feel the need to retreat from this world, or at least this country. I’m proud that we’re finally waking up and the catalyst to do so was the result of the curtain being removed from around the land of Oz. And as always, there is a but here…

It saddens me, in all of this, to watch voices be silenced because of disagreement – even if they are of an opinion I disagree with. I’ve pretty much hit the point where I don’t feel I can even talk to most people, rationally, about anything these days. So I sit in silence, occasionally giving a thumbs up, going about my business, and keeping my head down. It’s not worth it anymore and I’d rather spend my time obsessing over philosophy and the trends of nature. But this is a trend. Chaos must precede order, death must come to make room for life. Just as the wildfires and floods cleanse the land for the smaller trees and flora that need the ash and space to grow, so too must the world of man exist in similar fashion.

There’s an extent to which I look forward to the cleansing this brings to the socio-political world, but it’s a question of who to trust in the aftermath and whether or not they are what they seem. There’s a lot of fog around me these days, physically and metaphysically. These days, it makes me wonder if it’s a sign of things to come and whether the idea of being a secluded mystic is more the path for me than being in public. And the more I contemplate the idea, the more life seems to work for me. It also seems to be the direction the universe is sending me.

2016…

3 Hawks circled our house this morning. With the rain subsiding, all the smaller birds returned, including a previously unseen red-mohawked woodpecker (no, he work a speckled suit, not a blue one). I also smudged the house, and am still smudging it. We had hoped to spend today finishing up the things we started yesterday, unfortunately Pastry is sick. Possibly from inhaling some of the drywall from yesterday’s demolition.

I feel confident on this next year, not necessarily that it will be stagnant, but that it will be busy – good busy. I think that most of last year was pretty much dedicated to wiping out a lot of old stuff. Old relationships that were unserving, job situations that weren’t beneficial, and some other stuff. There is stuff that I wish wasn’t ending, but such is the way of nature. I’m hoping that this is moving towards my “moment” where life finally smacks me upside the head and I finally listen to it and suddenly the river starts to flow.

We also need to start taking time out to be social. Whether old friends or new ones, though I’m leaning towards new friends. I’ve never really had a social circle, just a few friends that I’d go do stuff with. It’s easier in HS and college when you’re all kinda in the same place. Adulting is a bit different, with schedules and distance and all that stuff. Makes that whole being social thing kinda hard. But I do like the idea of meeting new people, even if it’s the result of people I already know.

I’m also contemplating re-starting a pagan discussion group. There’s not a Borders to host it at, but I’m sure something can be figured out if the interest is there. Just ideas that I’ve been tossing around.

Evolving again…

I can feel it. Certain things are starting to set me off, others I’m just done with and don’t miss at all. I’m still curious as to which direction I’m being pulled, but I’m going to allow it because it’s time. I’m watching for the signs, noting when there is synchronicity and letting that be the lead. It’s spring and it’s time for change and growth; fall and winter are about letting things fallow, give them time to settle in and root down. Now is the time to till that all up and bring it to the surface.

There has been a lot brewing over the winter, in all facets that I’ve seen. I’m finding that the masks are starting to dissolve and people and ideas are being shown to be what they really are – masks, costumes, all to make others feel better, or feel like the reality is something more like silk when it’s really cheap rayon. These lenses we look through are just tinted, but in a manner that much is hidden and less is seen. But at the same time, the cry is there to keep the true nature hidden. Because it’s comfortable. It’s safe. New masks are being made, new costumes designed. All to keep those that seek comfort from taking a good hard look and going deeper into what really makes up the foundation.

Chaos, order. You can’t have one without the other and when their cyclical nature is halted you have stagnation. Stagnation breeds disease and death, which starts the machine back up – without the part that was causing the stagnation.

Thoughts and ponderings….

Sitting in the room, listening to Led Zeppelin (Pastry got the recent offerings) and reading the remainder of The Upanishads that I haven’t finished. The further realization that I’ve fallen further from the spirituality tree. But I’m turning around. The original thought was to see about spending a week up at the Monastery for a time of silent contemplation with my journals. Then the idea that I think I want to move my yoga program (meaning just me, unless any other instructors want to get in on this) to a donation only set-up. Not necessarily in the realm of seeing if it works, but in thinking how things were done at one point and how we’ve gotten away from that – namely, providing a service for what people could afford. My parents would totally knock me for this, as would some of my friends. But as I sit back and think about it, my life has been a series of financial blunders and worries because of the fact that I put money first. As I’ve started to not do that, things have grown. When I start fretting, things taper off.

I honestly don’t want to live a deep material life. I like my small house, I like my few objects (even though I need to get rid of more of them), and I love my vacation experiences. I like waking up late on Sundays, listening to whatever Pastry feels like putting on the table, and hanging out with my cats or going for a hike in a forest. I like tearing down walls in my house and creating new things. When Spring fully arrives, I will be back out on the patio enjoying the mornings and evenings.

I always joked that I would never know what to do with money if I ever made more thank $20k a year. And I still don’t know what I’d do. Most would go towards my retirement account, maybe save up for that VW camper trailer I want and put some towards a recycled shipping container house in the mountains.

I just find it amazing, thinking about the depths I’ve sunk to, sometimes. Trying to dig myself out, because I don’t trust that it will happen naturally. But as I told my mother today. Trusting in the Universe is a true test, namely because humans inject themselves into the equation and tend to screw things up.

Need to turn that around again. Though, it puts me to the point where I have to decide whether I’m going to be a part of the world, or if I’m going to step back from it. I’d like to be a part on my own terms, but I know that’s a large request. I just hope that opening myself up in that way, regardless how it plays out, is in some manner a benefit instead of a detriment. It also means I’ll have to let go and not attach myself to those who cross my path. Not expecting return from those who are more willing to take than give, the one time it is allowed. And walking away from those who wish to gain by stepping on the backs of others without offering a hand up.

Gearing up…

Tomorrow is the first of “big days” in my treatment. The teeth come out. The positive is that they’re crowded already so it won’t be much of a gap. I’m already talking funny because I have too much stuff in my mouth. But that’s ok. I’m dealing.

I am finding my anxiety is getting worse, which is weird. It’s all money related because this shit ain’t cheap and the Drs will only deal with insurance in the manner of sending it in. I have to pay out first, insurance reimburses me. Seriously fucked up shit, but I can’t blame the Drs, I don’t want to deal with insurance.

The best part, I’m starting to get back into my head on the deeper topics. Been rolling around ideas about wisdom and truth and how they play out in Biblical stories with that cast of characters. I can’t remember the movie that sparked that thought process, but I’m glad it did because I need to ponder that those things. I also need to get off my ass and email/call my elder so we can start our monthly sit-downs. I have ideas on where to start, but I find I work better with guides, and that gives me a tribe connection – which has sorely been missing of late. Bit by bit I’m disappearing. I don’t know why I feel like that, because I’ve almost always felt like the loner. Even in groups. Some connection that I just can’t see, always out of my reach or sight that prevents me from actually feeling like I am really part of a group.

I just don’t get what I’m missing from that equation. And it hit me hard yesterday. I’m making my way through the Robin Williams part of my Netflix queue, and like 20/20 hindsight of David Foster Wallace, this manner of death casts a shadow on how I interpret his works of late. Yesterday, I watched World’s Greatest Dad. Given the issues he was dealing with in his real life, it made the words stick out all the more. Did he choose that script because of what was going on in his head? Was that his call out for help? Did everyone miss it because it wasn’t in wide release? But the best part was when he told everyone off, walking into the natatorium, stripped down and jumped naked off the high dive. That’s kinda how I feel. Except he was casting off society to join a small group of outliers that shared a love of horror movies and odd psychosis. I don’t feel I have that. Or maybe it’s just the burrowing season of winter that throws me into my cave for self-reflection. Or maybe just perspective of that, and it’s all just a temporary illusion of the season.

When I’m out, I don’t know why, but it feels like I’m walking into the shallow end of the kiddie pool. I think I’d rather be at the meeting of some philosophy club discussing the deeper meaning of Kierkegaard. I would like to enjoy the kiddie pool, but I think my brain is screaming out for exercise, too. Need to figure that one out.