Monday, August 28, 2017

Home is not a place

It's people, music, a fire beneath the stars
It doesn't scare me to travel
I know I can carry what I need
Or make something new where I land
I developed this skill young
Having to reinvent myself 
Trying to escape
Do we all have this in common?
Those who flock to Your side
Carpet bags and makeshift lanterns
Terrified of rejection
Unable to breathe through the tears
You love us anyway or Maybe because of
All of our scars and missing parts
Our desperate searching, wandering
Looking for wholeness, for acceptance
A place to simply know what it's like to breathe
Home isn't something I have trusted
Love can be revoked
Everything is temporary
This is both a comfort and pain

It's not like this is new

This is not the first time
There are cycles in everything
And the old one is coming around again
I feel You tonight
Needing me
And I think this might be the first time
When You've been quiet
In this particular way
Making me wonder
Is there something I missed
Something I don't see
In this time around
I don't want to be pessmistic
I've had enough of that poison Anxiety
But I still lose sleep
Worrying about what was and could be
I'm reading too much into things
You've asked for comfort
And I'm not sure what that means

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

The Tower

Once again, Fire races through
My carefully balanced towers
Kin and community rock and threaten to fall
And I feel so guilty
I tend to break things
I always tell myself and blame myself
I want to just dump the chess board
Just forget to try
I Hang onto Hope
I am stubborn
Maybe something is salvageable
Something can evolve from the mud and rubble
In that moment of grief, doubt, panic
You ask, What about me?
I cannot leave You, even if everyone else does
I keep my promises
I'll keep pushing and working to build
To change and fix what needs to be fixed
This can be fixed
It may require a sacrifice
But I'll keep the parts that are still living
And cut away the rot
Fire can also heal

Chameleon

I am not charismatic
People are not drawn to me
I've had moments in my youth
When I danced in the rain
When I made people laugh
When I was stubbornly me
And a magnet for the party
I've spent decades trying to blend in
I've forgotten how not to
The survival instinct helps keep you alive
But little pieces are sacrificed on the road
How do I keep it all together?
How do I grow and expand?
How does a chameleon not change it's colors?
Learn to contrast instead of camouflage?
I'm tired and sad
It's July
Perhaps good things will come in August
Maybe I can learn to peel back the layers
Of lies I tell myself
Remove and confront another mask
It feels like it's getting closer

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Rorschach and Sigyn

So here is a mind blowing realization I had in the shower today.

I've been hearing the voices of deities much more than I have in years. I was numb and closed off for more than a decade due to trauma and life's stress. I lost touch with spirituality for a long time. But funny how when your leg goes numb, when the blood rushes back in, the pinprick feeling is painful and fierce.

I've been feeling that on a spiritual level lately.  And the gods I love have been telling me that They've been around me for a long time.  It has just started occurring to me how long that has been.

I have been told repeatedly by teachers and other people I have had intellectual connections to, that my mind works in weird ways. I have a tendency to be able to find connections that even scholars miss. I did a research English Theory paper in which I compared two pieces that apparently no one had ever done before. I asked my prof about it because I couldn't find resources for comparing the two, and he basically told me in all his years that he had never seen anyone connect the two.  I was the first.  And as a note, I got an A on the paper.

There are other experiences like this during my teaching and English Lit degree course work and Master's work.  But I'll leave that as it may be.

So I'm in the shower today and I'm meditating on the kenning I use for Sigyn: Priestess at the Cauldron, and Her more well-known one Incantation Fetter.

And I'm thinking about how if we use the Cave Story with Loki and Sigyn as an allegory instead of a literal events, it takes on a whole new light.  Very simply, we have a God of Fire held fast to three stones. This is like the sacred fire with a tripod over it.  And on this tripod we have a cauldron, or Sigyn's bowl.  The poison of the snake that drips into it could be "Goddess Goo" or distilled and pure energy of the cosmos.  In the story it is represented a poison, but poisonous potions in small doses can also be curative.  Sigyn, is then the Priestess who stirs the brew, chanting or canting over it to Manifest some magickal transformation. Alchemy!

But here is where it gets mind blowing and has me kinda reeling.

When I was in school my senior year, I took a creative writing class with one of my favorite teachers. She had been teaching a long time.  I actually was in the same grade as her son at the time.  So, she was showing us a Rorschach image and asking us to write down what we see.  I initially wrote that I saw a bug but then I dismissed that. Everyone sees insects in these things.  So I looked again.  When my turn came to tell her, I said I saw what looked like a cauldron with flames around the sides, three swords in the cauldron and a wizard or witch behind it.  Her eyes about popped out of her head.  She said in her decades of teaching, using the same ink blot, she had never heard anyone say anything remotely like that.

And today I thought, what if that was Sigyn's influence at the time and She has been with me or calling me all this time?

Holy Crap