Choccies at three

Can't sleep
Too awake
Maybe I should take a break
From waking worries that plague my mind
And go and see if I can find
Some stimuli of other kind ...
(By me, many years ago.)


And yet still poignant today. Ah the life of a nocturne ... Turns out that word is generally associated with music, but Wikipedia has a wonderful description which also seems to fit well to my usage: "Nocturnes are generally thought of as being tranquil, often expressive and lyrical, and sometimes rather gloomy ..." Pretty good description of me ...

Recently Moth has been visiting me. Calling to me. Oh night flyer you call to me: "find your light. Find your light. Find your light" and "beware of those false lights and electric bulbs - they really bugger us up." Give me open space and a clear night and I know my way. I know my way. And down here, in this safe little womb of a flat, the turning of the days can go by without notice. Suddenly it's dark, and I've not seen daylight. This safe womb of a home is now stifling. Constricting. In the same way I imagine the womb to become when it is time for birthing.

Yes. Time for birthing it is. A small birthing. A new home for the new year. (Happy new year by the way.) A safe cave of my own for wintering in. A place where I can hibernate. Where I can fully draw in and return to ground. This is my winter way after all. And I must follow my need. Not to do so is disastrous. It is no coincidence that all of my major depressions have been diagnosed around mid January. And I feel her here. So close. Always so close.

Michael has been with me too. And this one I find especially interesting: not being inclined towards angels and all that jazz from an intellectual point of view.

The time of action is upon me. It is time to find my light. It is time to find my cave. Ready for the time of shadows. Ready for the time of holding safe the grain of next years crop. It is the time to sort the wheat from the chaff, and the mouldy grain from the potentially bountiful. The re-drawing of the boundaries must now come. Ah, so much potential! So many different directions I could take. So much to review and revive and release. Sleep will follow.

I hope ...

Live it. Forgive it. (pt2)

Physical, Mental, Spiritual.
Body, Mind, Soul.

Right now all three are being neglected.

Physically I am not looking after my body: movement, food, sleep, alcohol.

Mentally I am not looking after my psyche, my ego: living arrangements, personal space, history, storage.

Spiritually I am most nourished, but even there I am not looking after myself as well as I could. Daily practice, overt expression in speech and action.


And interesting that I am craving to work with my hands: rawhide, clay, stone, wood, glass. Craving to start dance classes.
My body is shouting at me loud and clear. I have been neglecting physical experience. My body is singing for use, for pleasure, for the ecstasy of movement in harmony: with material substance, music, another human.

Mentally I am putting myself through experiences which feed my ego's negativity and strength. I need to amend this soon and quickly.

And I need to find a way to make peace with it until it is practically possible to change it.

Which brings me back to the start. This is why I must get to know it. This is why I must explore the sorrow, fear and shame. This is why I walk into the darkness. To know it. To see it. To love it as part of me. Part of the beauty and the humanity of who I am.

Time for another soul quest ...

Where am I most afraid to go?
Then that is where I am going.

Live it. Forgive it.

I'm going down down down
I'm going down down down
I'm going down down down
Like Innana ...
                       (quoted from ALisa Starkweather - Going down like Innana from Daughter of the Earth - www.myspace.com/alisastarkweather)

Live it. Forgive it.

So what am I here to do?
I have 8 days flat sitting. Here at the home of two spiritual beings. Two strong female companions. By myself. With cat.

What is important here? What really matters? Right now - getting myself on an even keel. Internally. And how do I do that?

I walk into the darkness.


Night time rituals.

Sadness to explore.

Fear to explore.

Soul to hear.

Desire a doorway to that sorrow. Why?
What is desire hiding? Masking?

An externalized push for connection, affirmation, relationship. Be that partner or child. An externalised reaching for love.

When did I leave my husband? When did I push that externalized version out?
When I realised I loved myself more than to keep putting myself through those relationship dynamics. When I loved myself enough to not need external affirmation.

And to get there again I need to get to the root of the sorrow and fear and shame. Yes, shame is there too. That's a surprise. Been a while since she reared up. And as yet she is floating, unconnected to any event. That definitely needs exploration. What am I ashamed of?

Dig dig dig. Tunnel down. Step into the black sea.


Feel it. Know it. Live it. Forgive it.

Live it.
Forgive it.
Love
Love
Love.

Wise Woman Warrior Queen Stand Up.
I shall soon be calling on you.

Mage Priestess Lover I need you now.
We will be journeying together this week.

Time to soak and settle ...

Ah, the low point. The time when my skin is thin, and everything feels like a comment on my person. On who I am. On who I was. Judgement all around. Whose judgement? Well ... Mine actually. Projections all. And I've been waiting for this. The crash. Because the high, the adrenalin of change, cannot last. Never does. And neither should it. The body can only sustain a certain amount of stress response positively. If it is prolonged then things start shutting down - the metabolism for one. Then the physical effects become dangerous, damaging. And so what do I do?

I look after myself. And how do I do that? I respond to my body's needs. For sleep. For pampering. For change. Time for the hair to be cut and dyed. Time for a long soaky bath with oils and salts. Time for napping and eating well. No more pizza. More salad. Fresh, growing things. Seeds and nuts and berries. Peppermint tea to calm the stomach. Camomile to calm the spirit. Conversations with parents to touch base with humans who hold me in high positive regard. Conversations with the Sea and Nature to touch base with the bigger picture, and to touch base with the part of me that holds me in high positive regard.

Not time to be trying to learn a new language of website making. It's all washing over me anyway. I understand the words, but not the meaning. My head is swimming. And there are so many 'shoulds' and 'oughts' attached to it. I am an intelligent person. Computer literate. I 'should' be able to do this. I 'ought' to be able to understand. This 'should' be easy. Gah.

And grief. I have avoided the grief of the changes. I have avoided the grief of the endings and the leavings. Bypassed it with spirit. Bypassed it with prayer. Bypassed it with action. Bypassed it with alcohol. And now it is upon me, and I cannot bypass any longer. Now is time for grieving. To acknowledge all that I have been through this year, and cry for the losses. To feel the sorrow, and the anger, and the pain. Not to negate the positives. They are there, and will remain there - concomitant. The other side of the coin. This is all part of being human, and living this thing we call life. Don't mean it's comfortable of course. If it were comfortable, easy, there would be no alcoholics, drug addicts, yo-yo dieters, adrenalin junkies, escapism, depression, consumerism. Hey, at least I don't have any money to blow!

What I do have is a women's circle and a study group to connect with tomorrow and Wednesday. People of a common inclination to Be with. People who Know me, or are prepared to. People to whom it does not matter whether I read the same books or like the same TV or listen to the same music. People who can hear my sadness without feeling uncomfortable, or at least without feeling that they need to fix it, or rescue me from it. People that I trust in this response.

And soon. Soon will come the time when I need to address that trust issue within myself. I know where it comes from. Many years of psychotherapy and counselling have uncovered those stories. Now what I need to work on is my response to them. Awareness and compassion for my wounded self. I feel a ritual coming on ... And Equinox is soon. Although, perhaps new moon or Samhain would be better times. When the time is right, I will know.

And now my bath is almost drawn. So time to soak and settle. Good bye for now ...

Trust and Vigilance.

So today is a sad day. Ned Stark was beheaded, and I am missing my friends. One friend in particular. The one with whom I could just be. In any mood. Quiet and doleful, manic and fidgety. The one with whom conversation was easy, and my thoughts could be aired without censor. He knew I was mad in his eyes, and I knew I was mad in his eyes. So I could just be.

Here is new. I know many people, yes. And I am alone in my thoughts. Because no matter how much work I put in to train myself out of old patterns, trusting that I will not be humiliated for my ideas is the hardest old pattern to break. And yes. I fully believe that attack for ideas is because I am mirroring something that the other is triggered by. It is not personal to me. It is personal to them. And still, when feeling low of energy and low of mood - vulnerable - the fear is there, and the need to protect myself is strong.

I saw another friend today. Dinner at hers. It was a lovely evening. I spoke of my loneliness. Of the upheaval and change of this past year: leaving a marriage, leaving a career, leaving a home, leaving an area, loosing a child, the culmination of two years hard work in being ordained. My thirtieth year. My Chariot year. My Saturn Returns apparently. And full moon in two days as well. 

I spoke of the biological imperative that has taken over my body. MUST REPRODUCE!!! Different and separate from my desire to be held, my desire to have sex! Oh so horny. My intellect say no to children. It always has. It still does. And yet I meet men and I find myself assessing their genes. Hmmm, good nose, good hair, strong body, intelligent ... The list goes on. Must find a family planning clinic and get on those injections before my body starts urging me to 'forget' to take the pill. Because, interestingly, the urge is not for children, but for pregnancy. For creating, housing, nurturing that small human form in which a soul can reside for this Earthwalk. In fully knowing the Woman/Womb power my body holds.

I left feeling heavy with sadness, at the awareness that even here, with this woman I respect and admire - perhaps because I respect and admire her - I was not fully at ease. Full of the tired weariness that fills the bones. And I walked. Taking the route home that lead me along the sea front. Hot chocolate on my mind. Come To Me Priestess the sea whispered. Come To Me Lady. Not tonight, not tonight. I am tired and I want to sleep I replied. Come To Me Priestess. Come To Me Lady she called. And I found my weary legs crossing the road to find the steps down to her, all painted in silvery blue she was and firey in spirit tonight.

I climbed down, and trudged onto the beach. The going tough as I met the unstable surface of the pebbles. Tread Gently Lady, And Your Going Will Be Easier. And my feet fell in step with the rhythm of the waves. Down to her edge. Down to where the water crashes on the shore. Down to where the pebbles dance and sing. Come Closer Lady, Come Closer. I came closer, dancing and jumping back and fore with every crash. You're Skittish Tonight Lady, she called, not un-mockingly, not un-kindly. Come Closer Priestess. Trust Lady, Trust. And I stilled. Planting my feet, I stilled.

Wave after wave crashed on the shore, stopping centimetres before my feet. Watch Lady, Observe. I began to see in the darkness the shelf beneath the waves which caused them to break. I began to see in the darkness the pull back of each forerunner that quelled the power of the next. I began to see in the darkness an awesome wave that gathered the strength of the previous ones, and rushed towards the shore, towards me. That one's going to get me, but trust she said, trust. No, no, that one really is going to Get ME! I skidded and jumped and dashed up the pebble shelf behind me with laughter bubbling up and a squeal, but not before she soaked my feet. Trust Lady, But Remain Vigilant she called with a smile in her voice. Trust Yourself As Well As Me ...

And a saying pops into my head: Tether your horse and trust in Allah, but tether your horse first.

Welcome!

Well, here I am. Writing a blog. Who knew!?

Ani DiFranco is singing to me about the glory of the atom from the safe little womb that is the basement flat of my beloved friend. Surrounded by the Earth, the energy here is very different from my first floor flat above shops that I left behind to be here. My new tenants should be settling in now, and I wish them every happiness in the space that nurtured me through the phase of life I have just left.


And so here I am. The sea greets me from the end of the road every time I leave to go somewhere, and I have spent much time with her. Singing my stories. Singing my sadness. Singing my joy. Singing my gratitude. She was most beautiful a few days ago when we caught the end of the channel island storms. Her power humming in the air, bringing the smell of sea salt inland, and covering my glasses with a fine film. Here I have to remain vigilant in order to be able to see clearly! And then I ask: is this not always so?