fickle

I change my mind as often as my hair colour. If you know me at all, you know that means a lot.

Plath has a line that always rings in my mind "Spiteful as a woman, but not so nervous, And dying to say something unanswerable".

I've got a few things on my mind, many very intangible.

I feel that I'm changing again quite rapidly right now. I'm teaming with anticipation to see how my next incarnation evolves.

I'm craving some colour in my wardrobe. Perhaps I'll finally buy some clothes that aren't black. I want some sparkles and shiny things in my life. Mostly I want to carry myself with a certain je ne sais quoi that reaks of fierceness and being a total man-eater.

Watch out, this kitten has claws.

xo

a room of one's own

The words are flowing again. I am happy for that.

It starts with an image, a phrase, a metaphor and then I run with scissors right down the hall with it. If I don't get it down on paper quickly enough it passes.

Paper is a must. With purple ink from my favourite pens. The words flow so much better on real paper, as much as I love typing.

I want to stay in bed all day long with my cat, writing away, drinking tea and burning incense. I need solitude, as Ms. Woolf said, "a room of one's own" in order to accomplish what I want to.

I have huge ideas and a feeling that time is both at a stand still and yet a great sense of urgency. Every day that I age without words on the page is a wasted one. I need to get this down before I lose it again.

the city is a drag

I'm researching endangered species in Canada for work and it's thoroughly depressing. It really makes me want to cry. That probably sounds corny, but it's true. Sometimes I really want to go live in a cabin in the woods and be a infamous recluse.

When I've have the money to, I'm going to be a hermit with a DSL connection.

L'ennui

I've had an overwhelming sense of dread for the last two weeks or so. I have no idea what the cause is, but I feel like I'm walking on egg shells and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It creeps up on me in small increments, I feel like I'm missing something, maybe I lost my keys, my phone, my lipgloss, my wallet, I check everything in a moment of panic.

My boyfriend has asked a hundred times "what's wrong?" I just have to keep answering, "I don't know."

I wish that I knew because then I could fix it.

dirty business

There are very few people who really know me. Sure, I have a big large group of acquaintances and a handful of close friends but lately when I look at most of them I can't relate at all.

I dream in 3rd person. I detach myself completely and hover in a depersonalized state. I've been told this is kind of odd. It goes by like a movie and I see myself interacting with the other characters. This "I", whomever she is, is simply a passive observer. This is often how I feel on a day-to-day basis as well.

Everything is very ethereal and ambiguous. I'm drowning in nostalgia and my own perverse never-ending fantasy world.

The pain killers I'm currently prescribed certainly aren't helping.

I find myself to be a far away person with whom this passive observer has no connection and no means of contacting. She is out there somewhere, but currently out of range.

I just want to feel something right now, to snap myself back into, well, "myself". The mindfog is getting to the point where when prompted to speak in conversations through a question asked of me, or a silence from the other party,

I struggle to be able to find words to string together a sentence. I understand what they're saying to me, but I can't articulate myself. I'm forgetting how to spell simple words or I spend minutes looking at words and I can't seem to associate a meaning to them. Even writing this simple post took several hours to complete and I still don't feel that I have conveyed what I mean.

The only things that I can really think of to snap me out of this are self-destuctive.

I think that I used to burn a lot more brightly when I was slightly less emotionally stable. At times I certainly miss the dramatic intrigue of it all.

Maybe I want to be a bit reckless, it certainly would make for a much more interesting plot than what is currently playing out in this motion picture.

Imbolc

I'm very much looking forward to celebrating this point in the wheel of the year. I've been doing some reading about celtic pagan paths lately and it has come to my attention that Brigid also roughly corresponds to Minerva (Roman) and my patron godddess, Athena (Greek).

In her various forms, this fierce femme rules over poetry, academia, justice, healing and war. Imbolc is very much a fire festival and I definitely need to get my worship on. I could definitely use some inspiration and something to rekindle my own inner fire.

A good witch friend said to me on Yule, "you need to mark the turning wheel, or it will mark you." Basically, honour the sabbats, the triple goddess and the passing of the seasons of you'll feel out of sorts for it. Very true advice.

On a personal note, my wonderful other half also happens to be born on February, certainly a very good sign indeed. ♥

Now where's my battle axe? I feel the need to slay some poetry in submission.

oxycodone nightmares

Once upon a time, I carved your true name into my skin.

My intention was to bind me to you, not the other way around. Please stop invading my dreams, it's been far too long for all this nonsense to continue.

tourniquet

I've had this overwhelming feeling for my entire life (or at least as long as I can remember) that I'm supposed to do something really important. I have no idea what though. All I do know is that it's something BIG, something to do with energy work/spirituality. It's as if I know on some subconscious level what it is, but it's tucked away deep within my head and is just out of reach.

This probably comes across as narcissistic, crazy or as delusions of grandeur, but let me try to explain.

As a child, I was intensely spiritual. At the time, I framed this in the only context that I had at the time, via Catholicism. I was convinced that I was going to be a saint. Specifically, I wanted to be a martyr. At the age of 6, I had reoccurring and extremely intense daydreams about being Joan of Arc. I fixated about it for weeks at a time and it preoccupied my thoughts.

Independently of anyone ever having explained anything like this to me, at age 7, I thought of the concept of reincarnation. I explained it to my mother, who replied, "some people believe that, but not us." That was the day of my First Communion.

In my childhood, probably until around age 8, I also had a very vivid cast of imaginary friends, probably at least 50 of them, whom I spoke to on a daily basis. My feeling about this now, t is that I probably was actually seeing entities/spirits/angels (whatever you want to refer to them as) that were there. As I got older and there was increasing social pressure not to act "weird", I turned this ability off. Since then, I've had glimpses of it again, but I've usually been terrified of the unknown and quickly clammed up again. I wish that I wasn't so afraid of this.

At around age 12, I first stumbled upon Wicca. (As a side note: I don't consider myself Wiccan by any stretch of the imagination, this was merely my introduction and gateway into Pagan practices. I have no idea what to call my eclectic set of beliefs now.) This was roughly the same time at which I denounced Catholicism. The two events are not strictly related, nor was one the consequence of the other. I can say that I was officially Catholic for 15 minutes. The priest who did my Confirmation delivered a hateful homily at the service. He went on a tirade about the evils of homosexuality and how all gays were going to burn in Hell. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and decided that I could not belong to a religion with clergy of that opinion.

Throughout my teenage years I stumbled somewhat superficially around the periphery of Paganism. Though there were a surprising amount of self-proclaimed witches at my high school (as a point of interest, I don't think any of them still practice), we only ever did ritual together on a handful of occasions and it was always somewhat selfishly motivated spellcraft. So I was a solitary practitioner and very much without any clear direction or any guidance. I used this time to gather knowledge, read whatever I could get my hands on and I developed some of my own ideas about my spiritual life and what I wanted from it.

Now, I've always been intuitive but I still feel that this skill is very underdeveloped - as are most of my spiritual skills. I suck at meditation (my mind wanders too much), my tarot reading is mediocre at best and I keep meaning to get around to properly learning reiki, but it just hasn't happened yet.

I feel like I have the potential, but I don't know how to move forward or what to do with it. Though I have had some good instances of intuition, I feel like all my spiritual work has plateaued of late.

I've been lucky enough to do some really excellent work with some spectacular witches in the last year (our loose not-coven), but I feel somewhat inferior in that I am not anywhere nearly as knowledgeable or powerful as them. They're all very experienced and knowledgeable. It would be nice if we all had more hours, but we're all busy people and getting together on any type of regular basis just isn't possible.

So all of this a very round about way of saying that for a long time coming I've had the overwhelming feeling that I'm brink of moving forward and really harnessing the power that I know I have inside. I'm just clueless as to how. I feel like a I really need a teacher. I'm also a firm believer that when the pupil is ready, a mentor will appear. But then again, perhaps it hasn't happened because I've never directly asked for it.

A recent tarot reading told me to enthusiastically seek out a reluctant, reclusive (e.g. hermetic) teacher. Getting them to come around to the idea of being my instructor will be difficult, but ultimately worth it because they possess great knowledge and it will be a mutually fulfilling and rewarding relationship.

According to my Vedic astrology chart, by age 30 I will have a drastic change in my life and I will become "saint-like" and "pursue the path of Buddhahood". The astrologer's words, not mine!

So here I am, declaring my intention. This year, I aim to find someone (or someones) who can help me better my spiritual practice and figure out what my path is supposed to be.

yuletide cheer

Did know that in 17th & 18th centuries nostalgia was classified as a medical condition, namely as a form of melancholy?

This time of year always makes it worse than any other. I sit back and reflect not only on this year, but the one before that and the one before that. No matter how terrible things were/are, I always seem to revert to idealizing the past to a ludicrous degree. I find myself yearning for times that never actually existed other than in my head. It couldn't have been that great, but I've made each drunken kiss and each misstepping out to be pivotal events. Maybe in the reality that I perceived, it never was that wonderful or special, but it could have been. Perhaps in a set of events that have unfolded parallel to those in my current life, they are.

I find a strange a comfort in the theory of biocentrism.

I've also been thinking a lot about thought-forms of late. Think about something long enough and you give that idea power. For example, prior to the advent of neopaganism, many ancient gods had no one to worship them for hundreds of years. What happens when your name is remembered, but no one pays attention anymore? Deities lose their status and a lot of their power. It's similar to how scientific theories come and go, reality is created and fueled by the perceptions and belief in them. Similarly, we might understand that that if we cary a lot of negativity around with us, we can create our own demons of various shapes & sizes.

The basic premise behind any type of energy work is that the intention is there and thus a manifestation of that intention comes into being. Whether you think that is because of your subconscious acting out that intent or because of fundamentally altering the course of events unfolding before you is entirely up to your perception. I'm of the opinion that it's a mix of both. There's magic all around us all the time. Don't forget it.

my inner world is bigger than my outer one

I've had a lot of ideas running around in my head for awhile now.

I'm finally feeling inspired to start writing again and consequently felt that I needed a space to host these thoughts. This will be a space for my poetry, prose and other treasures. I also have been working a reflective piece, somewhat of a memoir. It is blended with elements of contemporary folklore and abstraction.

I am interested in emotional memory and the impact of events rather than a priori knowledge. If a memory is accepted and incorporated into our collective mythologies, who's the say that it didn't happen? Or moreover, if we are simply the sum of that which we perceive, we are able to think ideas into existence.


Comments = ♥