A certain pattern...

At long last my life is starting to settle down out of the holiday bustle, which is largely imposed on me by others.  This is a particularly exhausting time of year for me, and I suspect that only some of it is the rushing about I invariably have to do every year.  As my spiritual practise has been deepening, I'm beginning to realize a much closer connection to the Sun that I really understood as a BabyPagan.  Not that I don't love the Moon.  The Sun and I have always had a love-hate relationship.  I burn to a crisp every summer because of my fair Irish skin, unless I slather myself in SPF 90, which keeps me quite pale.  But I love to watch motes of dust drifting through a sunbeam, and much like a cat, I do love finding a sunny spot to nap in, provided it's not in my eyes.  As I work with the gods of the Unnamed Path, and especially as my relationship with the Light God deepens, I find myself missing the sunlight.  I'm more and more tired in the evenings, and especially so as the year has waned.  This is very strange for me, because no matter what my work schedule is I'm usually such a night person.

I'm struggling through my spiritual practise right now, through a feeling of lethargy and sluggish energy.  I'll get through it - I always do.  Right now my focus is on completing the half-done tasks all around me, and continuing to commune with my People.  For now that will have to do.

Maddening Cthulhumass to all, and to all, a Good Night!

I crocheted myself a little amigurumi Cthulhu this weekend, to sit on my monitor at work and remind me that no matter how crazy my job may be, it can always be just a little more insane. ;)

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn

Isn't he cute?

In other news, I'm preparing for my trip to Pantheacon little by little, and also starting the process of paring down my belongings for my eventual move this coming summer.  I have too much stuff!  So some of it's got to go.
I'm almost finished with my Doctor Who scarf, only have a foot or so left; it's just been a challenge to motivate myself to FINISH it.  It's actually cold here now, though, so I have a little more motivation.

Nice v. Good

I've never claimed to be a nice person.  I can be spiteful, vindictive, passive-aggressive, catty, and cutting.  I dislike children and refuse to respect people based solely on their age.  I am irritable, demanding, and a little high-maintenance from time to time.  I am also a cynic.  I almost always see the glass half-empty.

No, I'm not a nice person.

But I do help out my friends and family, I do give people I care about the benefit of the doubt.  To those I am close to I am generous to a fault with.  Am I altruistic? No.  The plight of children in Africa does not move me.  But if a friend is suffering because his family is treating him like shit, I'll be there for him.  When a friend is miserable in his job, I will be there to support him and to encourage him to find something that makes him happy.

Even when people I care about say things to me that hurt my feelings, I will still care about them.

And even though there have been a few notable exceptions to the rules, they are just exceptions. 

Thoughts on the Holiday season

This falls under the heading of Everything I Know About Magic I Learned From Granny Weatherwax… 

I tend to be a groaner and an eye-roller this time of year.  The tie-ins to Christianity don’t particularly bother me, but the focus on gross commercialism really does.  Because I tend to be what most people would consider a humbug, it should come as very little surprise that I don’t believe in Santa Claus.

I never have.  Mom and Dad had that conversation with me at a very early age, and I was the kid who got in trouble for telling the other kids there was no Santa Claus.  There wasn’t any malice in it; I was just a very honest child.

My friend, who is in his 30’s, does believe in Santa.  Now, I’m all for to-each-his-own, but I do expect the same courtesy.  When an off-handed comment turns into a heated magico-religious debate, there’s obviously a miscommunication somewhere.

Suffice to say, I don’t understand how practicing magic and working with gods and goddesses means that I should believe in Santa.

The thing is, I don’t believe in magic, or in pagan gods.  I don’t have to believe in them.  I’ve experienced them.  You believe in something you’ve never had experience with.  I’ve experienced the workings of magic, and I’ve experienced, quite viscerally if not physically, gods.  I’ve never experienced anything that would lead me to think that there’s a fat guy in a sleigh drawn by deer all over the world in a night.  I have experienced gravity, and wind-drag, and running into a wall.  The experience of all these things only reinforces the dis-belief in Santa.

Do we believe that the Sun will rise in the east(ish) every day?  No.  We have experienced that it has risen every day and so we expect that it will do the same.  You can believe that it’ll rise in the west, or not at all, and that doesn’t make it so.

What do you think?  Does it make me less of a magical person that I don’t share the worldview that “If you just BELIEVE, anything can happen?”

Lions and Tigers and Psychics Oh My!

This weekend was kind of a blur for me.

Got off work early on Friday, went home and took a nap for a few hours, then bought more Magic cards and got to work with those.
Saturday I finally got contacted by T, and she, her husband, and another of their friends came to pick me up.  We went to lunch at Fadi's here in Houston, and it was actually really tasty.  Then we went back to their house, where T's husband conked out on the couch, and she and I went upstairs to play dress-up.
Yeah, I know.
But in all seriousness, we were gearing up for that night.  I got to go read Tarot cards for the Glass Slipper Gala at the Alley Theater.  It was SOOOO much fun.  I was totally rocking this Adam Lambert-goes-to-Ren-Faire thing.  With ginormous butterfly wings.  I read cards and flirted, though I didn't get any numbers or anything.  It was so great to be able to get back into doing readings like that again.  I felt like I'd run a marathon after I was done, though. Thankfully I have People for that...the Light God and I were having conversations all night.
"I've got nothing."
"She's blocking you.  Here. *tweak*"
"Holy crap. <finish reading, girl bursts into tears>  It'll be okay honey.  Have a better evening!"

"This woman is drunk, and obviously in an emotionally fragile state.  I've made one girl cry, I'm not running another off a balcony."
"Look I just give you the message.  You don't want to convey it, that's all you."

Ultimately, I was exhausted emotionally and physically, but really mentally energized, and VERY much psychically WIDE OPEN.  I didn't really get that to shut back down to 'normal' until this morning.  And even then I can tell that I'm still more open that I normally am.

And really I'm okay with that.

I've been doing a lot of work on making myself ready to allow love into my life.  I deleted all the pictures of the last cute guy off my phone; actually, all of the pictures of guys off my phone, and off both computers.  I spoke to M, who I still had feelings for, and finally got him to say that he felt that we should be friends right now.  Now I have all this extra energy, so I've been running that as suggested by Sphinx.  It's actually a really good-weird feeling, feeling like I'm running on full throttle, until I get everything sort of equalized.  Then I am still running stronger, but there's no strain, it's just more smoothly flowing energy.  When I get home tonight I'm getting my room clean and doing journeywork.  I need to talk to some People more face to face.  I've slipped back into the habit of falling asleep when I try and travel if I do it in my bed, and that's not going to work.

Now I really just need to do it and to catch up on my rest.

Spirit Day

So, today is Wear Purple Day, remembering the GLBT youths who have taken their own lives.  In the last month and a half there have been, what, nine young people, all under the age of 19, who we KNOW committed suicide after being bullied for being gay or perceived as gay.  Here very soon I'll be joining the ranks of the It Gets Better project.

I'm at work today, decked out in my sexy purple Imogen Heap concert t-shirt and my amethyst crystal.  I'm even wearing my rainbow bracelet.  And I was SHOCKED and amazed to see several of my co-workers who are also wearing purple, and who grinned at me and commented on my own apparel.  These are, while open-minded, not people I would necessarily have expected to give a crap about GLBT issues.  In some way they've restored part of my faith in humanity.  Little things, huh?

I couldn't sleep last night.  Got home, tired as crap, laid down, and then tossed and turned for about 45 minutes...finally I just got up, and cleared off my altar.  I found a lovely resin-cast skull the other day, life-sized, and decided he shall be called Bob.  Bob got placed on my altar, with a number of other purple items, and pride icons.  I started working Unnamed Path mojo, and then sat on my bed and talked to the spirits of the fallen for a while, offering my love, and hopes for them to find peace and rest and love, and boo-hooed like a baby.

I was almost one of those young men, once upon a time.


After all was said and done, I took a picture of my altar and emailed it out to my People, and then rolled over, staring at the flame of my candle until I fell asleep.

This morning I felt so much better.  I've been fighting off a head cold since Saturday, and I'm winning.  I've been great all day, but today has felt a little weird.  Somber, but oddly joyful.  I've seen things out of the corner of my eye a few times.  It's the season for it, I guess.  I'll be making sure everything's sealed and cleared when I get home, but I haven't been uncomfortable or scared, just startled.  Mostly I feel peaceful.

To all my brothers and sisters out there, I send you my love. I hope it helps.  Know that even if you don't know their names, there is ALWAYS someone out there who loves you.

Say Hi, Bob.

Yet another project...

Because I don't have enough to do already, I'm going to try my hand at this journalling/blogging thing again.  Not that there's that much that happens in my life that's exciting but...perhaps it will be cathartic.

As many things tend to do, this starts because of an irritation.
I'm gay.  Have been my whole life, and in a couple of previous lives.  Yes, I'm also one of those tree-hugging dirt-worshipping Pagans.  Anyway.  A major source of irritation, angst, and anger in my life is always having people tell me that I'm not _____ enough.  Not skinny enough, not well-endowed enough, not masculine enough, not feminist enough...the list goes on.  Since coming out, one of the things I keep running into is that people think I'm not GAY enough.  I haven't seen this movie or that musical, I don't like this artist or that singer...blah blah blah.  And I know that some people just think they're being twee, but honestly it's really really starting to piss me off.

Here's the deal.  No, I have never seen Victor Victoria.  I'm not particularly interested in seeing it to begin with, but being told that I have to see it so I can be really gay makes me even less likely to see it. 
I don't like a LOT of musicals.  I love Wicked, I love RENT...that's really pretty close to it, and I like them because of other themes (And Idina Menzel's voice is one I can -almost- match)... I don't like Barbara or Cher or Liza, I'm not particularly a fan of Madonna, and I love Bette Midler as an actress far more than as a songstress.  I don't particularly care for fashion or foreign film or interior decorating.  What makes me gay is not any of these things.  And I love Judy, the Wizard of Oz, and glitter.  I love fruity drinks, and jewelry.  But I don't like these things because I'm gay.  I like them because I like them. 

What makes me gay is the fact that I love men.  No, engaging in sex with men does not necessarily make one gay.  But I want to have intimate, engaging relationships with men.  My heart reacts differently for men than for women.  That's what makes me gay.  And frankly I resent anyone telling me that because I don't fit this one particular mold that I'm not gay enough.  Maybe not for you, but that's your issue, not mine.  I'm plenty gay for me.

I'm a mule-headed sort of person, and being told that in order to 'qualify' as something I already know I am I have to do/watch/like/not do something, I will dig my heels in deep.  I've been like that my whole life.