Loki | bloodteethandflame

July 28, 2013

Month for Loki Day 27: Wolf Ankle Bracelet

About two weeks ago, my ankle bracelet broke.

It was sterling silver ankle bracelet that I wore on my left ankle. It had a sterling silver wolf charm, and three amber beads on it.

This is the second time that it has broken since V bought it for me.

As well, I’ve had to replace the wolf charm twice.

Back in February, the bail (that was soldered onto the back of the wolf) broke off while V and I were at an event. I found the wolf piece again, but it couldn’t be rejoined to the bail, so I ordered another wolf charm as a replacement sometime in March.

And all was well with it until July 11th.

Sometime on that day, the wolf charm must’ve fallen off, but unlike last time, I’ve not been able to find it.

Honestly, I don’t think that I’m ever going to.

So now I’ve placed the rest of the bracelet on Loki’s altar.

I’ve gotten the impression that might be the thing to do, and not because He is the finder of lost things.

As I said, I get the feeling that I’m not going to find that charm, and at this point, I don’t think that I’m going to try to replace it either, so I left it on His altar as an offering, if not, as a sort of commentary on the issue.

~~~

A little less than a year ago – possibly this past September — I had two dreams in rapid succession, that definitely seemed to relate to the BDSM dynamic that I was living in and my spirituality.

In the first dream, Loki and I were having a conversation. I don’t even remember what we had been talking about; all I recall is that, at one point in the conversation, my ankle bracelet caught His eye. I remember that I was in mid-sentence when He interrupted me to ask, “What’s this?” and He was referring to the ankle bracelet.

He leaned down to examine it on my ankle more closely. He flicked the wolf charm between His thumb and forefinger, looking at it curiously, as I explained to Him the reason why I wore the ankle bracelet, and why V had given it to me. V had meant it as a discreet way to signify another particular aspect of our relationship, I explained.

I remember the way that Loki tilted His head and smirked, as if He was skeptical of my bracelet and its meaning. While He may have been somewhat skeptical of the whole ‘meaning’ of my having such relationships in general, He also seemed intrigued.

I do recall that He asked me a few more questions about what that sort of commitment was supposed to mean, with the focus being specifically on what it meant to me.

I especially recall those light steely eyes of His flitting between being playful and intensely serious, talking about commitments, especially:

You have a wedding ring, He murmured, Is that not enough for (your husband)?

With that, He began to pull on my ankle bracelet, as if testing its strength, and I thought that He’d pull the wolf charm off of it at any moment, as I stuttered my reply.

When I’d finished speaking, He looked at me a long moment, and simply raised an eyebrow.

His silence made me feel awkward, almost chastised.

Then He let go of my ankle bracelet, and nodded at me, almost dismissively.

And He left the room.

And I woke up.

~~~
Several major changes have occurred since I had that dream, both in my life and in my relationships with V and with others who where in my life at the time.

And yet, until July 11th, I still wore that ankle bracelet.

Sometimes I get so used to things that, in their every day existence, they almost become an afterthought.

Sometimes objects take on meanings that stray far from original meanings and intent.

And sometimes, things just fall away, and I don’t realize that there’s been a change until something tangible is lost.

And when I think about what has happened between July 11th and today, it seems fitting to offer the rest of the ankle bracelet to Loki

… since what doesn’t serve does seem to fall away.

Eventually.

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July 27, 2013

Month for Loki Day 26: Return

As I am updating this on my phone, please forgive me any typos and formatting errors.

After 17 hours on the road, I am finally home.

Looking over my mail, I see a thin envelope from my employer.

It was a letter of separation.

For several months now, I’ve been half-expecting this. You see, I was cut from their rolls for not making my hours this quarter.

I shouldn’t be surprised. My employer had been trying to phase out their seasonal positions in favor of setting standards for part-time and full-time employees.

In a way, this situation was a long time in coming.

But that’s over now, and looking on the upside, this leaves room for other work that I could be doing.

So it’s not all bad.

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July 14, 2013

Month for Loki Day 13: Seeing, and Being Seen.

When I first decided to attend a Loki ritual for April Fool’s Day 2012, I was scared shitless.

Partly because of my social anxiety, and partly because I’d heard that – sometimes – these rituals could bring Him to you…

… And I’ll be honest:

I had a few nightmares that He’d reject me in some incredibly publicly humiliating way.

If not that, then I feared that everyone there would suddenly know that I didn’t belong, or something.

I felt sick to my stomach with worry and panic.

I am ashamed to admit to what I thought would happen, even now. My stomach knots up just thinking about it.

So there was the infinite battle between my self-doubt and fear, versus my desire to know, to experience the Divine.

You see, for the first year after I decided to embrace the situation I was in, I both hungered for and feared interaction with other Lokeans, as well as interaction with Loki himself.

Going to that ritual was an act of pushing myself out of a comfort zone on so many levels.

But I really felt that I had to go. I felt that I owed it to Him that I should go. It seemed to me to be exactly the sort of thing that He would want.

Well, Loki…and of course, Eleanor Roosevelt:

“We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face… we must do that which we think we cannot do.”

And when I got there, I was a wreck.

I was feeling such a bizarre mix of emotions.

To this day, I don’t know how much of it was me, how much it was possible empathic overload from those present, and how much of it was the Divine.

I felt itchy and irritable and grateful and terrified.

Everyone was so welcoming, and friendly.

But I was trying to hold myself in reserve. I felt like I was leaking my emotions all over the place.

It was as it was in my social anxiety nightmares — I felt as if everyone could sense what best could be described as my wild energy leakage (!) and that they were uncomfortable with me.

I kept checking myself:

Am I talking too much?

Am I enjoying myself?

How do I feel?

Am I acting weird? (Hell, I ‘m *feeling* weird. I am terrified. I am happy. I am confused. I feel a bit dizzy. I am uncomfortable. I am hungry. Something is poking me.** I’m having trouble focusing/listening/sitting still. OK, that *is* weird)

And so, all the while I was analyzing this incredible tangle of thoughts I was having, as I went and introduced myself.

It was exhausting and exhilarating and so very strange for me.

And I was OK.

But most importantly, I stayed and I didn’t cry or throw up or say anything too inappropriate, and I think that I came across as normal. (Well, mostly.)

I remember being nervous and uncoordinated about what to do with my hands during the invocation and hailing as we stood in the circle, but thankfully no one noticed or cared about my lack of ritual form.

I was really moved by the mask creation portion.

I still remember most of what I scribbled in my tiniest block handwriting all down each side of that face that I made for myself. I wrote:

I cannot see under the right eye of the mask. (That is my lazy eye, which really doesn’t physically see very well)

I want to see.
I am frightened.
I am nervous.
I feel unworthy
(And several other negative aspects/attributes written)

I want to move beyond this. I am blinded by these (obstacles written)

Under my left eye (my seeing eye), I wrote:

I can see.
I want to be seen.
I am grateful.
I am thankful.
(Other positive attributes written)

I want to continue to see. I want to remember/recognize these (positive aspects/attributes written) in myself and others.

In the middle of the mask, I wrote a few phrases that drew upon both left and right.

On the side of the mask that faces out, I wrote some things about myself that I allow others to see and know about me.

On the side of the mask facing in, I wrote some things that I see and know about myself that I choose to hide.

Initially I’d made the eye opening very small on the right side to represent all that I couldn’t see. After I’d finished writing, however, I cut out the edges of the right eye so that the two openings were even.

I realize now that it was sort of a wish, or a prayer for more balance between the left and the right.

—-

The other lovely thing about the ritual was that one could choose to hold onto their mask and make an offering of it on one’s own altar at home, or the mask itself could be burned as an offering.

I liked the concept of the burning the mask as a recognition and a release – more than to hold onto it as a recognition and a reminder -of the masks that one wears.

When I burned the mask, I had trouble getting the paper to burn.

I remember that I had to push the paper quite far into the flames before it caught.

I recall looking down and wondering idly if I would have to reach so far in that my sleeve would catch fire in the process.

And, you know what happened next?

As I was pushing the paper forward, my thumb brushed – and briefly stuck to a bright orange ember, which, not surprisingly, caused me just enough pain to get me to finally let go of the paper.

I’ve got this.

As I watched the mask being consumed by the flames, I rubbed my thumb, wondering if it would blister.

But thankfully, it never did.

But if it had, I would’ve seen it as my first object lesson…of which He might have quipped:

Ah, I see that you have an inability to let go.

~~~~

When I was a little girl, my Nana (a devout Irish Catholic) would try to ensure my good behavior by reminding me that God could see me always, but as you may have guessed, I wanted so desperately *not* to be seen.

Oh, if only I could run. If only I could hide …

~~~

In June 2011, I decided to stop running.

And in April 2012, I decided that I would make an effort to stop hiding.

I will admit that I still have my moments, but despite them, He is relentless.

And I am thankful for that.

I see you.

And in that, I make this grateful prayer:

Hail Loki!

Thank You for Your patience with me, Oh Relentless One.

Thank You for seeing me.

❤

~~~

** I swear, I felt like something was poking me. THAT WAS WEIRD.

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July 7, 2013

Month for Loki #7: Sociable.

So I was laying on the bed last night, full of Fireball whiskey, and watching a spider make its way deftly across the ceiling.

I had just returned from a party, a Saturday barbecue, and as I lay there, I was thinking about Loki.

I was also thinking about how the party and all of the aspects of the party that had a Lokean stamp to them:

There was a prodigious variety of alcoholic beverages, much barbecuing of meat (seafood being the only meat that, surprisingly, wasn’t being grilled), multiple side vegetable and pasta dishes that, strangely enough, prominently featured bacon as a garnish, and of course, the dessert table was full of cake, chocolate, and various incarnations of alcohol infused cake and chocolate…and perhaps, even bacon, too.

I also noticed much revelry around me that Loki would have likely much appreciated: there was much dancing, singing, laughter, and argument that was rife with flirtatious wit and sexual innuendo between damned near everyone there.

(I was told these gatherings often ended with skinny-dipping and various poly folks sometimes coupling up into an inevitable sleepover until the next morning… though I left shortly after midnight, so I didn’t participate in that aspect of the festivities, actually.)

Nonetheless, I drifted off to sleep in my bed, with a drunken singalong rendition of “Shake Your Ass For Me” looping endlessly in my brain.

I was exhausted.

~~~

So what is my offering for Loki here?

I can be a socially anxious misanthrope.

Going to such a party as I’d attended last night often makes an exhausted wreck of me. One would not probably notice, but even if it is a party attended by people that I know and want to see/hang with, I still find myself making last-minute excuses not to attend such gatherings…or attending, and being a quiet, unassuming wallflower, nursing a tepid, weakly alcoholic beverage, and pushing down all the little anxieties that endless crop up in my brain, as people approach me. I nod and smile, and feeling like an anxious fraud — inwardly wondering, am I doing this right? Am I being sociable enough? Am I talking too much/enough?

Even though these are dear, beloved friends of mine greeting and embracing me at the door; these are folks that I’ve known for years talking to me. We are catching up on what has happened since we’ve seen each other last week, last month, last year. Sometimes, I find myself introducing myself to their partners, their friends, their acquaintances: “Do you know?…Oh, so nice to meet you!..I am….”

But there is inward self-talk going on, a pep talk if you will, as I reach out to each person, and it occurs often enough to run in the background of most of my social interactions with others at a crowded gathering of people.

I will be in the presence of friends. I am in the presence of friends….That is what I say to myself as I am preparing to go to such a gathering. Sometimes, I even find myself inwardly chanting this as I stand on the front step, just moments before I enter a friends’ home.

And, of course, that chant is after I’ve confronted the concept, at least once, of Not Going. It’s guaranteed that I’ve previously run through that script (the litany of Reasons Not to Go) at least once before any social interaction, no matter how small, or how much I’ve planned, or even looked forward to the interaction.

Allie Brosh might know what I mean.

And so, I attended this gathering, as I do all large gatherings featuring people and food and music, and I pushed myself out of my comfort zone. To interact, to laugh, to allow myself to enjoy myself.

I deny myself this way. This is one of the ways that I’ve told myself that I don’t need. I don’t Need to Go. Do I? I convince myself that I have reasons not to. So much easier not to engage. It might be emotionally easier to do this some other time. I make myself uncomfortable, I convince myself that Socializing Today is Something that I Cannot Do Today. I will see my friends some other day. I don’t need to see (insert name of friend) today.

But, then inevitably, I have always felt that nudge: Oh yes. Yes you do. Go.

If I have gotten far enough in my head to get there, then I might be telling myself, I don’t need again.

I don’t need to talk.

I don’t need to dance.

I don’t need to have a piece of cake.

I don’t need to participate. To talk, to dance, to eat a piece of cake requires opening up to participating in a party; it is the essence of a social experience, is it not? It is social interaction like talking, eating, dancing that makes a party.

So, there I am, at the party. I might have been talking. I might even be holding a plate of food. And if I have gotten that far, I might even be wondering as to whether or not I am enjoying myself. I try not to think about it.

I don’t need to enjoy.

And the nudging again, last night, always, to stop checking myself, to stop telling myself of what I need or do not need…

It’s OK to enjoy. Just relax.

Thankfully, last night, I got far enough out of my own head enough to socialize with some dear friends. I even introduced myself to a few new people. I ate some delicious barbecue, and drank some whiskey. I watched as some other acquaintances danced and flirted. I laughed and I shared a few stories. I might have even flirted a little. I sang along to the songs I knew.

All good, enjoyable interactions.

But…No, I did not dance. Perhaps some other time.

I laughed. I ate and drank and sang.

I interacted. I enjoyed.

That was enough for me. That was enough for last night, anyway.

Perhaps I will dance with my friends another time. Dancing at a party is a little bit beyond my comfort level, I think to myself.

But maybe it will not seem as far next time, I wonder.

There’s comfort in next time.

~~~

Hail Loki, pusher of boundaries. I will dance, next time. Next time.

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May 2, 2013

Amicule deliciae num is sum qui mentiar tibi?

So I was close to grasping the meaning of my dream that I had the other night…

Now I’m pretty sure that I know what the ferryman in that dream was saying.

Do you know what that Latin quote means?

It means

‘ Baby, sweetheart, would I lie to you?’

All I can say is this:

I know who the ferry man is referring to, and it isn’t himself, of course.

Another case of ‘I see what you did there.’

and using sarcasm about lying to point me to the truth.

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February 27, 2013

Drawing you into existence.

Sometimes, I wish that I could sit and write all day.

So much stuff on my mind.

But I wake up every day promising myself that I’ll get to the mundane things, like folding laundry, or sorting out the filing cabinets, but then, things occur to me.

I get ideas.

I have epiphanies.

Connections between things begin to strike me, and I have this incredible need to write them down…because I fear that I’ll forget what it was that I meant to say, what I sought to remember, and everything seems so fucking important.

Not so important as to share with the blogosphere as much as it’s important to me that I don’t forget the connections that I came to. I feel like I am remembering a lot of stuff that I had previously forgotten, lately.

So, I write in my notebook -my paper journal – and I promise myself that I will flesh it out later, and I hope that I don’t forget where I was going entirely, if I should find myself going back -after I’m done with the laundry — to read that rough outline of thoughts.

~~~

And other times, I get the urge to draw…and I wish that I could draw well enough to convey what is without words.

In that, too, sometimes I wish that I could sit and draw all day.

So this is me making a placeholder, of sorts, about a specific hit-me-like-a-ton-of-bricks moment that hit me this morning — about when I was younger — like age 11 or so — and how I used to draw incessantly.

And the subject matter concerned one particular thing.

There’s a connection there, today.

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February 10, 2013

From my paper journal 2-10-13

(from my paper journal 2-10-13. Raw contents below)

It is 3:30 AM, and I’ve got things on my mind.

The other night, I had the opportunity to ask someone any question that I wanted…for free…but I could not think of anything to ask that was ‘safe’ for me to know. I want answers, sure…but when faced with such a lovely opportunity, I felt that if I asked something that had been really weighing on me, I felt that one, possibly two things would happen:

a) I would get an answer, and be disturbed by it. Could I handle the answer? Such as the comment, Oh do you really want to know? ‘cause once I give you an answer, that means that you’ll have to deal with the issue at hand, which is the issue you are asking about, isn’t it?
.
b) No matter how I feel about the answer, I do feel that my asking would definitely mean that I have to deal with it. In some ways, I feel that the asking would require opening the door to dealing with things that I might not want to deal with right now. Sometimes I think I have enough on my plate.

But still the conversation was a good one.

And it gave me other food for thought, and caused a musing which I am working out here:

At one point in the conversation, my divine friend muttered, Oh well, but you are married.
As if I thought his interest in me was not legitimate.

(Wait now, there’s a traditional monogamous response. But if it was not – and monogamy shouldn’t come from me because my husband and I consider ourselves poly — I realized another angle that he could’ve been getting at.)

I realized that – while it might have been a tad bit disrespectful – I could have shot back, Well, so are you. You are married to someone, too — and several dozen others, I might add –so what is your point? You want to talk about monogamy?
I’m not monogamous. I’m polyamorous.(Ah, l’esprit d’escalier…where were you?)

(But that is where I wonder if the human filter comes into play, too, but I’m going to put that discussion aside for right now.)

Either way,I suppose that it would have been disrespectful calling my friend out like so, but there may be a kernel of something else embedded in his statement, because further on, I recall there being some difficulty. “He’s talking about things that I don’t understand…”

And I for one was curious about these things that weren’t understood, and I wonder if they have anything to do with the thoughts that kept me awake tonight.

Much as the world doesn’t need more categorization, I do think that it is human nature to try to categorize anyway. It helps our understanding, this need to break down situations into smaller, easier pieces.

There is talk of hierarchies and how they are bad, and some polyamorous people might even insist that all of their relationships are equally weighted in polyamory. Some of these poly folks dislike using terms such as ‘primary’ partner and ‘secondary’ partner, because that implies that the ‘primary’ is the most important relationship, and furthering that logic, doesn’t that mean that a secondary is…’second best’?

In theory, no…but in practice, maybe, yes. Does anybody ever want to feel ‘second best’?**

Our egos say ‘no, of course not.’ But polyamory done in reality does cause one participating in a polyamorous relationship to confront, or at least unpack, one’s views on that very situation. I would hazard to guess that most people participating in polyamorous relationships today were raised by parents living in a monogamous relationship, and so, just like polytheistic pagans who come from monotheistic religious backgrounds, people living in polyamorous relationships are also dealing with the first step of unpacking what having multiple partners is going to mean to them, and to the people in the relationships with them. And that can be hard work, trying to create a working relationship dynamic that involves several people, rather than just you and one other person. One must examine one’s personal values and priorities in relationships. One must hone one’s communication skills. Lots of thought and action needs to be done in order for any good relationship to work, let alone, a polyamorous relationship to work.

This is where I might get a little personal when I point out that I believe that the polyamorous relationships that have a greater potential to go awry are the ones that begin with a couple who are *primarily involved* in a term-committed dynamic with each other (whether it’s a long term committed relationship, a BDSM structured dynamic, or a marriage), and a third party (or parties) become involved.

There doesn’t even have to be love involved; the key is the commitment, or perhaps even the intensity of the existing relationship. Some poly people call this ‘opening up’ a relationship, and if one started from a committed primary relationship, it definitely is.

Why do I say that there is so much more to go awry? Well because in any structured committed relationship in a couple – egalitarian or not – the dynamic involves people placing significance on another, or at least, resolving to pay some significant attention to one another. Whether they formally promised to or not, there is the assumption that each is seeing the other as important, special, what-have-you. We are in a relationship. We matter to each other. We are a team; we are a two person dynamic.

But here comes a third person. Now that third person may be single, or may be in another relationship themselves (with or without varying levels of commitment), but in that third person wanting to have a relationship with one (or even both) of you, that third person is going to have an impact on the existing relationship of the couple(s) involved. This is why there is a saying in polyamorous circles that the three important rules of polyamory are:
1. Communication
2. Communication
3. Communication.

And I would also say this about a lot more than polyamorous relationships – any relationship with human beings can always stand to involve better, if not more, communication.

And I will tell you that the first thing that essentially comes up is attention. And this is where the math agony comes in. The primarily committed relationship might have had a factor of two. Even if it wasn’t a perfect 50-50, it was there.

You are my partner, and I am your partner. Whether or not you talked about it, your relationship required you to involve that one other person in your math calculations every day. That person (your partner) may have only gotten 30% of your time and attention for the day, because your partner might be competing for attention against the 70% of your other daily time and attention commitments (job, kids, daily commute, household chores, etc), but there was an unspoken resolution that you were going to spend some portion of your day at least being aware of each other’s existence, even if it’s only in thoughts, rather than physical presence.

But here’s this third person, who wants to have a relationship with you. How much time/attention/commitment does s/he get? That third person and the relationship that s/he represents, is going to require a piece in your personal equation, as it would be with any other commitment in your life. To be fair, is it a factor of 3 now? Maybe, maybe not. How important is s/he to you?

If I was going to be mathematically PC about it, I’d say that the third probably deserves at least a third of your ‘relationship equation,’ right?

But, speaking as a person who has made these mistakes, people aren’t always able to fit neatly into mathematical equations. Sometimes, one partner – and the relationship –requires more attention/time/commitment than others.

In my personal experience – especially in the relationship that ended as of late – you can believe that you have a nice three-way egalitarian relationship, and you might even have that, to some degree. The goal is that all of your partners feel loved, cherished, and important in your life (and in each other’s lives, as the case may be.) That is some smooth sailing polyamory. You’ve accomplished a delightful almost magical synergy when everything falls together, and you’re all in sync, even if you are not involved with each other. (Even though, supposedly, we were involved with each other.)

That’s where communication comes in. You can’t have synergy if there is a lack of communication anywhere in the system. That creates a gap between what you believe you have and what you actually have in terms of the relationship, and that can be a problem. I will be honest, that commitment to honest communication is a very important part.

But when two becomes three is the hardest part.

Even if the situation wherein ‘the initial primary partner has an issue with all the attention/significance lavished on another partner’ is a more common thorny issue in polyamory, there are other issues that can – and sometimes do – crop up often.

In my experience, the above situation is cake compared to this one:

This is when one partner has to convince one of the two in your triad that the existence of the main relationships –or other significant relationships – shouldn’t create a crisis of belief.
“You have a primary/significant/term relationship that existed before I came along. That means that I am not as significant as the pre-existing one.” ( Or as it is more commonly put, “Oh well, but you’re married. I don’t want to be anybody’s secondary…”)

Though, I believe that these two scenarios actually spring from the same issue at the heart of it: relationship imbalance.

Is this monogamy talking? Or at least, a line of thinking framed in a monogamous paradigm.

That, my friends, gives me all sorts of feelings today.
Are relationships in polyamory actually equal?

In theory, yes. In practice, perhaps, no
.
Even if you don’t use the words ‘primary’ and ‘secondary’ and what have you, the hierarchy can still be there in some slight way. Most would assume that a husband/wife, by its socially sanctioned definition, is more significant than a boyfriend/girlfriend.

But it depends on how you define those terms. And as it is with any socially significant word (a signifier, I suppose) husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, there’s an emotionally charged social shorthand that can be extremely difficult to get around.

For example, if you had asked me several years ago, did I want to have equal relationships with more than one person, I would have told you yes.

So why did I get married?

For many reasons, but not because I thought that my husband was going to be the single, most important person in my life, possibly for all time….which is how a lot of folks (polyamorous included!) see the emotional meaning of husband/wife.

I see being a wife differently. I definitely see it as a term of commitment – I made a significant commitment, and I wear a ring as a tangible sign of that commitment – but its meaning, to me, is not nearly as singularly narrow a definition as what most people might think.

Do I feel naked without that ring? Yes, but I think that it is more likely because I have been wearing it for 20 years, so it has made its mark on my finger.

And yes, I believe in marks.
And I believe in the weight of them.
~~~
So, how does my polyamory relate to the Gods?
I am attempting to sort that out.
~~~
“Oh well, but you’re married.”

Maybe the angle my lovely friend wishes me to consider is this: He doesn’t want to be my third; he doesn’t want to be my secondary, either. He wants himself and any and all work that he requires to be of primary importance.

Marriages are commitments. Marriages tangle wyrd. Marriages require negotiation. Marriages carry social and emotional weight.

I was arguing in my head right then, and I think on this more and more as the day goes on.

Well so are you. You’re married as well. I can think of at least three marriages of yours that I could read about in most university libraries.
And then, dozens more that I’ve heard of…and even if they aren’t all written down for me to read, I’ve no doubt that you’ve left your mark on ALL of them.

So, I’m polyamorous. It’s not like my marriage gets in the way like you might think.
~~~
Or does it?

Does he know how much this connects? I realize that I have a little bit of leftover rage that I’m feeling…that not necessarily at him, but definitely at those words.
Rage towards recent ex who tried to shut me down with those very words.

(Isn’t that what she was screaming? ** Oh, well, but you’re married! You. Wouldn’t. Understand.)

I could never understand, in her opinion.
Because I drank the KoolAid.
Because I wore the ring.
Because I made a commitment. ( Marriage was, oddly, a commitment that she could never make, she insisted, as she called me from the restroom of a VFW in Atlanta. She was attnding the October wedding of an ex-girlfriend of hers. I hate weddings, she said.)

I never knew what she meant, but that was her excuse. That was her block. She saw it as such a separation. The fact that I was married to someone had so much meaning, even though I was married to a man, and she often claimed that she loved him too.

I did not know what she meant when she screamed those very same words at me that night, or why she wanted to punch me while saying them…
But I opened my mouth and I let my own self go to a very dark, surreal place, and let’s just say that, we had our own Heathir-senna right then and there.

All the words just poured out.

And I left.
~~~
“Oh well, but you’re married.”

I wrote that all out just now –about J and that night that we broke up — and I don’t know if I want to laugh or flail.

The words that I said to her that night felt like the truth, even though they hurt us all very badly.

I have never made anyone that I love cry as hard as I did that night, but there was something also very necessary about them.

I remember what I said.

I hope that I don’t soon forget.

(But now the question remains – for my sock puppets to debate endlessly I guess –)
If there isn’t any such thing as a coincidence:

Why would he choose those very words to say to me on a Friday night, over a month later?
~~~
I read with interest Del’s latest entry about sacrifice and spiritwork.

And highlighted for me, again, is the message that the Gods will remove what gets in the way of the work.

~~~
And so I ponder Del’s entry, my sock puppets and I.

I cannot sleep and I cannot stop for my pondering of All These Things.

I am pondering about Loki, polyamory, spirit work, the meaning of ‘opening up’, and the nature of these coincidences that may or may not be… coincidences.

And I know — because hopefully, I am learning — to hold my tongue on asking any direct questions until I figure out as the whether or not I can handle the answers.

But as the questions come up, I write them on the whiteboard, because it is something worth thinking about.
~~~

(http://youtu.be/V8rtJRlLdI8)
If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to

~~~~

But despite everything, there is love.
❤

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January 17, 2013

Open up.

I had an interesting dream the other night. Monday or Tuesday, maybe.

It was totally silent, as if I was watching a film of some sort, and there wasn’t any sound that I could hear in it. Several times I tried to speak, and no sound would come out. That alone disconcerted me a bit, since I am prone to nightmares that hinge upon me being unable to do something necessary and/or important, and this just seemed like another one of those.

Sometimes L shows up in these dreams — or rather lately, L has been showing up as himself rather than taking the face of someone else in these dreams — but he doesn’t talk.

He just looks at me, maybe smiles a little.

Sometimes he’ll make a gesture, such as pointing to something in the place that we’re in, or he’ll be holding something in his hands that he’ll be wanting to show me.

Sometimes, I just see him in the background, somewhere…like we are playing a game of Where’s Waldo, or I-Spy, and I usually wake up shortly after seeing him.

But in this dream, it began with him just sitting cross-legged on the right side of my bed.

The creepy thing is, I had been sleeping in the dream, and I woke up to see him there.

And it took a lot for me not to ‘jump out’ of dreaming and wake up.

And we sat looking at each other.

He squinted his eyes like he was examining my face.

In the dream, I was feeling worn, but anxious, because here was company, and I was laying in bed.

Even though, I didn’t feel well, it was the typical anxiety that I get when feeling sick, I’ve got to get up because I’ve got to… I should offer a drink, I should put on coffee…no, I’m OK, let me just…get up…

And I turned slightly, preparing to get out of bed.

And then L did the oddest thing.

It didn’t make sense to me then, but he reached out and touched my face.

I thought that he was being nice, so I stopped turning, and let it be.

I could feel the tips of his fingers against my cheek, and his thumb pressed against my jawline, holding my face.

Gentle, kinda sweet.

L was holding my face in his hands.

And then, even more strangely, he pushed his fingers and thumb firmly against my lips and teeth, and with quick, light pressure, coaxed me to open my mouth.

The expression on his face just then was difficult to describe; not smiling, not frowning, but suddenly, I was aware that he seemed focused on something, seemingly examining something about my mouth.

My brain scrambled through possibilities, as I felt his other hand cradle the back of my head.

I was watching his face, and he mouthed the word, Open as his fingers pulled gently on my chin to open my mouth a bit more.

And suddenly, I took a deep breath, and…. I don’t know how to describe it, it seemed the most fulfilling breath I had ever taken.

Suddenly every feeling that I had felt since the beginning, all the nerves, all the stress, all the weariness and fear that I felt about anything and everything…about him, and not about him…was there.

And I could let it out… in one breath.

~~~
Of course, I tried to talk, just then, to say ‘Thank you’ and so forth, but no sound would come.

And, of course, when I looked at L, he just sat back, smiled slightly, raised one eyebrow, and mouthed, Open

I took another deep breath,like you do when you are learning to swim, and you want to fill up your lungs, because you are about hold it all in for your dive into deep water

But L leaned forward, looked me in the eye, and mouthed, Open

And every. time. I would not, or forget, or worse, tried to talk,

It was

Open

And when I woke up, however, I tried to test my voice, and my throat was raspy and dry.

Well, I’ve been coming down with a cold these past few days, so I chalked this dream up to simply that my brain chose to examine the seeming inevitability that I would probably get laryngitis if I didn’t take care of my throat.

And maybe, the raspiness was due to the fact that I had slept too long, breathing through my mouth, so…that could be the possible explanation, right?

One thing leads to another…

But I didn’t really connect the details that I remembered with having anything to do with anything more than that.

~~~

And today, today I find out that “Ah” is the simplest sound that a human can make. Just open your mouth and push the sound out. A sigh. A gasp. An exclamation of understanding. A discovery.**

Ah.

I just have to open up.

~~~

**”…the tone of “Ah” which is really wonderful, and helps close holes in the auric field when one is really tired. Very simple…..drop your jaw, and say Ahhhhhh….with a bit of a musical tone, and focus on your 3rd eye. I’ve taught it to tons of folks, and it works so great to stop losing energy especially in stressful situations.” Thank you, Ms. L.F.P!

~~~

Edited (again) to add: Hail Loki!

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December 4, 2012

A kid’s eye view.

My younger son drew this some time ago.

I was talking to a friend earlier this afternoon, and I mentioned that my youngest son often draws pictures of the Norse gods.

This particular picture was a gift for me, because I had been having an awful day, and K wanted to cheer me up.

(In case you could not guess, it is a drawing of Loki (Loce) and his daughter, Hela (Hal).)

And I must say, it *did* cheer me up…especially the fact that Hela is smiling.

Who wouldn’t be cheered by Hela smiling?

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July 17, 2012

Autocorrect

OK, before I forget all the little things that I’ve been meaning to post — most of which makes me look sideways and grin to downright feeling a mixture of awe while simultaneously fighting the urge to flail — here’s one thing that just delights me:

I have a friend who is driving down from Atlanta tomorrow. We are texting back and forth this evening, about how excited we are to be seeing each other tomorrow. She is making me laugh with her turns of phrase, and whenever I try to type ‘LOL’

…..autocorrect changes it to ‘LOKI’

Her: <insert funny/flirtatious turn of phrase>

Me: LOKI!

Her: ?

Me: autocorrect! I meant LOL!

Her: Oh OK. 🙂

And that happened a two more times after that…

🙂

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Category: Loki