There are things I don't talk much about regarding my experiences in religion because I have serious baggage from growing up in such a strongly charismatic Christian background. I've always had spirit contact and mild psychic abilities and dreams. When it's treated as a special sign and the attention is frightening and predatory, you learn to not talk about the weird stuff.
This isn't church, and I'm going to talk about the weird stuff. Rarely do I know what to make of it right away. It might take a day or a week or a few months for it to become clear, and even then, it's often only the beginning of the riddle. I don't understand why sometimes something so great comes near, changes everything, and then goes away again, perhaps never to return. Perhaps the Gods can't help but cyclone into our lives. Perhaps it's not being bound to time and space.
The great fear is that whatever one does in the encounter is not satisfactory, that the answers given are found wanting. There's still an episode with the Horned God, from about a year ago, that makes me feel sick with worry and confusion. He asked me a question. I panicked and looked the gift horse in the mouth, only to find myself back in my room knowing I'd made some kind of horrible mistake. And then my puppy dropped dead a couple of days later, for no reason they could find, and I spent the better part of the year afraid that it was a punishment for my failure. I still don't know about that one, but I do keep serving, keep offering, keep praying.
My favorite times are when it's overwhelming in a way that makes the practices of devotion almost unbearably sweet and tender for a long time afterward. I get that with Mary, the Blessed Theotokos a lot. I get it with those women who reign over home and family and marriage. I get it with some saints. I have always loved the saints dearly, and their legends made me feel safe and less strange about my own when I was growing up. They have been generous in communication and in their teaching.
The strangest of all the experiences I've had was when I called on Lugh last year. What started as gentle rocking as I prayed became a full seidr trance where I blacked out and had a very powerful experience. I woke up on the floor. Later in the evening, all of the candle holders on the altar exploded - glass shattered everywhere on the table and onto the cement floor, and nobody heard a thing even though I wasn't six feet away. The dog that wakes up and barks if you sneeze didn't stir. It was the strangest thing. It had been so long since I had an ecstatic experience strong enough to black out from full consciousness, and to have such a strong manifestation! It didn't seem negative. It was just breathtaking display of power.
Showing posts with label navel gazing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label navel gazing. Show all posts
Monday, October 15, 2012
Friday, December 16, 2011
Gearing up for a new year... already?
This is part of the New Year, New You project, first prompt.
Beginnings can be a fantastic rush of enthusiasm and planning and wonder at the endless possibilities. They can be terrifying - especially when they're a choice to step out of complacency or to admit that what you're doing isn't working for you anymore. There always seem to be places where we're beginning, ending, at a plateau, or struggling to keep up, and all of that's happening at the same time. For me, the hardest is starting new things as a way to get yourself out of the mire.
It's exactly what I need to be working on now. I am stuck, y'all. I took a year to relax after I accidentally exploded my life with an Imbolc ritual a couple years back. I asked for all the things I wanted to grow in my life, and I was dumb enough to make one of them Patience. A few things took off like a rocket, and the rest of them grew measurably, at the speed of continental drift. It's only recently that I've stopped being afraid of Brigid, the spell was that far-reaching. Rest has turned into complacency, bad habits, and that just sucks. There's always a reason for things not being how you want them to be, but if you never act on it, the reason becomes an excuse.
No more excuses. My main goal is to tackle changes with love and patience for myself. That's hard. People often remark that I have unattainable standards. Hey, at least they're only my standards for myself - the ones for everyone else are way lower. The universe has been thunking me upside the head about needing some new beginnings, right down to delivering a gorgeous statue of Ganesha and whisking heavy time burdens off of my shoulders. What am I going to do?
I'm slowly making all of my own condition oils out of a proper formulary after someone showed me a Wiccan recipe for a strictly Hoodoo thing that definitely didn't have the right ingredients, which is when my head exploded. I think the book pays for itself on the fifth thing I make? I'm also trying wee bits of the magics that are a gentle nudge or kiss on the cheek compared to my usual level of force, which is like getting punched in the back of the head. It has the added benefit of making me feel magnanimous, which puts me in a good mood for dealing with holiday shoppers. I'm pretty sure that's progress, folks.
Beginnings can be a fantastic rush of enthusiasm and planning and wonder at the endless possibilities. They can be terrifying - especially when they're a choice to step out of complacency or to admit that what you're doing isn't working for you anymore. There always seem to be places where we're beginning, ending, at a plateau, or struggling to keep up, and all of that's happening at the same time. For me, the hardest is starting new things as a way to get yourself out of the mire.
It's exactly what I need to be working on now. I am stuck, y'all. I took a year to relax after I accidentally exploded my life with an Imbolc ritual a couple years back. I asked for all the things I wanted to grow in my life, and I was dumb enough to make one of them Patience. A few things took off like a rocket, and the rest of them grew measurably, at the speed of continental drift. It's only recently that I've stopped being afraid of Brigid, the spell was that far-reaching. Rest has turned into complacency, bad habits, and that just sucks. There's always a reason for things not being how you want them to be, but if you never act on it, the reason becomes an excuse.
No more excuses. My main goal is to tackle changes with love and patience for myself. That's hard. People often remark that I have unattainable standards. Hey, at least they're only my standards for myself - the ones for everyone else are way lower. The universe has been thunking me upside the head about needing some new beginnings, right down to delivering a gorgeous statue of Ganesha and whisking heavy time burdens off of my shoulders. What am I going to do?
- Clutter and organization have to be addressed - home, work, mental. Kevin's really messy, and I either need to get a routine in place or for us to find a compromise on how to share the work. We have a small house with limited storage, so it's time to get a system in place. Projects for magic, herbalism, the wedding, historical reenactment, and calligraphy all manage to creep out into the main part of the house. Shelving is insufficient, and I have got to find a way to get Kevin to give up some seriously awful old furniture that is more hindrance than useful. I hate that I'm stuck with this part alone, mostly, but it needs a cold, critical eye and a willingness to part with things that he simply doesn't have.
- If I don't like the way something is, I either have to work to change it or change my attitude. UGH. I don't wanna. This is probably what I need to do most. Fix toxic things. Make our lives healthier. Work on my self-esteem. Just ugh.
- Make frugality a game that's its own reward. My usual reaction to extended frugality is to swan about, sniffling like dispossessed royalty fallen on hard times.
- Take advantage of the season I'm in. I'm in a liminal place for the next couple of years while Kevin finishes his PhD. Lots of time alone means that I have uninterrupted time to really study the craft, meditate, be creative, and take care of myself (including exercise - this is the year I turn 30 after all). I need to understand this time as special and mine, rather than feeling ignored like I do sometimes. It feels almost gestational, as if whatever post-school job he gets will be our real beginning. It's definitely a special time I need to milk all the goodness out of.
- Study: Half Price Books has delivered up some great foundational books in traditional witchcraft. Amazon has sent some serious stuff on herbalism and Medieval women's wisdom. It's my aim to work through these in a scholarly fashion, with notes and laser focus, to internalize the information. Naturally, continuing to learn my native plants and their super secret magical properties is part of this.
- Practice: Everything doesn't have to be some huge working. I want to be in the habit of doing many small workings throughout the day, besides manipulating traffic on the interstate. Neck sore? Fix it with magic! Boss grumpy? Fix it with magic! I think this is the best way to learn to control my tendency to over-charge things.
- Self: I have to be physical. I miss feeling strong and supple and lithe like I did a couple of years back. Walking, yoga, and meditation need to be seen as an essential part of my week, not optional or indulgent. Taking care of myself after I take care of everything else in my world is a horrible thing to do that diminishes myself and everything I do.
I'm slowly making all of my own condition oils out of a proper formulary after someone showed me a Wiccan recipe for a strictly Hoodoo thing that definitely didn't have the right ingredients, which is when my head exploded. I think the book pays for itself on the fifth thing I make? I'm also trying wee bits of the magics that are a gentle nudge or kiss on the cheek compared to my usual level of force, which is like getting punched in the back of the head. It has the added benefit of making me feel magnanimous, which puts me in a good mood for dealing with holiday shoppers. I'm pretty sure that's progress, folks.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Gift Horse Inspection Time
I learned to do natal charts over the weekend. The free ones online always have such strange explanations. We did mine, which was a little odd, but then so am I. My guy's was enviable in how clear and true it rang out his life's work, successes, and dangers. It's a good life, full of good things, and I am grateful to be tied to it.
What was I expecting to see in mine or hear in a practiced interpretation? I'm not really sure. Deep down, I thought it might spit out my destiny or life's work and tell me what I should be when I grown up. Like it would say, hey! your Saturn is in Taurus, so you should be a firefighter. Unfortunately, I'm already grown up, and the star-predicted path of eclectic jobs and erratic income levels is one I know well. It makes it hard to get ahead or make big goals to work toward, since being on the corporate ladder feels more wrong every rung I ascend.
It explains the abject failure of all my giant, magic-fueled attempts to swan dive into an Important Career. It's incredible to know that I'm not failing my destiny doing what I've been doing. It means time to grow things, to harvest them from nature, to make things, to learn, to make home a haven of beauty, rest, and comfort. Yet it feels like I'm failing to not put my smarts and skills into a Profession of Vast Earning Potential.
The thing basically said that my role is to support Mr. Career over there, to be domestic, to be artistic, to have a quieter more flexible life. That's really cool. It's what I wanted to do my whole life. But to have it spelled out makes me a little sad and jealous, as though what I am called to is lesser, not very special, or even invisible compared to what he's doing. He would never think that, would be upset that I feel this way. We all want to be special and respected. I fear that I won't be because he will always overshadow me.
Perhaps this is less about astrology and more about hidden marriage fears. If I take myself out of competition with him, I won't be a superstar overachiever anymore. Doing what's right and good for me isn't a failure, but it seems that way at the moment. It feels like giving up the potential of being self-sufficient. Lies, lies, lies...
What was I expecting to see in mine or hear in a practiced interpretation? I'm not really sure. Deep down, I thought it might spit out my destiny or life's work and tell me what I should be when I grown up. Like it would say, hey! your Saturn is in Taurus, so you should be a firefighter. Unfortunately, I'm already grown up, and the star-predicted path of eclectic jobs and erratic income levels is one I know well. It makes it hard to get ahead or make big goals to work toward, since being on the corporate ladder feels more wrong every rung I ascend.
It explains the abject failure of all my giant, magic-fueled attempts to swan dive into an Important Career. It's incredible to know that I'm not failing my destiny doing what I've been doing. It means time to grow things, to harvest them from nature, to make things, to learn, to make home a haven of beauty, rest, and comfort. Yet it feels like I'm failing to not put my smarts and skills into a Profession of Vast Earning Potential.
The thing basically said that my role is to support Mr. Career over there, to be domestic, to be artistic, to have a quieter more flexible life. That's really cool. It's what I wanted to do my whole life. But to have it spelled out makes me a little sad and jealous, as though what I am called to is lesser, not very special, or even invisible compared to what he's doing. He would never think that, would be upset that I feel this way. We all want to be special and respected. I fear that I won't be because he will always overshadow me.
Perhaps this is less about astrology and more about hidden marriage fears. If I take myself out of competition with him, I won't be a superstar overachiever anymore. Doing what's right and good for me isn't a failure, but it seems that way at the moment. It feels like giving up the potential of being self-sufficient. Lies, lies, lies...
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