Pandoramancy: Wednesday
Because life has just been one thing after another…but I’m doing all right.
bloodteethandflame
A life in threes
Category: personal
February 16, 2018
Four.
Ich liebe euch beide <3
February 9, 2018
The Forgotten Offering.
It was well after midnight and I was hungry.
While I don’t know what it was that I wanted, I went to the refrigerator anyway.
When I opened the drawer beneath the produce drawer, I caught a whiff of the musky scent of….old blood.
That’s all I could think of – blood – meaty, dark, metallic.
Rummaging through the contents of the drawer I found the source of the smell beneath the poly bag of oranges, a few applesauce snack cups, and a half-eaten Hershey’s chocolate bar.
That scent was coming from a bag containing a cold loose lump of something…meat?
I peered into the bag to see a double Ziploc bag, with a date scrawled in black Sharpie marker.
Two hearts.
Chicken hearts, to be exact, wrapped in beige butcher’s paper.
I held the bag in my hands, looking at the date in disbelief.
Two weeks ago, possibly three – had it been that long ago?
While the expiration date hadn’t passed, I realized I had forgotten.
Those hearts were meant to be an offering to Them.
I thought back to the day that I had written out the ritual that was to include them as an offering….but judging by the scent of them, I doubted that they would be acceptable offering now.
I stood at the counter, feeling the slow pang of remorse joining the insistent rumble of my stomach.
Empty. You must be empty…
I felt empty.
Half-heartedly, I peeled an orange, meticulously removing the pith as I considered the packet of hearts laying on the counter.
The orange was ripe and sweet, a delicious leftover from Yule.
As I stood at the counter, eating the orange, I thought about my father.
I thought about how, when I was a child, he’d told me that at one time, to be able to eat an orange at Yuletide was an especial treat – it was a gift and a luxury in itself to be able to enjoy an orange in the winter-time.
‘Oranges were expensive in December. Even from Florida,’ he’d said.
To eat an orange in December was a big deal.
I smile inwardly at the fact that I live in Florida nowadays…where, as one might imagine, oranges are plentiful and pretty much available year-round.
However, it occurs to me how often certain things can be taken for granted, especially when they are always available.
But the fact that oranges are always available doesn’t make them any less sweet.
Then, with the taste of oranges still on my tongue, my mind wandered back towards Them, and thoughts on gifts and offerings to Them.
I looked at the packet of chicken hearts, recalling the special trip I’d made to get them, and the particular ritual I’d written to offer them.
To give what is special and what’s best is all well and good, yes…
…and yet, I’d put off too long in the offering them, hadn’t I?
What good are they now that I waited too long?
What was I waiting for?
I don’t know.
The chicken hearts were for a special occasion ritual for late December…that, unfortunately, I hadn’t followed through on actually doing.
And indeed, what good is a ritual that one doesn’t do?
What good are intentions without follow through?
It occurred to me that I could have given Them a ritual in December and offered Them something else.
Anything else given with mindful intent would have served in the place of…not doing and not offering anything at all.
Heck, I could have offered Them oranges in December.
I reflected upon what I have offered and what I have taken for granted the past year, every year, any year.
I learn. I forget.
I noticed the sharp aroma of orange peel lingered on my fingers, as I dropped the handful of peels and the hearts into the garbage disposal.
I shall do better.
I resolve to be more mindful of myself and the gifts given to me
And I resolve to become more mindful of Them and in my offerings to Them.
January 28, 2018
Cycles
“I think everyone feels like they personally own, somehow, all the many possibilities inherent in their lives. But I think that only lonely people, or frightened people, really celebrate that fact or enshrine it as the most important fact of all.
I co-own all that I have experienced thus far, and I’ll co-own everything that happens from this point, with someone or many someones.”
I’ve heard it said that everything in life happens in cycles. Sometimes I am comforted by that truth, and other times, I am horrified and despairing of it.
While I don’t know if I would define what’s happening to me as the result of some sort of cycle, I do know that I have been thinking a lot about the facts of my spiritual experiences, and how much they have affected my life and my identity.
And the simplest way I can identify this cycle is to accept that
I learn.
I forget.
January 15, 2018
A mysterious Goddess?
Last night I dreamt of making statues of a olive skinned goddess who wore purple and green and blue clothing.
Her headdress was blue – with Her dark hair peeking out from beneath Her headdress – and I recall purple and green ‘stripes’ or mottled batik designs on her clothing.
In the dream, I was supposed to bring her an offering of some sort.
I remember she seemed friendly with dark eyes and a calm smile.
She was patient.
She was associated with dogs and roads and the nighttime sky, especially stars.
****
When I woke up and Googled ‘Goddess associated with the night, roads and dogs’ — I came up with Hecate.
Hmm.
January 11, 2018
Food for thought: a re-blog, and my spirit animals
Asbjorn Torval’s latest post on spirit animals brings up some good points regarding spirit animals, personal bias and what he terms ‘power play’ when considering why there are so many folks who choose wolves and bears as their spirit animals, and yet no one seems to choose cockroaches or rats.
Why indeed, and this post has given me much food for thought regarding my own experiences in that if I were to choose a spirit animal, I would likely choose the fox, the horse, or the raven
– and yet, if I were to be honest –
The reality seems to be that my spirit animals are
Vultures
(L-R: Turkey vulture; Black vulture)
and
Possums!
(L-R: angry possum; possum ‘playing dead’)
You see, ever since I began working with Loki – and then later (and at present) Odin – my life has become overrun with vultures and possums!
Did I expect the relentless presence of vultures and possums in my life?
Well, I cannot say that I did, and yet – much like the Gods Themselves – I find that my life is full of signs of their presence at every turn.
So what have all of these interactions with vultures and possums taught me?
As many long-time followers of this blog may recall that I have written of my mundane (and spiritual) experiences with vultures, I don’t think I have ever written about my interactions with possums.
I grew up in a rather rural town in Massachusetts. My father had quite a sizeable garden on the 1/2 acre property, and as you might imagine, I came across possums – both living and dead – quite often.
As a matter of fact, a dead possum was likely my first childhood experience with death – when, at the age of five or six years old – I found the very much dead body of a possum under an outdoor picnic table in the backyard. I remember my father explaining to me how sometimes possums would ‘play dead’ – just like I’d seen in cartoons – but that this one was really dead 😦
As well, my siblings and I would often come across live mama possums -with tiny babies – living in our root cellar, or trying to survive the winter by sneaking under the bulkhead stairs and into our basement. (I remember my older siblings and I learning to build a (humane) catch and release trap (courtesy of a Mark Trail book) for catching all the possums and other animals that snuck in, and how aggressively we competed with each other for the exciting and very honorable privilege of being the one who help our father carry the [occupied] trap into the woods to safely release whatever animal it had caught.)
But then, once I grew up and left home, I spent many years living in suburban areas and in bigger cities like Boston, Orlando, and Newark…and I didn’t see another possum for almost 25 years.
Fast forward to 2010, when my husband and I bought a house in a large Central Florida suburb…and I am telling you, I have never seen so many possums in all of my life.
In the month of July 2013 alone, I came across eight dead possums in my backyard; I swear that the vultures were bringing them – perhaps even dropping them – into my backyard, which is surrounded by a 6 foot privacy fence. Two of them were huge- larger than each of my three full grown house-cats – and even my 75 lb Labrador retriever was afraid to go near them. (They were very dead and very heavy – and the body of one of those particularly big ones would not fit on the scoop/blade of my largest shovel.)
And nowadays, I’ve seen a few (thankfully live) possums while walking my dogs at night, either trotting down the middle of my street, or perched on my next-door neighbor’s fence or in the tree overlooking their swimming pool.
My dogs go berserk and stand out there barking at them every time one of the possums show up- but I don’t think they even blink anymore 
~~~
Most of those ‘What’s your Spirit Animal?’ websites (like this one) often portray Possum as a sort of trickster and problem solver:
- Possum comes up with alternative plans for difficult situations that don’t require fighting/violence. They have an effective strategy – either by putting on an impressive display of ferocity or by playing ‘dead’ – and both strategies are indicative of one who is a master of projecting an impressive image of what they want others to see.
- Possums are highly social with curious, inquisitive minds. They know when to run, when to hide, and when to move forward.
- Possums are short lived creatures associated with youth and vulnerability. As a spirit animal, Possum assists those who are either young in spirit – or those who need to reconnect with their own vulnerability (or their inner child).
- Possums are nocturnal creatures who are comfortable in the dark (in burrows underground) or in trees. Thus, Possum has strong element ties with the Earth and with trees. They have mastered navigating darkness and Possum serves as an excellent guide for those who seek to develop their navigation of darkness to uncover elusive truths, especially spiritual truths.
- When Possum shows up – ask yourself if you are taking the right path toward your goals or if you have wandered off track. If the latter, Possum might be saying: ‘Be still and play dead’ and take some time to reflect and assess your circumstances. But likewise, Possum symbolizes to expect the unexpected and always be on the lookout for deception and lies. You are being called to challenge the status quo and outsmart the people who may wish to trick or deceive you.
- Possum can indicate the need to be prepared for change – opportunity knocks! – but Possum’s message is one of caution: Not all is as it would seem. Some options will leave you exposed and vulnerable, while other options may divert you from your goals. Possums are creatures who look for the path of least resistance.
- Ultimately, Possum is a survivor and the possum is a reminder that you will survive whatever threatens to overtake you, including your fears, doubts, or emotional trauma. Stay guarded, listen, and bide your time.
~~~
So, considering best laid plans and all that…
Every time I see a vulture, I take it as a reminder that I need
- to rely on the tools given to me
- trust in the process
- look for opportunities to transform
- accept that what seems like an end is not the end of the world
And, oddly enough, when I see possums, I take it as a sign that I need to:
- Be resourceful
- Meditate on my options
- Learn to navigate the darkness and don’t be afraid of it
- Learn to accept that appearances can deceive
- Be cheerful
That being said, I think Vulture and Possum are my unexpected spirit animals
…and I imagine that they are here to stay.
December 31, 2017
QOTD
I am not a fan of New Year’s Eve. I’ve never been a fan of New Year’s Eve.
So, I was delighted to see such an apt quote on my social media feed today..being the last day of December, the last day of 2017.
Like Sam Shepard, I detest endings….but perhaps it is simply that my perception is faulty.
May 2018 be a worthy beginning for all of us ❤
November 10, 2017
3 AM
3am on YouTube:
As it is with most people, I thought this song was about a romantic relationship.
But when this acoustic version of ‘3am’ came across my suggested YouTube feed today, I actually assumed it was going to be ‘3am (Breathe)’ by Ana Nalick.
Instead, I was surprised to see Rob Thomas at the piano, informing his audience that it was actually meant to be a song about his mother. And he continued on about how when he was 12 years old, his mother was dying of cancer.
Upon hearing that, I suddenly burst into tears.
Not that my mother is dying of cancer, mind you, but I am estranged from her (for reasons which many of my longtime readers may be aware –but I don’t feel like repeating the long and sordid story of our toxic relationship right now….)
Though suffice to say, I sometimes find myself uselessly mourning for the relationship we did not have.
Related to this, I have been dreaming of my father – who did die of cancer – 10 years ago as of last month.
I have been dreaming of him a lot lately…and in every dream, he has come to me asking for me to make amends with my mother.
And of course, sometimes I cry about that too. As much as I would like to oblige my father, I am a stubborn bastard just as much as my mother is. As well, while I know that what is wrong between us could likely have been fixed long ago if one of us could relent, I am tired of being the only one who relents …over and over.
You see, my mother is one of those people who can never admit to the wrongness of her behavior, and so it is unfortunate that she has continued to insist that she has ‘never done anything wrong.’
Thus I haven’t any contact with her since 2009.
And so here I am.
October 11, 2017
Stubborn.
Though my intent is to write every day, sometimes I struggle to write about certain topics.
And this topic – and its array of sub-topics – is one of them.
How important is ritual? How important are offerings?
How – or why – would anyone do any of this? How important is it to do any of this?
And then, this article came across my feed this morning, and I immediately thought to share it.
Why?
Because this part especially, hit me hard:
“Have you ever heard about people who accomplish amazing things, and been jealous? I know I have. There are many ways to be successful. I’m not the prettiest, not the smartest, and definitely not the most talented or luckiest. But the one thing I have always been is as stubborn as the day is long – not in some petty way (mostly), but in the kind of way that makes me get up when life knocks me down.
I’m not the fair-haired hero. I’ve never been the chosen one. I’m that other guy. My power isn’t born of charm or good looks. I was born to wear a t-shirt that says, “it’s not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog.”(1)
We live in a cynical age where our fair-haired heroes have revealed themselves as paper cutouts, our leaders have sold themselves to the highest bidder, and the world gets less friendly every day. We wake up and go through the motions and wonder if there’s a damn thing we can do about it.
And you know what? There is.”
Read more at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/agora/2017/10/the-other-side-of-the-hedge-four-hundred-days/#1Vu07d2lKj39HT1A.99
Because, much like Christopher Drysdale, I too, am as stubborn as the day is long.
And yes, I have been jealous of the success of others.
And yes, I have realized that I am not special nor am I particularly disciplined all of the time.
I have wished that my week could be stripped of Tuesday nights and Wednesday mornings, because sometimes, what I am doing is not easy nor is it particularly rewarding…
But then it is.
And when it is rewarding…when I look back at the trajectory of my Tuesday nights and Wednesday mornings
That is when I realize that that is the essence of why I do what I do, and why it is important that I keep doing.
You want the carrot…you gotta be stubborn.
You gotta chase the stick.
Happy Wednesday.
bloodteethandflame 