Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can get you in a lot of trouble.
Manners are always important.
Smart is good. Lucky is better. (Smart and lucky is the best of all.)
Sometimes the long way around is the best way home.
Never let the truth interfere with a good story.
(Neef’s Rules for Changelings from this book)
Even though I know
Not everything that comes up in my life is a message.
Not everything in my life in my life has a hidden meaning.
And most importantly of all…
I know that if there is a message or a meaning
the message and the meaning aren’t
always
specifically
meant for me.
But then again, certain things show up in my reading and I have to wonder
Just what is the Universe up to?
I’ve been meaning to post about several things, the most of which is a very long post that contains a lot of musing about community, polyamory — and of course, Loki.
But as much as I have been wanting to finish it up, I have been down with a seemingly unshakable cold that is kicking my ass, and thus, I’m having trouble generating the level of coherence that I need in order to complete that task.
(So I’d like to apologize to anyone who has been waiting for that promised post. I hope to get it done soon.)
~~~
Meanwhile, I’m focusing on completing several embroidery and beading projects, as I find them rather soothing activities, since I haven’t had much energy to be vertical much these past few days.
As a result, I finished two devotional necklaces that I’d been working on, since I’ve finally received those green kyanite beads that I ordered for them, and I started embroidering the other three borders for that altar cloth.
Here is one of the necklaces:
~~~
And here are the roses that were sent to cheer me up.
Scene: A popular restaurant where I frequently have lunch.
(I am looking at the menu, and I realize much to my dismay that the restaurant no longer offers the version of chicken sandwich that I love.)
Me: (dismayed at the lack of my favorite chicken sandwich.)
L: But look! There’s a new version of your chicken sandwich.
Me: I don’t want to try that new sandwich. What if… I hate it?
L: Well. Have you ever considered what if… you love it?
<trolls>Oh no…you just might! <trolls>
So. I suggest that you try that sandwich.
Me: I might.
L: You should. *grins*
Me: (orders the sandwich)
L: ….
Me: OK. I think…I think I love it.
L: *eyeroll* This is… My not-surprised face.
~~~Later~~~
Me: Hopefully, in my next life, I’ll be more easygoing and cheerful.
L: Tell Me why you couldn’t be more easygoing and cheerful in this life.
Me: It’s too late.
L: It’s never too late to decide to be happy.
~~~
So, this seems to have become a thing.
‘Hypothetical chicken sandwich’ seems to be our conversational shorthand for a moment when I refuse to adapt or choose to fight an inevitable change:
The past few days have been so incredibly stressful/awful/what-have you.
This past Sunday being Mother’s Day did not help. (For some context on that, you can read some here.)
And again, I am aware that some of it is my own damned fault…and yet some of it is not.
But I am reminded that only I can change myself, and only I can change my attitude about what’s been happening.
I cannot change anyone else, nor can I change their attitude.
But nonetheless, whenever I have the sort of time that I have been having – a time which seems damned near insurmountable some days – I get this song as a reminder:
And following that, I usually get the Universal poke to the head from Him, thusly:
I swear to Gods, I’m not a wreck all of the time.
But lately, one might think so, judging by how often I have chosen to write posts that detail my latest struggles.
So, in an effort to be more positive, I wanted to post something that makes me happy.
This is one of my Loki altars:
This altar happens to be the first thing that I see every morning and the last thing that I see every night. And, as you might imagine, it holds several devotional items that have come to have a lot of meaning for me lately.
First, there is the very large picture of Himself, a special commission that I had done (for my 43rd birthday) by talented Pagan artist, Kimberly Williams. While this picture might not be everyone’s cup of tea – as some folks are of the opinion that He has a frighteningly voracious grin – but I find His grin tremendously comforting, if not downright friendly at the end of a particularly trying day.
Secondly, there are those lovely – and powerful! -Loki prayer beads purchased from Fiberwytch on Etsy. I can’t say enough how much I love and heartily recommend Beth Lynch’s work. The beads often reflect light with a lot of fire and flash whenever I use them, and the hematite and jackfruit beads are positively silky to the touch. The sleepy fox charm, on the other hand, comes across to me as more adorable than sneaky, and that’s just fine with me.
Overall, these prayer beads are a joy to handle and use. I pack them whenever I will be away from home overnight.
Thirdly, is my latest purchase -also from Fiberwytch – a tinned candle with a wooden wick for Loki that is so strongly scented of espresso that my family often insists that I must be brewing a bottomless pot of fresh coffee in the bedroom. (Though I would imagine that He wouldn’t mind that one bit.) As well, the wooden wick does crackle like a miniature bonfire – which also sounds and smells woodsy and wonderful – creating the perfect atmosphere for Lokean meditations.
And so there you have it -three of my favorite devotional items made by two talented Pagan artisans – both of whom I would highly recommend.
~~~
Perhaps tomorrow, I will post some of my own personal artwork, crafts, and offerings that I have been making to the Gods
….as well as the beginnings of my latest long-term fun project that I’m hoping to expand upon this summer.
❤
I’m spending this Sunday morning by the ocean.
It is quiet; almost peaceful. This morning is a landscape of muted blues and soothing greys bordered in shades of white and brown.
I am surprised that I have not seen many seagulls, but I have seen a lot of crows.
I was awakened by several of them calling to each other this morning, over the soothing rhythm of the waves. (These are two unrelated but much welcomed sounds to me, and this makes me happy.)
They left a few glossy black feathers on the balcony.
I have made a decision.
When I am old, and accountable to few but myself, I am going to live by the ocean.
While I am quite certain that there will always be an ocean
I hope that there will always be crows.
Another emotional weekend.
Another chain of days wherein I am left contemplating the line between being compassionate and being naive.
~~~
And here. Here is a foolish thing.
This morning while I was out walking my dog, I noticed at least a dozen black vultures perched upon the streetlights lining the parkway that runs along a significant portion of my daily route. Even though vultures usually don’t roost in my neighborhood very often, I figured that there must have been some fresh roadkill somewhere. (I didn’t — and I still don’t — want to assume that their presence has any at all to do with the fact that that I’ve also been dreaming of vultures a lot lately. I comfort myself to think that there has to be some other mundane reason.)
So, as I was walking toward quite a large cluster of them, I realized much to my dismay, that, with the way in which the road was laid out, I was going to have to walk past several streetlights in the row.
And I was going to have to pass beneath quite a number of them where they were perched.
(Yes, I’ll admit that I feared being…hissed at and shat upon.)
As I got closer, I began to walk more briskly, all the while telling myself that I am going to be OK, I’m just passing through…this is not something that I can avoid. These are just…vultures. A lot of black vultures.
And looking back on it, you know, I can’t explain why I started to feel anxious, but I did….
and so, next thing I know, I had started running….
And because I was so busy feeling anxious
and not really looking where I was going
I promptly fell hard into a hole that I could not have seen
and I twisted my ankle.
I laid there for a good minute or two, feeling mortified, embarrassed and hurting.
Upon looking up, I see them – three vultures — calmly looking down at me, from their perches atop the streetlight.
They did not move. They did not hiss. And they did not shit on me.
They just looked at me.
(They were just like this – except for looking downward. I didn’t take this picture. ^Phil Thach did.)
Evidently, black vultures like to perch on street lights
…and eat ‘horrible things for tea.’
(I guess that ‘ and eat roadkill when necessary’ doesn’t have the same ring to it, though it has the same amount of syllables.)
Not making fun. Just trying to adapt.
~~~
Mr. L is wondering why I am avoiding again.
Asking why I am struggling to embrace my spirit animal.
Because, sometimes…vultures frighten me.
*sigh*
~~~
Thank You, my Beloved.
For everything
Today and Always
❤
I wish that there was a way to keep someone’s ex-girlfriend from moving to Florida at the end of this month.
She contacted me claiming that
she wanted to apologize for all the drama that she caused in my life and in the life of my kids
but couldn’t I just let bygones be bygones
because she could really use a friend
and she really could use some help
because she’d like to move to Florida to make a fresh start
but she can’t do it without someone helping her
So….please?
And I almost relented – because she wheedled and cajoled and gods know I can relate to how loud your brain weasels get when you can’t get the meds that you need
and I thought that I might
just maybe
want to show a little compassion*
for someone who is obviously struggling
just in case
she really was trying to make an effort to be sane
(and gods don’t I know about that too)
BUT….
Then I came to my senses
And I suddenly felt the overwhelming need to say:
Nope.
I can’t.
It’s too much.
(And Loki as my witness, It. Was. Too. Much. SRSLY.)
(So much for Tonglen, eh?)
Anyway.
So.
Now.
If only someone else would come to their senses and realize that what she is asking for in terms of ‘help’
seems
obsessive
disturbing
and altogether
an unhealthy amount
of
Too Much.
Boundaries?
Oh look…there they are! Am I the only one that sees them? Am I the only one that has them?
(I hope that he realizes what he is doing before it is too late.)
But mostly…
I wish that there was a way to keep someone’s ex-girlfriend from moving to Florida at the end of this month.
~~~
*
bloodteethandflame 