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[Jun. 16th, 2007|09:59 pm] |
Tonight I feel the need to have my magical accoutrements around me - my stones, my books, my herbs, my glass ball for scrying. Perhaps it's because I feel so lousy, physically. I guess I'll be going in to work tomorrow with my pockets loaded with carnelians - I've located six, but I know I have more around here somewhere. (Of course, the trick is to escape the threat inherent in using so many of them - don't want to arouse the passions of all the males in the call center! I have ample reason to know that they're very potent that way, as well as effective in treating certain maladies.)
I'm somewhat apprehensive about what to do when Tod moves in - how to keep being very much myself while not making him, a de facto Christian, acutely uncomfortable. I have a worrisome feeling that he kind of glosses over that aspect of me in his mind when he thinks about it. Regardless, when the time comes to address it, I won't rub his nose in it, or let him become a Darren Stevens-style dictator. (Perish the thought!)
Ah, well - it'll work itself out somehow. Unless, of course, I get pressed to death by a frenzied mob, like Giles Corey. Either way... |
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| A day in the life: |
[Jun. 2nd, 2006|10:35 am] |
Since my baby was still recovering yesterday from the after-effects of his all-night ER sojourn, I went up to New Gloucester and played nursemaid all day...
In the interests of avoiding stress, we slept, and then did not sleep, and played with the cats, and talked religion & philosophy, and made stupid jokes. When he was feeling a bit less punchy, we went and got Chinese during a typhoon. (One minute it was sunny and lovely, the next there was thunder, lightning, and sheets of rain pouring down the buildings. It was gorgeous and fun and a wee bit scary to drive in, as there were actual waves washing down the street, and random debris from construction sites. Then 20 minutes after it began it was sunny again.)
I love the Jan Mee - on the Great Mystical Chinese Zodiac Placemat of Funn, I am a Goat. Dig this:
"Except for the knack of always getting off on the wrong foot with people, the Goat can be charming company. You are elegant and artistic but the first to complain about things. Put aside your pessimism and worry. Try to be less dependent on material comforts. You would be best as an actor, gardener, or beachcomber."
I was gobsmacked, for that right there is me and a bag of chips. How did they know about my near-obsessive beachcombing for sea-glass? Or my brief (yet memorable!) stint on "Charles In Charge"?
We saw "X-Men" (which I liked better than the previous two, despite the deaths and that the surprise ending was not even remotely surprising). And we also went to Wally World, where I got some gardening supplies - grass seed and a dandelion fork - because the Eerily Accurate Zodiac Placemat of Doom told me to. You just can't fight fate... |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 11th, 2006|11:24 pm] |
Today I had the worst period I've had in years: painful cramps, bloating, and nausea. Which is weird because I just found out that both Jessie and N. have had unusually bad ones this week, too. I know that women's cycles become synchronized when they're routinely in close proximity to each other, but does the severity get synchronized, too? It's the kind I had when I was fired from æ the first time - so hideous that I just HAD to leave. Needless to say, I was not fired this time. *knocks on wood* But I won't say I don't keep expecting it...
In fact, yesterday, when Tanika IMed that she wanted to see me when I was done with the call I was on, I got this sick feeling of dread in my stomach, because that's essentially the ICare equivalent of being put on after-call. I went over to the "bridge" with a feeling of trepidation, and said, "What did I do? Am I fired?" She laughed and said no, quite the opposite. She was actually telling me that I had gotten an "outstanding" on my latest evaluation. I mentioned it to Adam later; the exact same thoughts/feelings went through his head when he was summoned for his. It's residual conditioning, pure and simple, but very unpleasant nonetheless.
Anyway...
I just underwent my first ever attempt at a meditation exercise. I didn't quite manage to shut everything out of my mind, but I was mostly aware of my own (annoyingly rapid) heartbeat and of the candle flame (I was only shooting for the latter effect). I don't know whether this qualifies as a success, but I've been studying Penczak, and he recommends meditation for ritual preparation. If nothing else, it may function as a sleep aid...
Tomorrow it's supposed to be in the 60s; if need be (and if he has time), I will drag Tod outside with me. Sun = huzzah! Tally-ho (and other exclamations to that effect)! Hooray, I say; hooray for SUN! |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 1st, 2006|10:50 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | mystical | ] |
| [ | ambiance |
| | ...the sound of one nostril whistling - very Zen... | ] |
It's got to be because I get totally maudlin when I'm sick, but ever since I read Dave's rather beautiful journal entry about Psychological Egoism, I've been thinking on and off about the concept of a soul.
Most days I don't believe in any higher power except Nature, but I am forced to concede that there is something inherent in humans that sets us apart from other animals (although I'm not sure about the greater apes). Our capacity for empathy and kindness elevates us.
I never thought of this before, but the people I've disliked most in my life and made an effort to avoid were those who simply do not tend to think or care about how others feel - people who let their selfishness override the empathy that would ordinarily humanize them. So, yes; these people are like the lower animals - essentially soulless. (I feel really stupid for not having come to this conclusion a lot earlier. I'll bet most people figure this sort of stuff out in high school.)
Don't think that I'm being soul-ier than thou; I've got one hell of a selfish streak myself. I'm just saying that the part of me that is satisfied by giving money to homeless people and rescuing stray cats and working towards the time when I can help put the bad, empathy-free people in prison - that part of me has got to be the soul, because it can't be any other part (except possibly the uvula).
Huh. I hope this soul thing doesn't mean I have to become a Unitarian now. So many of them are nauseatingly self-righteous, and Unitarianism is a hard concept to explain at parties, especially once you've had a few drinks.
(And now it is time for the Nyquil™ fairy to whomp me over the head with her big green wand and take me away to her magickal kingdom of colorful pharmaceuti-tastic dreams...) |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 24th, 2006|08:26 pm] |
Sometimes I suddenly get these wild, fragmented images of power and beauty zooming, rapid-fire, through my mind. Usually this only happens at night. They are always intense and frenetic, and while the experience lasts, I feel capable of anything - writing an aria; painting a masterpiece; shooting lightning from my fingers, even! Frequently, though, these feelings/images are so intense that I am drawn towards doing so many things that I am unable to implement my ideas; I can only experience. Ususally I have about a half an hour or more of this "power surge" before my perceptions stabilize again.
But I don't get it! I mean, I've never even (knowingly) ingested mind-altering hallucinogens or anything... Does this sound familiar to anyone? If so, respondez-vous, s'il-vous plait! Does it mean that I have ADHD? have become schizophrenic? have finally gone totally and completely insane? |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 4th, 2005|06:44 pm] |
Due to a month of rain and gloom, I was itching to go out into the gardens yesterday, even though by the time I got home it was twilight and getting twilighter (yes, I know that's not a word. Shut up.), so I harnessed Mousie and we went outside together. She ate grass and lilies and frolicked in the forget-me-nots, and I pulled some weeds and watched over her in my "devoted mummy" way. After awhile I brought her in, and harnessed up Bastet, and we headed out.
It was absolutely, amazingly beautiful. Darkness had begun to fall, and you could hear crickets and owls and mourning doves and small children playing somewhere far away. Everything smelled like the grass, which had just been cut, and there were so many gorgeous flowers: pinks and Lilies of the Valley and irises and tulips and violets and lilacs.
Everything was suddenly very precious: a snail that had settled in its shell on a lily's rapier leaf; the pink sunset that blazed through the leaves of the willows and oaks; the friendly-looking hostas; the moss and ferns that looked somehow mysterious, as if tiny gnomes ought to live in and around them.
I stood with my cat and gazed at the trees and the beautiful hazy darkening world, and in my mind I heard James Taylor singing,
"Pray for the forest/ Pray to the trees/
Pray for the fish in the deep blue sea..."
I was grateful beyond belief to be alive right then, and to love and respect the Earth, that I felt a sort of wordless devotion rising in my heart and mind, making me lightheaded with joy. I felt that I was truly part of everything that had ever mattered in the world, everything in nature.
And then Bastet threw up on my foot. |
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| Whew! |
[Feb. 19th, 2005|08:45 am] |
| [ | Tags | | | bar-hopping, mystical | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  apathetic | ] |
| [ | ambiance |
| | ...Bonnie Raitt - "First Night Alone Without You"... | ] |
I was clearly mistaken re: the issue of the previous entry; thus is my peace of mind preserved. I'm glad; I don't care how goddamn close we're getting, I'm not ready for that kind of fiasco...*ahem*, sorry...commitment.
It's weird, though...I don't really believe in horoscopes, although my astrological profile (as well as those of many other people I've known) is dead accurate. I'm Taurus: they're supposed to be sensual, materialistic, aesthetes, earth-centric, and mucho stubborn. And that's me and a bag of chips.
So anyway, I was glancing through the Phoenix, and I happened to glance at Symboline Dai's "Moon Signs" column, which I absolutely never read. The opening paragraph caught my eye, though: "[...T]his is the week you go from first to fourth gear in what seems like an instant. Everything intensifies - and romance [...] unfolds at a frantic pace." It does seem rather prescient, don't'cha think?
Other news, although similarly less than riveting: Dadly is coming tomorrow to put rivets in, or on, (or around?) the roof of my poor little car. (Riveting... rivets... see what I did there? Yeah, I know - I suck.) I will feel a great deal better once that's done. Apparently it's not so easy to find a $3000-ish car of good pedigree that's not a total beater, so I may be hanging onto my current one for a while yet.
I'm losing my voice in very small increments; if it continues thusly, I may be entirely mute by the summer of '09. Have accordingly scrapped plans to go out with Bubba to the bars, as am obviously not able to yell in order to be heard above the din of happy drunkards and AC/DC for three + hours. Which means another quiet evening alone together. Sounds good to me... |
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