a website of sorts?

I’ve been thinking on creating a website. Mostly cooking information, since that seems to be where my strengths and desires lie. Perhaps an online grimoire, etc.

In other news, am sadly either bored or depressed. More to follow, but with all the snow around here, it’s just the same old, same old.

garden emotions

Even though winter has several more months (rest of January through late March at the earliest) to go before it’s finished, already I am planning out a garden. Although a large part of the area around the house has been reserved for vegetable gardening there are a few places where I could probably plant some herb patches.

We also had a lawn for when us girls were younger, and we’d play badminton on it. Nothing like playing badminton sans net or court when the wind is blowing towards you. The trick, of course, is to play with the wind blowing in your direction- you get some awesome shots this way. We also used the lawn as a temporary water slide (complete with a water-logged tarp as the actual slide), obstacle course (human and horse), bunny run, and Graveyard (for the party game).

Now that we’re all older, I can’t help but feel that the lawn could go. Then again, it’s not doing anything. There’s never been pesticides on it, nor fertilizer, nor whatever you put on a lawn to make it greener. It’s never even really been weeded, and I think the patches of clover and dandelion testify to that. It’s been cut with a hand-pushed mower (punishment tool for El Dictoro), and watered only when it rained, or when we were playing with the handmade sprinkler Dad made for us. So the lawn is fairly green, environmentally, but still there is something that I could do to make it better. I just know it.

creative urges (and the disasters left behind)

So far the entire weekend (apart from a grocery run, my regular chores, taking the Muskrat places so she can continue her “social butterfly” spree, and helping on the ranch) was spent creating different things. First I decoupage-collaged a box which will hold a care pack for The Other One, and after that I made two bracelets (both with random beads on red wire) and a necklace (hematite and silver plated seed beads). After that I doodled, created a booklet for The Other One (on stress tips, etc) and then painted the backgrounds for two different series. Although I’m not that good (no training, still in the practice phase) I’m happy with things so far.

The beading especially took me by surprise this year. I never figured on taking up beading, but since we did it down at the centre I’ve been crazy over it. So far I’ve just made necklaces and bracelets. I’d like to take a stab at doing some bottle cap pins with Jones soda caps, or something else in a reconstructive phase. Why not? It seems that my altered journal phase has sort of come to a plateau- as in I don’t seem to be doing a whole lot of it lately. Ah, well. It’ll come back, and the materials are useful in other places.

However, all this creative birthing has left my space in a mess. I meant to do some clutter control earlier, but like all procrastinators I ignored it in favour of something more fun. I think the blocking thought there is that I don’t want to lose my childhood things. I don’t want to give away my favourite childhood books, my novels from when I first started collecting fantasy titles (just about the entire Darkover series, and Valdemar, and so on and so fourth) since I keep rereading them. I don’t want to toss my rock collection, and I have no idea why, since I’d just put it outside. Yet I’m resistant anyway.

It’s a bit ironic, because the mess is driving me nuts, and of course it makes it harder to be organized. Yet I don’t want to do the work to clean it. I guess that means I’m lazy and unmotivated! So my space looks like The Scourge camped around in it, and in the meantime that means my energy is being stifled, which in turn means this creative phase won’t last… so enter the Flylady.

modern domestic goddess?

The Flylady, for those of you who’ve been living in a cave the past few months, is a lady by the name of Marla Cilley, avid fly fisherlady and general organizational mistressmind. She has this system of organizing things and a no-nonsense way of speaking to the organizationally-challenged person, like yours truly.

To me, the Flylady system is almost like organized religion. Consider:

Organized religion requires a leader, or set of leaders. Flylady has…. The Flylady.

Organized religion requires a “bible”, the Flylady requires a Control Journal.

Organized religion requires ritual and ceremony, the Flylady required “routines”.

Organized religion requires special jargon, as does the Flylady.

Organized religion has a list of rules that you have to follow… like the Flylady’s 11 Commandments. (Rule 1: Keep your sink clean and shiny…)

Organized religion usually has an altar, temple, or place of worship. Flylady has the sink and the house…

So I think it’s clear that Flylady is like a new Mother Goddess of Cleaning! All Hail Marla, She Who Inspires and Teaches! I will be using your system to enable my space to be clean and free of clutter! Only then can I repaint and renovate it- some of which has been waiting for years and years now.

What gets me is that the Flylady says (and I have paraphrased her words in a way that makes sense to my worldview, so don’t go ahead and start quoting me here) is that clutter creates negative energy, because you think about it in terms of “why am I so lazy? Why can’t I just move my arse and clean up my shit?” And those thoughts create stress and anger and frustration, which in turn creates said negative energy, which in turn gums up the works of your living spaces. So you end up feeling frustrated and crazy all over again, because there’s negativity inside and outside, as well. That negativity also works to depress you, and so you don’t move because you think, “why bother? It’ll just get messy all over again, who cares?” so the mess just piles up. It’s a nasty, self-generating cycle, and no wonder people go out and pay lots of money to have professional organizers (modern-day exorcists?) come in and clean up your messes (physical and otherwise, since all the organizers on TV seem to do a bit of counselling as well). So really, it’s not that you’re lazy. You just keep spinning your wheels and getting no-where.

I’ve just spent five minutes cleaning up Bookcase No. 1. So far I have tossed five rocks into the snow, collected two bags of paperbacks to take down to Ye Olde Book Nook, streamlined some other trinkets into smaller boxes, and tossed some other things. Looks like I’ll have some decent materials for my next round of hanging shrines. I also discovered what a lot of my clutter looks like: half-used sketchbooks and half-altered journals.

I HEREBY VOW TO NOT BUY ANOTHER SKETCHBOOK, NOR START ANOTHER JOURNAL, UNTIL I HAVE FILLED THE REST OF THE ONES I HAVE. So I will get started on finishing the Lazarus Journal (so named because most of it is cut-and-paste from sketches I did on loose computer sheets). Also in the mix is finishing up these ghost roads of mine, which is a combination journal/lyric book/sketchbook.

rashes and shrines

My visit to the doctor was notable for three things: the first being that right away I noticed that the good doctor herself was a striking woman. She wore the most beautiful and cheery sari, and her aura was extremely noticeable- lots of awesome, healthy energy. She did the usual symptoms list, and then she touched my forehead- my sinuses, to be exact. My scalp went all tingly and I said, “oh, wow.”

The second thing is that officially I have a bad case of sinusitis (again- how predictable), coupled with a bad cough. Par for the course, and she prescribed some amoxicillin for me. Standard cures of bed rest, chicken soup, and lots of lot lemon teas on the side are also in order.

Thirdly, I was declared unfit for work for the 15^th and the 16^th. Today, the 17^th, will be my first day back at work. I am grateful for the bed rest, since I do feel rested, but enough is enough- the centre will fall apart if I leave it too long! Ha! Nah, the real reason is that I can’t handle too much home time. I don’t always agree with my parents, so the best thing for me to do about that is to avoid them. (Not that I don’t love them to pieces, I do, but unfortunately there are things (and not all of them spiritual matters) that I can’t really discuss with them, because they don’t understand it. That, and I don’t want to be asked to go help fence in the snow. Wail.) The best way to avoid my parents, of course, is to simply go to work.

So as soon as this gets posted I’ll drive down the old dirt road, then onto the highway and then into town. Make a left and a right and a left, and park (or attempt to- I’m pretty careless with the parking), and I’ll be there. Today is dinner and a movie night, and we’re making some Chinese dish (although it’s not really Chinese, but it has the word “Chinese” in it. Sigh.) and I’ll do all the directing, since I’m the sick one. Heh- with me out of the culinary action, everyone else has to step up and do their actual parts, and there’s been a complaint or two.

not the ugly one

However, before I head off to work I’ll have to do some major work on my face. I’ve picked up a nasty rash on both of my cheeks- it’s red, itchy, and there are small rough bumps everywhere. I phoned the dermatologist lady, but she’s backed up with appointments. So I went and washed my face with some goat’s milk soap, hoping that will help. I also put on some Life brand tomato face lotion, since my face feels really thirsty. I’ll also use my makeup kit to do some serious camouflage- but I’m worried, although Mum thinks it’s a combination of stress and the amoxicillin.

It’s embarrassing as hell, because of course everyone noticed. I look bloody awful, is what, and having even strange ladies whom I held the door open for at the post commenting on it and asking me if I’m okay didn’t help much. I can’t WAIT to head to work and have N/S notice- they’d be just the type to sweetly mention how I look like hell, and is there anything they can do? Like my work, perhaps? Beh.

Last night just after supper a friend of my mother’s phoned. Her name is Alberta, and she is the proverbial busybody- nice on the outside, but inside you can bet it’s like sticky poison. Anyway, she phoned to talk just to me. Wonderful- what now? Computer troubles? A new face cream or weight loss book? Old lady pants for me?

Actually, it was none of the above. My mother’s nice friend called to tell me all about her new financial advisor, who is 22, male, good looking, a whiz on the computer, and whom she spent her financial meeting discussing me with him. “I said you’re a beautiful girl, smart as a whip, and you have a great personality.”

Which is nice, but she left out a major detail- which “Mark” will probably notice as soon as he sees me, since you can’t help but notice the plus-size impressiveness that is me. Anyway, “Mark” is a “nice Catholic boy” who is looking to meet a nice (presumable Catholic) girl.

Which I’m not. Nice, or Catholic. Yeah, I’m a girl. But I’m not interested, and especially not someone who sounded as dull as “Mark” did. I’m sorry- he’s probably a nice person, but the idea of a financial advisor and nice Catholic boy didn’t really turn my crank. But I couldn’t explain to Alberta that only sweetly romantic pagan boys who don’t mind my size (and who, preferably, have long hair) are going to be the only ones who I let inside my gates of Ishtar. I’m sorry, but I’ve had it with this hick town and the stupid hick men who populate it in drunken, possibly meth-addicted droves. Sooner or later, I will escape this hellhole.

So it was basically a thanks, but no thanks kind of situation, and then my mum asked if I was a lesbian. (Old, long, and boring story.) Again, I said I’m not. Which I’m pretty sure she’d know if, you know, she’d paid attention during the entire K./M. debacle.

After that, I went downstairs and began to plan out my element shrines. My first shrine will be to the element of air, and (appropriately enough, since I’m connecting air to intellect, wisdom, and all matters of the mind) it will be on my bookcase:

I have lots of crow-and-grouse feathers, so these will feature in abundance, along with my fairies and my chimes. I’ll have to pick up some light blue or yellow candles to place in strategic locations, and, since I like to travel (at least on the page, since I can’t afford the “real” kind) my collection of fans will also be displayed.

I have resolved to place a charm bag at each shrine. The current shine I am working on (air) will feature a charm bag composed of light blue (or yellow) felt, filled with bay, caraway, clove, rosemary, and sage herbs, and either citrine, sodalite, or turquoise stones inside.

I have already started a hanging shrine, and this is a great craft for kids (as well as those of us who collect little trinkets!) to do on a rainy day:

Hanging Shines

Gather together some hang-able trinkets, like old jewellery charms, ancient (or fake, like the kind I bought from Michaels) skeleton keys, translucent beads, lonely earrings, holed gemstones, even feathers and nice key chains work. Add lots of beading wire and a key ring. You could probably also have ribbons if you wanted, although I didn’t.

Anyway, the general idea of this craft project is to string, hang, or tie your little treasures and trinkets so that they all hang together in one jumbo colourful mess. It’s perfectly fine for them to get tangled up, since the whole point of this project is the random displaying of the trinkets. It’s a great way to display all those little things that you hold onto, but don’t want to throw out. Additionally, it’s an easy way to use up all those “extra” beads, if you happen to be a beader.

Once you have your shrine (and what is the shrine to? Why, your life, of course. Hey. If the Goddess is in all of us, can’t we have a shrine to ourselves, as well?) you can pretty much hang it anywhere. Currently mine is hanging off of a fake plastic day-glow “dragon goth” skull my sister thought would make an appropriate Yule gift (?) but when The Garden is up and running I will probably hang it in there.

Not to mention it is a handy way to casually display your clutter. Go, me! Since I am trying to clear up some 23-odd years of random life “stuff”.

The Water-Bearer

I’ve been thinking on ways to reduce my water usage, whilst at the same time enabling me to enjoy my daily two-shower ritual. Yes, you read that correctly: I have a shower in the morning, and one at night, and I’m sure I’m not alone in that. My reasoning is that I have a horrid fear of being labelled as a “stinky” person, even though I never sleep with any humans, and I’m certain the cat and dog don’t give a damn how smelly I get.

Also, at night my shower is to take away the stress of my working life. I just turn the lights off and close my eyes (the hallway light remains on) and in the almost-darkness, I let the water flow over me, as hot as I can stand it. And it sloughs all the pains and frustrations and negativity away.

That said, two showers a day is more than a bit much. So my answer: sponge baths! My grandmother, before she moved away to lovely, sunny Kelowna, gave me an unglazed water jug-and-basin set, along with an antique washstand. The washstand currently holds- well, to be honest, it’s mostly a junk-holder- but I want it to hold the jug, the basin, and a ritual washing kit.

I will fill the jug with hot water, pour some smelly oils into it, and then pour a bit of water into the basin. I will then take a washcloth or sponge (I have yet to decide) and bathe myself with it, letting the water flow onto some old towels that I’ll just hang-dry after (I mean, how wet could they get?). I’ll kneel undressed, or half-dressed, and the water will slide down my back- much like the scene in Firefly where Inara does her bath. I didn’t come up with this one on my own!

Anyhoo, this will give me the ritualistic nature of water-as-stress-reducer, and will enable me to save a bit of water. At the same time I expect to increase awareness of my body, and perhaps move into a cycle of understanding and respect, just like it deserves. Oh! After the bath comes the ritual anointing. Hey. This sounds kind of familiar. Now all I need is some glaze (uncoloured, since I like the antiquey look of the unglazed pottery).

And then I’ll be all set!

Have An Experience

I have just spent the last several minutes hacking my way through a nasty cough. I suppose that the doctor’s appointment can’t come quickly enough for me. Until then, the “medical procedure” is fairly standard: rest, chicken soup, followed by lots of Buckley’s Cough Syrup. Ah. Good old Buckley’s. Makers of the worst-tasting medicine (and favoured torture device of Canadian mothers of ill Canuck kids) that ever hailed from the good old RW. (RW: red-white. The flag. Also stands for Royal Waste, which is what many English Lords believed happened to the money they put into pioneering this rocky, occasionally fertile land. Also stands for Right Winger, which is the political state of mind for many Canadians.)

Anyhoo, I cough and cough until I can’t hardly breathe anymore, and it feels like I’m trying to bring up a lunch. And then I cough some more. So it’s off to the medicine people on Monday to see if their technobabble can bring me up to snuff. Until then, has anyone noticed how “too much Buckley’s” is an explanation for a drug-induced high? I’d babble about the mysteries of the universe as revealed to me in the pool of brown goo, but then I’d have to kill ya. It’s a great thing this is the weekend, because I am definitely under some strange and weird influence.

Speaking of the strange and weird influences, I have been failing to take heed to a message from the universe. First of all, those who know me know I “misplaced” my cell phone. (And that I firmly believed that this was the result of a high-tech conspiracy involving the cats, the crazy old man next door, and the basement butter spirit.) Since then I have “recovered” my phone in the black hole that has been locally termed “the file cabinet.” I have no idea how my property ended up in “the file cabinet”. I am only glad to have it back.

Without it, though, it seemed as if my life fell apart. I missed two appointments last week because I either slept right through my alarm (and was 45 minutes (and too late) late for them) or have had to cancel due to the prairie storm that is wreaking havoc in the area. I’m sorry, but once the AMA decides it’s not safe to drive a road then I don’t drive it.

So anyway, after that I have been experiencing distress lately at night. Distress of the unable-to-sleep kind. To the point where I have gotten up, rotated the mattress (no easy trick to do from the floor by oneself amidst a pile of clutter) and put down fresh sheets- to no avail.

Every so often the energy of this little closet hole becomes so stagnated and stuffy that I literally can’t function until I get it cleared up again. As if I needed another sign, I received my horoscope for this week:

Sagittarius

“Cosmic forces, being primarily spiritual in nature, rarely coalesce in such a way as to actually encourage you to shop till you drop. However, this is one of those inside-out moments in eternity when tapping in to your buyological urges can become an acute meditation on the meaning of your life. Here are a few questions to guide your quest. How do your possessions control you? How do they inspire you? Do the objects you seek to own usually encourage you to be more adventurous in seeking fresh experiences, or do they tend to serve as substitutes for seeking fresh experiences? How does the way you spend money reflect your ideas about what life owes you and what you owe life?”

All of which are really great and awesome questions. You can get yours too from Free Will Astrology, if you want to.

Anyway, this advice synchs up with the January 8-12 readings from PED (Pagan Every Day, check out the first Friday Night Review for details and BUY THE GODDAMN BOOK ALREADY!), all of which focus in some way on physical (and spiritual) housekeeping.

See, I am a materialist person. I like to buy things, particularly books (ask anyone- my room is literally filled with books) and scrap-booking/altered art/journaling supplies. I have made an effort in the past months to curb this disturbing trend but it is hard. Particularly the book thing, since every time I turn around I am struck by the desire to READ THIS BOOK. And this book! And this one, and that one, and maybe those three- ooh, here’s a series that’s really good, let’s pick them all up…. and so on and so forth. (Please note that yes, I do read EVERY book I buy. Sometimes in the very day I buy them.)

I think at the heart of the matter is that, for so long, I have used books as an escape from real life. Nothing like coming home and disappearing into the world of Valdemar for a while. I live and breathe to read books.

I always thought I was an unbiased person. I try very hard not to be, the same way most (decent) white persons try hard to not be biased or prejudiced or racist. Working at the centre forced me to come to terms with, and admit, to a bias. Not against the creatively-abled (thank you to Tim and Henry from the centre for this one, it is a positive term that I will always use from now on!) but against people who can’t (and for whatever reason choose not to learn how to) read.

I have no qualms if you can’t read. Understand that. Lots of people in the world can’t read, but I believe that it is a changeable thing. However, the people who can read (and who don’t- these are called “alliterates”) and the people who choose not to (note I didn’t say “can’t read because of their L.D.) learn how- you guys I seem to have a problem accepting.

For me, reading is a gift and a pleasure and a matter of spiritual ecstasy. There is nothing more cosmically orgasmic (without actually having an orgasm- sorry, M., if you read this!) than curling up on the bed with the dog and the cat and a good book.

Books can be a good tool. I’m very good at the book research, a Hermione at heart. However, books can also be a crutch, and this is something that I am having trouble learning.

There comes a time in every Wiccan practice where you must let go of your books. Some of us do this rather quickly, preferring to not-read and instead learn from the natural world. Then there is me (and others, I hope, like me) who grew and thrived on reading books. People who studied the primary sources quoted, and who delved as deep as the research sections would let them.

We have trouble letting go of books. For me, once it is in a book then I have a desire to trust it as if it were true- no matter how many times I have been proved otherwise. I know in my HEAD that all words written can be lies, but my HEART insists otherwise. Hey. That rhymed.

Wicca, unfortunately, is not a religion about books. You can’t just read something and then say, “hey, I’m a Witch! Or Wiccan! Or ___(insert faith here!)___” None of the pagan religions seem to work that way. Hell, none of *any* religion seems to work that way. We’re all too focused on the Experience.

See, I believe Wicca is a religion of experiences. Something happens and you are drawn to the path. From there, you experience other strange and mysterious wonders. You experience Experiences, in other words. You have to live and breathe Wicca like you’re swimming in the world. It’s not something you can just read.

All though, I really believe the intellectual knowledge helps. It’s two halves of the same circle, I guess, and neither is complete without the other.

So my advice is to turn off the damn computer, put on your boots, and go outside. Splash around in the snow and freeze your ass off just like all the other animals out there. Let the wind blow the stink off of you and let the sun warm your face. Get out there, and go have an Experience.

Trust me. You’ll like it.

Friday Night Review: The Way of the Green Witch

FRIDAY NIGHT REVIEW

Book: The Way of the Green Witch: Rituals, Spells, and Practices to Bring You Back to Nature, written by Arin Murphy-Hiscock, published Provenance Press (Adams Media)

Alright. If you want the short review: this is a beginner’s book on green witchcraft. Although there are some hard philosophical stances in her writing, AMH does her best to bring you a look into green witchcraft as it is currently practiced today. Lots of good recipes and techniques, with a focus more on the practical (and technical in some cases) side of green witchcraft than on the spiritual side of it. If that’s what you’re looking for, then I think this is a good place to start.

Long review: (in which I rambled and then became lost, and then was found again)

Green witchcraft has always been a tricky theological quagmire for me. Is it a tradition of Wicca? Or is it even Wicca at all? Part or nothing? It seems to me that (and I base this on my own readings on the path to enlightenment) green witchcraft used to be seen as a tradition of Wicca- back in the mislead days where “all Witches are Wiccan under our loving Mother the Goddess” was the primary thought path.

It was seen, more or less (and remember this is from the old and outdated and incorrect books that we all read first- things like Ride A Broomstick and Drawing Down the Moon and Wicca by Cunningham) as nothing more than a “branch” of Wicca that you could study. Much in the same way, once you completed the fundamental steps and became an “advanced Wiccan” (which is the stupidest term I’ve ever heard. You’re advanced when you’ve died and gone home. That’s advanced.) , you could learn about Runes or kitchen magic or Feri or Reclaiming.

That said, as I matured (ha!) in my studies, I’ve noticed that green witchcraft has taken a stand and seemed to split from the giant, mothering, Wiccan umbrella. No more do all green witches say they’re Wiccan. Some in fact take pleasure in saying (loudly and often at length- let me get started someday, would you) that they aren’t. They aren’t Wiccan.

For me, green witchcraft is something that one does. It is not Wicca, although you can of course adapt Wiccan beliefs into it. For me it works something on the same “level” of magic as kitchen witches do, and those people who like to call themselves “cunning wo/men”. It seems to fall more on the low-magic scale in my head, simply because it is more focused on the practical and less focused on the Great Rituals.

This concept has thoroughly screwed up my life. Am I a Wiccan who utilizes green witchcraft? Or am I a green witch who utilizes Wicca? Can I do both at the same time and maintain my respectability?

Green Witch, of course, offers no advice for me in this area. Instead, AMH has this to say:

“Green witchcraft is not Wicca…. Wicca is a formal, structured religion which sets out certain tenets and moral guidelines and whose followers celebrate certain rituals in certain ways. Green witchcraft is a non-structured, flexible practice that has no set holidays and no compulsory rituals.” (pg. 11)

So I guess in AMH’s eyes that would make me a non-Wiccan green witch (who on occasion utilizes Wiccan concepts). AMH does say that you can be any religion you want, because divinity is mutable in a green witches’ eye.

This, I get. God (Goddess) to me is not faced. S/He is not a focused Divinity, a Being whose face I have memorized. Divinity for me has always been a blurry concept. I have no Goddess, no shrines to Kali or Artemis or Danu. When I am asked to explain “God”, I usually involve expansive hand movements.

Is there a God(dess)? Of course. Absolutely. But don’t ask me to pin it down for you. God is everywhere (insert expansive hand movement). It is in the trees and the ground and the water and the sky.

Part of my conflict is because a primary influence on me was the movie The Craft and the concept of “Mannon”, which was the elemental Divinity the girls worshipped. In the movie, Mannon (although a fictional god) was explained sort of like this:

If Jehovah and Artemis and Kali and Dadga and Ganesh and Mother Nature and Horus and Thoth and Freya and all the other Pantheon Divinities were out playing a game of cricket on a hot Sunday afternoon, Mannon would be the field they played on, the sun that shone on their backs, and the air that they breathed. It would be the thing that made their hearts beat, made the grass grow, made the trees whisper.

Anyway, that’s more or less what I worship, except I don’t call it Mannon. I don’t call it anything. There was probably a time and a place where this was worshipped before, a time where there were no written words. And no, I don’t mean in Bloody Ancient Sumerian. (A long joke- whenever anything was considered “ancient and primeval” on Buffy, it was usually written in Sumerian.)

Getting back to the point: Green Witch does seem to be a beginner’s book to me. I guess the title sort of explains that. However – and this is a common theme amongst any green witch I’ve ever met- the book does seem to take on a slight “greener than thou” tone for me.

Perhaps of course that’s just in my head. However, like I said, any green witch I’ve ever met seems to have the idea that we’re all greener than you. An ordinary witch might recycle, but a green witch composts her own shit and takes up permaculture.

That bothers me. It’s so hypocritical, like the oil wells who try to green wash themselves. We know you’re dirty anyway, so who exactly do you think you’re fooling? Just as ordinary witches aren’t perfect, so too are there no perfect green witches. We all – and I do mean all of us, yes, even you in the corner with your underground straw-bale insulated housing and your fancy off-the-grid network with parts what came made in a sweatshop- are all environmentally imperfect. We all fuck up in our own little ways.

As the vegetarians like to say, environmentalism isn’t an all-or-nothing concept. You do the best with what you got, and don’t stick your nose down at others who don’t got the same as you do. I wonder how many green witches really do help the earth?

The other part of the book that I don’t like- and this is universal to all books that say this- is the “bless the earth” rituals that go throughout it. Want some wood from a tree? Bless it first! Want your garden to be happy and grow greener than ever before? Bless it first!

This is great in theory- and you ought to do it anyway- but blessing the earth doesn’t seem to help it much. A blessing, after all, is just words. Emotions. Prayers. It doesn’t mean anything much to the tree (or garden or plant).

No. What the earth needs is healing. And not some unseen emotional spell-work-healing, either (although again, that helps.) The earth requires some practical, decent stewardship.

So instead of saying a blessing, or offering some bird seed, study up on the populations and species and peoples that inhabit your corner of the world. Bless them, yes. But make sure they have enough food. Enough water. And yes, enough predators. Take care not to overly disturb the land you walk on. Become a steward of your land, and (since I’m on a topic kick) especially your riparian areas. Cut the diseased and the dead away and let them rot on the ground where they will become reborn. Clean up the trash and shit that you see. Compost, love, and live free.

That, to me, is true green witchcraft.

Faith Crises as Transformation: Part III: Regeneration

This is the last of three entries on faith crises and spiritual transformation. I firmly believe that a faith crisis is an essential part of our pagan faith. As always, remember that I speak from my path and my opinion. It may or may not work for you.

Introduction

In the first entry of this series, I said that I was basing a large part of my beliefs on Demetra George. In her book Mysteries of the Dark Moon: The Healing Power of the Dark Goddess, she discusses cycles of change- she calls them the Stages of Psychic Transformation (pg. 269). I have used her structure as a model for faith crisis transformation. The first stage is disintegration, in which everything falls apart. The second stage is purification, in which we grieve for ourselves and accept our fates.

The third and final stage of the faith transformative cycle is regeneration. Regeneration is the most powerful (energy speaking) part of the transformative cycle. It is the most powerful because we utilize energy in order to recreate ourselves. This part of the cycle is where we clean house, where we shape up and ship out the things in our lives that no longer apply. We battle our demons, confront our shadow selves, and we come to an understanding of the nature of things.

If we don’t learn how to rebuild ourselves, then we get mired in the senseless self-destruction that I spoke of in entry two of this series. Even though it is painful to rip away our old selves, we must do this in order to emerge renewed, and reborn.

If we deny ourselves the power to reform our identities, we place ourselves at risk from other people, and what Starhawk once called “power-over”. To put it simply, we’re rebooting the computer. Now, we can choose to use the operating system that we design (our own personal identity) or we can choose to use the operating system that other people design for us (an identity chosen for you by someone else). However, once someone decides who you will be, they gain all the power over you.

This is not to say that we discard everything from our past. That is impossible, since our past always informs our present state of being. Rather, we examine our past selves and our now selves, and synthesize the two into a third being, the future self. This future self is comprised of the values and ethics and experiences that we have chosen to keep over from our past selves.

This stage might be the stage where you decide to apply for your master’s, or you switch diets, or perhaps take up motorcycle driving. Because regeneration is a re-birthing process, we are able to give ourselves permission to experiment and fluctuate with regards to who we want to be.

It’s interesting to note here that everyone in the world (again – you are not alone) goes through this process on the way to becoming an adult. We shred our childlike qualities, and go through a stage of pain and loss, and emerge as adults in the end.

Another metaphor for the transformative cycle can be seen in the moon’s phases, or you can view it as a sort of living reincarnation. The important thing to remember is to be gentle with yourself, and cling to the knowledge that the process is temporary and will be over in time.

Conclusion

How important is it for people to choose for themselves what to believe? What if that belief is about who they are? As Wiccans, we place (or we SHOULD be placing) a high importance on taking responsibility for our selves and our spiritual learning. “Know Thyself” we say, and undergoing a crisis of faith/cycle of transformation is simply another rung on that latter.

Hopefully I’ve outlined my thoughts on the crisis of faith matter in such a way that I’m coherent. *crosses fingers* I welcome commentary, questions, etc. That more or less concludes my thoughts on this particular area for the moment.

Faith Crises as Transformation (Part II)

Faith Crises as Transformation, Part II: Purification

This is the second of three entries on faith crises and spiritual transformation. I firmly believe that a crisis occurs when your world is challenged. It is part of our pagan faith. As always, remember that I speak from my path and my opinion. It may or may not work for you.

Introduction

In the first entry of this series, I said that I was basing a large part of my beliefs on Demetra George. In her book Mysteries of the Dark Moon: The Healing Power of the Dark Goddess, she discusses cycles of change- she calls them the Stages of Psychic Transformation (pg. 269). I am using her structure as a model for faith crisis transformation, since I believe that Demetra has hit it square on the root.

The first stage of the faith crisis/spiritual transformation is Disintegration. During this phase everything falls apart. This phase is marked by a sudden and often harsh blow. However, if we recognize that change is inevitable, and that we can not hang onto our old selves any longer, then much of our pain during this phase can be eased. Because most of us struggle with our attachments, the first phase can be long and arduous. Its’ gift, however, is insight: into both yourself, and the nature of the world. Once we accept that change has begun, we are ready to move onto the next stage of the transformative cycle: purification.

Purification

The second stage of the faith transformation is one of surrender and healing. Where the first stage challenges us to let go of our concepts, the challenge of the second stage is to let go of our emotions, and to release our pain. Once we have done that then the way is clear for the third stage to begin.

The second stage is marked by feelings of depression, helplessness, and despair. You have lost your old self, and there is nothing yet to replace it. You’re just drifting in the vast ocean, all by your lonesome. You may feel isolated and disconnected from the world, and you may experience melancholy or be pessimistic. You may (as I did) take up emotional eating disorders, and you may gain weight or lose- which is certain to make you feel even worse!

Because we walk around in a mental fog, it is easy for us to step into paranoid or distorted mind-shapes. We may see conspiracy where there is none, or hallucinate or dream frightening images. We may experience panic attacks, and while all of this is part of the cycle, you must remember to drag yourself to a doctor and ensure that your body is in good working order.

We may also sleep more, because our energy is being “stolen” by the transformative process. We may feel like giving up. Because it hurts so damn much, we may decide to throw in the towel and take up addictive substances to numb the pain. It is important during this stage to monitor your activities and what you eat/smoke/drink. Addictive substances include alcohol, drugs, food (mine), sex, and computers/television. You may take up self-harm (also me, yay. Not.) in order to provide an outwards expression of inner pain.

Because there are so many fragile emotions, it is very important- I can’t stress this enough- to take care of yourself. Be gentle, because you are nursing a broken self. A broken heart, mind, soul. See a doctor regularly. Consult with elders and other clergy. Spend time with your family. Phone a suicide line if you need to. Just remember to give yourself permission to get the support you need.

Emotionally and physically, during the second stage you’re probably going to be a wreck. If you’re not, then count your blessings, because you’re pretty damn lucky, in my opinion. If you are a mess then you should know that at least you’re on the right path. Your emotions will probably swing back and forth and you’ll probably feel like you’re mentally ill.

In the first stage, the challenge is to recognize that our old selves are gone. In the second stage, we must grieve for them, and recognize that they are not going to come back. We are never the same again after transformation. Emotionally, our challenge is to recognize and work through our negative feelings. Only once the diseased part of us is gone can healing occur.

Taking Care of Yourself

It is so crucial during purification that you take care of yourself. In that respect, I offer some tips on how to do that.

First of all, you need to see a doctor on a regular basis. It’s up to you to commit to any treatment schedules they provide. You can, if you think it will help. I personally did not, and I think I am stronger for it. Regardless, see a doctor and perhaps a counsellor. This is important because you may experience changes in your biochemistry. Since I firmly believe that your mind controls your health (more or less), I think it might not be unusual to see changes in biochemistry during this phase. You may become physically and mentally ill. Either way, it is important to see a doctor in order to monitor your outward expressions of health.

The purification of your spirit may be reflected in a purification of yourself. You may wish to adopt a cleansing diet/fast/routine, which again is up to you. You may wish to take lots of baths, or you may increase your water intake or take up swimming.

Kate West, in her book The Real Witches’ Kitchen, has some excellent recipes for teas. I will give you two. It is crucial when making any tea, by the way, to use clean, fresh water. Filtered rain water is ideal, if you can get it. (Thank Goddess for the Brita!) Also try to use fresh ingredients. Which, in the winter in central Alberta, is impossible, so go ahead and infiltrate the Spice Rack.

Clear Thoughts Tea (Serving: 1 person)

You can make this tea and use it to drive out distracting energy, and to get on with life. I use it while studying or when I need to write papers.

1 tsp rosemary

1 tsp lemon balm

½ tsp basil

grated peel of ½ lemon

grated peel of ½ grapefruit

Mix in herb holder (or cheesecloth sack), taking care not to bruise herbs. Add ½ a pint of boiling water and DO NOT STIR. Steep for 10 minutes and then remove herbs to compost. Sweeten with honey if preferred.

Body Cleaning Tea (Serving: 1 person)

Use this tea to help support the immune system, and to cleanse toxins from your blood and skin. (I use it for my acne.)

3 tsp chopped fresh nettle leaves

1 tsp parsley

½ tsp lavender flowers

juice of ½ lemon

Mix in herb holder (or cheesecloth sack), taking care not to bruise herbs. Add ½ a pint of boiling water and DO NOT STIR. Steep for 10 minutes and then remove herbs to compost. Sweeten with honey if preferred.

Both of these tea recipes can be used to support and strength yourself during the purification cycle. You may also partake of the traditional Comfort Food, whatever makes you feel better.

Aromatherapies

Using aromatherapy, if that is your bent, can help. Again, these blends hail from Kate West.

To Calm Tension (5 drops frankincense, 3 drops jasmine)

For the Morning after the Night Before (3 drops rosemary, 3 drops rosewood, 3 drops rose)

Emotional Balancing (4 drops geranium, 4 drops lavender, 2 drops grapefruit, 1 drop bergamot, 1 drop fennel)

Sadness and Regret (2 drops bergamot, 2 drops rose, 2 drops benzoin, 2 drops jasmine, 2 drops hyssop)

I like to put blends into my bath, or I mix them up into some Epsom or sea salts and then go have a bath. You can also blend them into some base oil and wear as a scent.

Conclusion

If the gift of the first stage is insight, then the gift of the second stage is compassion. Because our heart is broken, we remain open to other people’s broken hearts. Because we surrender we are able to see that it is our boundaries that create separateness, and once our boundaries are shattered we are more in tune with the universe. From there we can see (and this is the challenge) that perhaps our loss is necessary, although painful, and ultimately we will gain from it.

Once we have accepted and grieved for the death of our old selves, then we start thinking, “okay, great, now what?” The way is then cleared for the third stage of transformation. Regeneration is now possible.

Faith Crises as Transformation (Part I)

Faith Crises as Transformation

These series of entries were spawned by Sara Winfield <link>, and an entry in which she talked about pagan crises of faith. Since I’ve been there, I wanted to examine the idea more thoroughly. To whit, I wrote three entries, the first of which, “Disintegration” is presented here. The second and third entries will follow as I write them.

Introduction

For me, a crisis of faith is something which every pagan goes through at least once. I think it is reflective of our faith as a whole, because we place so much emphasis on transformative change and personal responsibility.

Remember as you read through these entries – and my journal entirely- that all of these entries are my opinion, and my opinion only. I’m not you, so what I say may or may not work for you. I speak as a green witch and as an eclectic Wiccan. I speak from my path and my heart.

A faith crisis is something that everyone goes through. I believe it is a universal and essential component for all religious or spiritual persons. You may go through one, or many, crises of faith. So far I have been through two, and as I write this article (and you go through it) I will speak more about what I went through during my crises.

Faith to me is like a tree. As a person new to Wicca, or paganism, your faith is small, a seed. You are not sure about Wicca. You may have come from a different, more organized religion, and the idea of taking personal responsibility for your religious self may be a huge moment for you. You may undergo a period of time in which you struggle with the concepts of Wicca, in which you may think others deluded or perhaps evil. Don’t kid yourself- some of us are. Nowhere is it written that all Wiccans are great people. In fact, most of the ones I’ve met are oddballs at best, and drug-infested losers who won’t get off your couch at worst. This is possibly the first crisis of faith that you will go through. See, like I said: everyone’s had them.

As a tree, your faith is subject to a little pruning now and then. You examine each branch, cut the “bad” off, and the tree is left stronger and more whole. Demetra George, in her book Mysteries of the Dark Moon: The Healing Power of the Dark Goddess, discusses faith cycles- she calls them the Stages of Psychic Transformation (pg. 269). Since what she has to say applies so well to the pagan world, I will use her structure here. In a faith crisis, these Demetra has identified three stages of psychic transformation: disintegration, purification, and regeneration.

Disintegration

The first stage of a faith crisis is what Demetra calls Disintegration. It is often hailed by a large, unexpected, and often horrible event. Like getting splashed with a bucket of cold water when you were sleeping, the Disintegration phase can be uncomfortable at best. During this phase, we are given a wake-up smack by the universe. Perhaps we lose our jobs, our family, our lovers, our health. Things no longer fit us as great as they used to.

It’s no question that this stage is painful. It’s never fun, after all, to lose something that is so much a part of you. I remember spending a great deal of my first faith crisis in tears, and I ate a lot. Put on a whole bunch of weight that I’m still trying to hack off. I cut my wrists, drank a lot, had unprepared sex, and in general I set out to destroy my life. To say that I handled my first faith crisis badly is an understatement.

I was sixteen. I had just gone from not hearing of witchcraft at all right into studying it. Like many new people, the first thing I did was tell my parents. They were understandably confused, but not as Christian-based-faith people would be. No, I had no lectures about why witchcraft was evil (that came later, as you’ll see). I instead listened to “these people are deluded”, “witchcraft doesn’t exist”, “why don’t you try growing up and living in the real world” – the real world being comprised of Science and Technology.

The worst parts where when I was asked to “prove” that magic – and a Goddess – existed. I could explain until my face turned blue, but it was useless. At some point, every child must realize that there are going to be parts of her life that her parents will never understand, no matter how hard you – or they – try. My parents couldn’t understand why I held onto a childlike belief, why I refused to handle “reality”. I couldn’t understand why they were such assholes about it, why they couldn’t go away, why I couldn’t be left alone.

At the same time I was going through a phase in my life where I had no friends. Because of my weight gain and (ironically) the fact that I never went to any Churches, I was teased in school and made into a social outcast. People would routinely shove me, pour their drinks or perfumes on me, and call me names. That’s happened pretty much throughout my educational lifetime, but suddenly it seemed to occur more. It hurt more.

So I had little support. Not from the school, because teachers of course never did anything about it back then. Not at home, where I was constantly fighting (and not just about Wicca, either). So I ended up like a lot of social outcasts do, and I became the thing that every “normal” member of Society dislikes.

My wardrobe changed into blacks, and I dyed my hair black. I listened to heavy metal, industrial, and electronica. I wrote death poetry, took up cutting, and began to sneak out alcohol from my parents. When I grew old enough I bought it myself. I had outbursts where I would just come home, scream at my family, and then hide in my room and weep for hours.

The one thing that seemed to remain a constant, that sustained me, was the idea that someone in the universe cared about me. Someone Gave A Damn. I had my family and my cat, Simi, and everything was okay.

Surprisingly enough, I graduated. I had no date for the prom, so I didn’t go. I did my get-the-diploma ceremony and then went home. Carried on. Didn’t go into college. Hell, I spent my eighteenth year doing mostly nothing but hating myself, trying to recuperate, and generally trying to destruct. My cat disappeared, and I took it personally. Cats, in a rural area, are wont to explore. Sometimes they don’t come back, but I was convinced it was something I did.

Because I spent so much time wrapped up in my head, I let go of the more magical side of my life. I said I was a Wiccan, but I didn’t rite, didn’t do spellwork, didn’t even light a candle for most of this time. I mouthed off about it, but I *so* didn’t walk the talk. I felt I was a bad witch, that all of this was happening because I was a horrible person, and I didn’t honour my gods, so they were saying “fuck you” right back at me. Over this period of time, my identity dissolved. Because I did nothing, was involved in nothing, my identity was nothing. I am a firm believer that you are what you do.

Gradually I began to pull out of it. I signed up for community classes and go a job. I worked my way out of the faith crisis by examining what I wasn’t doing. Since it wasn’t working, I changed it. I was lucky in that I never turned to drugs nor became an alcoholic. I was lucky that my self-destruction was inward-focused, because in a way (although it hurt more) it saved me. Because I had done this to myself, it was up to me to change it.

Nowadays, of course, I recognize that I was in a severe state of depression. I should have seen a mental health professional, should have been forced to go see one. The fact that I got out of it was pure determination, plus a heavy dose of caring love from my family. I cried lots, prayed lots, and in the end my wounds- all kinds- began to clear up.

If you ask the Buddhists, suffering is caused by your attachment to the permanency of things. We get attached to the idea that this will never change. But all thing are, by their nature, impermanent and subject to change. When change occurs, it is often without our permission, and so we are betrayed by our own ideas. We get the idea that Someone is out to get us. In short, we take as personal the very change itself, when the nature of energy and the universe is the very mutability of it.

Life changes. If it doesn’t then it rots and grows withered, and dies. In a sense that too is change. Wherever did we get the idea that humans had control over anything? We’re just fish in the pond, baby – bigger fish, maybe, but fish nonetheless.

Change happens, with or without us. If we hold onto it, if we put energy into the old ideas and if we deny our change, then we build up a disruptive force. It’s like the game of tug-o-war: eventually, something has to give. Often when the energy gives and breaks, it backlashes at us and we end up hurting even more.

So although the first stage of transformation is disintegration of our ideas/family/loves/selves, and although it hurts, we must recognize several things:

Firstly, we must admit that change is “meant to be”. Change occurs, whether we will it to or not. Our tree gets struck by lightening, and we burn and scream with the pain. So our second lesson is that change is never easy. However, we must recognize and admit that our ability to handle change will help (or hinder) how well we handle the changes that are occurring.

During disintegration, my advice to you is to first take care of yourself. Go to doctors, both of the physical and the emotional. Eat healthy and take up exercise. Get a facial now and then. Be gentle with yourself. The butterfly doesn’t come out of the chrysalis and flies off right away.

The second bit of advice (and the one that will be much harder to follow) is that you must Let Go of the old “you”. You can not hang onto what you were before. That self is gone now. Already, simply by beginning the faith crisis, you are changed. Recognize that shit happens, change is mandatory for survival (what do you think “adaptation” is, anyway?) and take care of yourself. Yes. It hurts like hell. A part of you is dying, how is that not supposed to hurt? However, part of that pain is caused by your resistance to change itself and what is happening to you. You have to suck it up and try moving on. We all do it.

Conclusion

Above all, recognize that you are not alone in this. Talk with your family, your coven, your group mates. Talk to the Goddess. Meditate and pray and dream and cast spells, if you have to. Just know that you are not alone and that change happens to us all. Crises in faith happen to us all.

I close this journal entry with a wish for you. If you are going through a crisis of faith (or identity or life), then I feel for you and I wish you to know that you are not alone.

This is a prayer that I have written. I use it when I undergo times of change. Although mine is directed to an unnamed Goddess, you can change it as you see fit.

Goddess of the shadow

You who bend and burn my heart

I pray: be gentle with me

As you prune away my soul

As I shed my tears of loss

Be gentle with me.

 

I ask to be able to forgive my pain.

I ask for wisdom to recognize my change.

I ask for strength to carry on.

I ask for the healing of myself.

 

As You descended into shadow, it hurt.

As I descend into shadow, it hurts.

May Your strength and grace be mine.

May Your wisdom and courage be mine.

May I let go of my former self, as You did.

May I be blessed, as You were.

May I emerge from the fires stronger, better, freer.

(Close with whatever you like.)

Friday Night Review (Pagan Every Day)

Friday Night Review

Book: Pagan Every Day: Finding the Extraordinary in Our Ordinary Lives by Barbara Andinger, 2006 by Red Wheel/Weiser (www.redwheelweiser.com)

Since I’m not that great at writing reviews, I’ll just cut to the chase: I liked this book. Scratch that. I freakin’ LOVE this book.

A lot of pagan people out there will probably see this book as a devotional. Each day is filled with inspiring topics that you can read and think (or write about) and if that’s not a devotional then I don’t know the term.

Anyway, this is a great book, meant to challenge and inform and inspire. It’s a fun book to read, too. Today’s page is called “Home as Process”:

“Reader, what were your priorities when you moved into your home? There is often one thing that, when you take it out of the box or bring it home from the store, shows that you’re home. What is that thing for you?”

Well, I haven’t yet moved out, but for me the sign that I’ve finally cleaned out my room (which almost never happens) is whether or not I have some fresh flowers in my room. Usually they go on my altar, and it doesn’t matter what kind of flowers they are, since I like all kinds. Just as long as there’s new flowers, it’s “done”. The same principle applies for my office as well. The center isn’t “right” unless there’s flowers.

For me, having flowers is a sign that you care. There isn’t a person who I know who doesn’t like the sight of flowers. Unless they’re allergic or are hay fever sufferers, that is. You don’t even need a lot of them, and they can be wildflowers. The trick is that they must be clean, neatly arranged, and not all withered.

That said, I hate it when guys give me flowers. I mean, I like the flowers, but all the men I’ve ever dated (or boys) have all given me flowers right before we separated. There’s nothing that red-flags faster for me that a guy holding flowers. Symbol of a dying relationship, that is.

Anyhoo, getting back on track: I loved this book at first glance. I hope, as I continue to work through it, that I’ll continue to love it. I can’t find a damn thing wrong with it, but I’ll yell for help if I do.

~~~

I went to work and did some rearranging of the furniture in the centre. We had two computers donated to us last year, but only one is connectable to the Internet. So I made a nice “private” office with the cubicle dividers and on Monday Jeff the Computer Guy is gonna fix it up for us. Apparently I’m also the only person in the “hey, that computer guy is kind of cute, eh?” boat. Ah well- I like what I like, and I happen to like guys with long hair and scruffy faces. *sighs*

under the frost moon (repost)

reposted from my other diary (and this is where this journal title came from)  <edit for format and paragraph formatting>

____________________________ 

Happy New Year, everyone! I love the New Years’ festivals, even though I never watch any balls drop. Nor do I watch parades, fireworks, or attend fancy parties. For me, these are the ways that I ring in the New Year:

– The First Breakfast hails from my childhood. The key to the Breakfast is that none of the food items may be diet-friendly. That is because you have 364 other days to watch your diet and live a healthy life. The Breakfast is not about overdoing it, by the way. You are having breakfast, not going on a three-day eating binge. This year’s Breakfast consisted of Chocolate Explosion pancakes (chocolate milk, chocolate chips), swigged down with elaborate Cappuccinos for the adults, and Root Beer for the kids (and me). By the way, if you really feel like you can’t let go of the diet, then substitute all non-healthy materials for healthy ones.

– The Year Review, in which I write down what happened (or didn’t happen) during the previous year. Illnesses, deaths, goals missed- the bad and the good are written down and kept in my diary.

– Crokinole is only played in the house during the New Year.

– I will make my mum One Fancy Drink and we will celebrate the fact that we haven’t yet killed each other.

– During the dinner, there is a toast to each of us. There is also a time when each of us states two goals for the new year: something that we wish to lose, and something that we wish to gain.

– Mint chocolate ice cream tops off the day. Usually I serve it with the One Fancy Drink.

– Everyone goes out to help with chores. Usually there is also a midnight snowball fight.

*****************

That’s about it. There really isn’t any staying-up-until-midnight for us. Or if there was, then I’m usually so tired I just go to bed anyway.

Irregardless, I started work again (from the Holidays) back at the centre. (For reference: I work at a drop-in centre for people with disabilities, mental health issues, illnesses, and addictions. Basically I get paid to talk with people and help them with their plans and goals.) I thought I was going to hate it. I’d been so burnt out by the end of December that a two-week respite was the ONLY way I was coming back. I don’t handle high-pressure situations well, obviously. That’s a skill I’m going to have to work on.

Anyhoo, instead of dreading going back to work I was looking forward to it. So I went back, still all coughy-feeling, but the second I walked in there my energy levels perked right back up. I still haven’t met everyone yet but the core group of people were expressive about “how much we missed you” and I got lots of hugs. It was pretty great.

Also in the awesome bin was a job offer to work at one of the other service agencies. $12.00 per hour, working no more than 7.5 hours a week with two different people. Basically I’d just be taking them out for movies and coffee and going on walks and such. I could totally do this. I have to redo my clearance checks and let the person who offered the job to me (and this was not a “we have this job up, apply and you might get in”, it was a “I have this person who wants to talk to you” kind of thing) know about my time. I want it, and yet I don’t want it.

For one thing, between working for the centre part-time and working for the BIS (Ref.: brain-injury society, I contract out of the centre for one-to-one services), and attempting to go to university online (Ref.: Athabasca University) my time has a really squeezed feel to it. I know in my head that heck, there’s time that I can push around and make for this job, but a part of me is waffling and saying, no, I *like* waking up late and just relaxing. I *like* having nothing to do until noon on some days. See, I’m totally lazy. A total slacker.

About an hour after I talked to this lady, my boss at the BIS phoned and casually inquired if I wanted to take on another contract. Now, the BIS job pays $20.00 per hour. Basically I take people out and be with them. Vincent Price, a year ago if you’d told me that I’d be making twenty loonies an hour- and that I’d get to keep most of it- I’d say “you crazy” (as K. says). Now I’m debating about whether doing more.

I have to sit down and do a p/c sheet on taking the 12.00/hour job. I KNOW I don’t want any more contracts. I KNOW most of the board at the centre has said it’s not a great idea. I don’t want to do any more contracts until a) I complete the ones I have, and b) I figure out the boundaries of that job. I started in September with the BIS, and there have been problems and questions that I’ve had to try and figure out, like with scheduling matters and things like that.

So that’s currently where my mind-space is at. Yesterday was the Esbat, otherwise known as the Frost Moon. I went outside and did my thing, which mostly involves some thoughts on how the seasons change. Yesterday was unseasonably sunny and warm, like Spring had arrived. In January. Global warming, people.

There was a wonderful halo around the moon, and there were some low-level clouds hanging. You could see the stars beyond it, and as I listened to the horses settle down for the night a band of coyotes started up. So I had the additional blessing of coyote song, which is one of my favourite sounds in the world.

Under the Frost Moon she slept

While the life of her sun cooled inside her

And Grandmother made her tea in the houses above.

That’s my sappy three liner for the moment. I was actually thinking of the story about the lady who meets a man in the moon (it’s hazy at best). She meets this guy and is told not to watch him at night. She’s good about it until her sisters bug her and then she gets the curiosity bug. Pulling his covers off she discovers that he’s brilliantly glowing. As punishment for her disobedience he leaves her. Something like that, anyway.