Saturday, March 28, 2015

January Musings Part II


That which we turn a blind eye on, 
that which we obliterate, 
that which we hide from our memory, 
that what we turn our back on, 
all these things, 
we cannot learn from. 
 
We are blind too. 
 
We have put a shield up against it. 
And shut off my mind. 
I shall not burn the sigil of my past 
for my friend and my enemy 
are my greatest teachers.

Musings from January I

Blood
my blood
your blood
is spilled
shared the seed
on the ground
kiss my mouth
1 million tiny cells
joining together
you becoming me
me becoming you
you and I become us
and we.

Together
floating in this combined union
seeking gnosis .
Totally obliterated
and all because
we're blind
we're deaf
struggle and suffocation
of lonely loneliness
and the separation is real.

The only reality is love.

And we are so young,
we have no idea what that means.
God has mercy on us.
God understands the infinite capacity of love.
Creation sustaining destruction
all of its own cycle
all feeding this upon that
and dynamic balance.
And yet we choose to struggle
we choose to hate
we choose to be right
and that causes suffering.

Let go to a sea of love
that you need not be right
you need not know anything
just live and listen and laugh
forgive and learn.

The goddess loves us
we are all her creatures
and all acts of love and pleasure are her rituals
that we might suffer not
and dance under the full moon.

Don't you see?
All you seek is within you
it was never without
all the universe of the untouched psyche
God is within you
and every cell
and every space
in every void within you.

For that which you seek
you do not find within,
you'll never find without
for the goddess says
I am that which is found at the end of desire.

Monday, March 23, 2015

land of the sun

layers beneath knotted layers and my heart beats in the glimmer of gold.
Under firelight and smoke doth the message lie.
The hind and hare watch.
Holda waits.  Frigga knows. and the Norns spin.

I no longer fear.  I hear the drum beat.
I wake in the land of the sun.
Sowilo flickers in the light.
Thus my fate is spun.
Past and future meet, in the knotted tension of wyrd.

No potency is lost, the resin burns on,
pungent and pure.
Orange blossoms and hope grows.
Love and faith and rebirth.

I have left the frozen north and the sea still calls me.
Water witch, sea farer- mystery.
Bitter salt and sulfur, blood and iron.
Nothing is lost, in that cockle is reborn on 9 waves.

I breath, wait, crash, sleep.
The future is bringing many gifts;
of bread and salt, of bright tidings.

And I give thanks.
I sweat, I sigh, I turn my eye to the eastern sky
and wait under the new moon and the wandering Lady.
And I dance once more.

Friday, March 13, 2015

Darkness and the Dance


What spirits do we serve, consciously and unconsciously?  What do our daily rituals tell of to what and whom we are devoted? 

What is a whole person?  How do we feed all parts of our Self? 

What is the Self?  This vastness beneath the incessant chatter of the ego driven consciousness? 

Why are we here?  What is our purposed?

Can we ever succeed or is the striving and the journey indicative of the successful life?

Union, breath, magick, work, sweat, tears, loneliness, all these things are mine and yours.  This is our birthright.  We dance here in the dark stillness, surrounding by the din of confusion and chaos, and beneath it all?  Beneath it all is a spark of divine that lives within all living things.  Between the heartbeats of time and outside of time eternal, these are the mysteries.

You never stray from the path, even alone in the darkness, this too is your destiny.  You are never alone, for there is no part of you that is not of the Gods.

I breathe, I wait, I cry out.  In each opening of the internal eye, I see through the darkness.  In the darkness is joy, and suffering of seperation.  All of this is an illusion.

For we are one.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Life, Love, Joy



This is my favorite music video at the moment.  I think the dance is just so expressive.  I have spend the past one and a half years mourning, purging, healing, and thinking about love and relationships.  The tears are long over and the pain is gone.  I can't say I'm not a little disgruntled, but that's okay.  That tells me I'm keeping my eyes open and not suppressing my feelings.

My family is going through a lot lately.  Growing old is not for sissies and my parents are certainly getting a boatload of challenges with my mom dealing with chemo and stage IV cancer.

I have to say I don't feel broken and empty anymore.  I don't feel the need to go find someone either.  Sure, I get lonely and cuddling on the couch a watching a movie with someone would be good.   Cuddling is good.  Financial autonomy is good too.  I'm really looking forward to the psych classes I'm taking this spring semester.  I'm looking forward to putting together an updated portfolio and even, studying for the GRE's.

One of the books that made the biggest impression on me this year was Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert.  She did a lot of reflection and research into the institution of marriage to write that book.  Another book on the biology of sexuality that I read this year was Sex at Dawn.  I am excited to see what further theories evolutionary psychologists and anthropologists come up with. 

My buddy Paul and I were talking about my choice to be alone.  Between my desire to have someone who is responsible, smart, magickally inclined, and good looking, that excludes, oh I don't know, 98% of people.  That's okay.  I'm not willing to settle anymore.  I have too much to offer this world to be wasting my time, money, and tears on anything less that soul dancing.  I have too much to do, to learn, to experience, to see, to be willing to squander it on the cruel, the manipulative, the games.  I've got to many planets in my house of work to be playing silly games or to be played.

Yay for turning 33!

Paul also shared this article today. Something Better Than Finding a Soulmate  Healthy.  It's such a novel concept!

I can't figure out if I want to paint or to dance.  



Smile, hug someone, laugh.  It's good for you.

Blessings!


Tuesday, October 21, 2014

The First Gate of the Underworld

Having spent over a year in forgiveness, patience, and being gentle with myself, I have started to ask myself the harder questions.  Little by little I have rebuilt and art practice, and yet, I am terrified to take on the big projects, the scary dreams.  I am afraid to raise the stakes.  I am afraid of the terrible purpose that guides me that compels me to paint and write and find out what remains after the fear has passed. 

What remains looks something like this.  Would you read a book written in such a way?





Madness.  It isn’t alluring in it’s macabre strangeness.  It is no gothic, romantic prison.  Madness is a wretched oubliette with no center of gravity, no compass, and no map.

Losing your mind, however, is seductive.  What is titillating and different, dangerous is captivating.  But it bend you, little by little, warping your mind out of shape, pushing you further and further away from the normal safe reality you once trusted and depended on.  With pain, excitement, and fear, you lose yourself step by step in the unfamiliar, the strange, dark forest.  The curious abnormalities push you further away from your solar center and further towards the outer reaches of your reality.  You shift, infinitesimally, moment and moment, day by day, until you grow accustomed to the eccentricities and the peculiarities.  Month by month polar north shifts until unperceivably, the world has flipped upside down upon its axis.  You don’t feel the earth turning, do you?

There you find the uncontrollable forces of the Old Gods.  There, in the hopeless solitude of maladaptation, you find Neptune, Uranus, and Pluto.  There you drown in the ocean’s salty tears of uncontrollable emotion, the riptide and tsunami of outer poles of melancholy and mania.  You think you have stretched to the outer limits of heaven, and, in fact you have.  But here there is no light and beneficent bearded father with angels in unending exultation.  Instead, as if by bait and switch, here in the edges at the beginning of time, you meet Oranos, the monstrous Titan father who devours his children.  Feeling betrayed in your shredded, masticated state, you sink deeper, into the cold waters of isolation and despair.  Here you meet, the terrible, the notorious, Lord of the dead.  You meet the abductor, the rapist, the end.  Here stands Hades, God of the Underworld.

Once having crossed the river Styx there is no turning back.  You have taken the oath, drank the draught of life and death.  By your will alone, you stepped on the ferryman's boat.  Here, in the underworld, your initiation begins . . . begins with death. 

Monday, October 6, 2014

Gifts and gratitude


Getting home from my latest trip, I've been thinking about a few things. I've got a cold, so normally, I'd expect myself to be depressed, but I'm not. Normally I'd be crashing into the energy drop associated with the letdown of a social function with magickal people, but I'm not. Even my odd dreams make more sense. I have context to see them as creative rather than sexual, inner polarities rather than embarrassments.

I was bored today.  I am congested, so I didn't want to use my brain or hurt my eyes with reading a whole lot, so I went inward. 

For my Assisi Institute class I'm reading a wonderful book called the Gift by Lewis Hyde. It got me to thinking about the difference between selling and making art. I love making art.  I am sad when it sits around my house collecting dust after it's finished. I can engage in art and enjoy the process and give it away. I can find shows to participate in and do fund raising with it. I can share my art with others.  I am financially comfortable and can do art for enjoyment. 

I love teaching. I'm good at it. I don't get nervous about it and my audience gets something out of it too. Richard Tarnas spoke about choosing your audience and not writing for a watered down audience to be broadly accepted or be popular. Just because there isn't a market, doesn't mean you quit creating, you quit putting yourself out there.  I have a calling, a sacred charge, to share my perspective and insights.  I won't ever really know anything. I do have know the game that's being played but I don't have to play. 

To keep my mind alive, and my spirit engaged in the work of making art is enough. That will spill out in gratitude and abundance. Art making, rituals, teaching, relationships-- all of these things will fill my life with blessings. I look forward to the journey that make one's life work.