bloodteethandflame

I try not to be melodramatic, but I think that it is easy for me to be so.

Perhaps it is my temperment.

I received this letter in the mail — from Letters in the Mail — and it was five pages long.

I was excited to read it, but when I opened it, I realized that the pages were out of order.

I read it in the order that the pages had been folded, all the while, trying to decipher which page led to which other page, until I had some idea of how it was supposed to be.

When I finished reading, I briefly considered reading it again, but then I felt lazy, thinking that the one time through had been good enough for me.

~~~

The letter was written by a writer who has books published (though I’d never heard of any of them).  The letter was about metaphors, especially Jungian metaphors.  While reading it, it seemed to me to be a jumble of thoughts really — because the pages of the letter were out of order, I’m certain — but even so, that letter got me to thinking.

That letter struck me as being a good metaphor for my life right now.

Yes, my life does seem like a long, rambling letter with pages out of order, and only now I am figuring out in what order the pages are supposed to be.

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?  I’m finally figuring shit out, right?

Well, I suppose so.

But, the melodramatic part: this should tell you a little bit about how my brain works, and about my old habits of perception.

I paid money for a divination recently.

I’d been meaning to get a divination for quite some time now, but I was always afraid to, for fear of the answers that I’d get.

But the answers that I did get were quite lovely, actually, and helpful.  But I wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t at least one part that got me to over-thinking, and showed me for the melodramatic, worried sort of person that I really am.

The reading, in part, pointed out that some big changes were coming this spring, but not to worry, they are the changes that I had been seeking.  (Which was nice.)  The winter of my life is over, as it were, and what I wanted for me life is about to…manifest.  There’s going to be a change in seasons — a spring is coming, if you will.

My first thought, however, when I read that, was full of *anxiety*

(I sense your eyeroll, here.   It’s OK.  I’ll wait.)

Here’s a truth about me: I am unlikely to think in terms of what I might gain when I hear that what I want is about to manifest, I think about what I might be forced to give up (or, possibly, lose) in the transaction*

Yep, that’s me, focused more on the negative.  This is a bad habit – my fear of loss** — that has blocking me for YEARS.

So, with that in mind, I swear to gods, what I really should get tattooed on my forehead is:

Let Go of Fear

It has become a most annoying prevalent mantra for me.

It has literally become the BadWolf of my life.

It is what has been repeating in many ways, over and over, trying to drill it into my soul.

Everything has been converging to that, and whether or not, I’m actively looking for it, it’s there.

Be open.

Let go of what doesn’t help you.

Let go of what hinders you.

Let go of what blocks you.

But there’s also that Fear, that insidious whisper:  What are you willing to lose?

That’s a good question.

(It’s hard work for me to think of the other side of the question, though:  What are you willing to gain? — an the attendant thoughts of worth and efficiency and whatnot.  Those thoughts are usually 30 or 40 spaces down the list, in my thought processes.)

This is me admitting it.

Now excuse me while I go try not to forget what I wrote here and keep my promise.

~~~

*(It is not difficult for me to think about situations of choices in that way.  Every choice that one makes has a price.  The loss is always hard, and the gain is always vague. My father used to call it something else, but I think of it as a misanthrope economy.)

** Loss of what, you ask?  Loss of control.  Loss of security.  Loss of sanity.  Especially, loss of sanity.

After writing the entry about what I did get out of my weekend (mostly), there were a few things that I didn’t get out of my weekend, as well as a few things that I realized quite late in the weekend (Sunday night/Monday morning) that I had been downright dodging/avoiding.

For one thing, V and I never did have much of the Big Conversation that I’d been planning on having with him, due to two things that I hadn’t counted upon:

1) Even though V had told his employer’s project managers that he was not available to work, conference, or take calls from Thursday, February 15th, to Monday, February 18th, clients called on him anyway, sucking up eight hours of his time on Saturday, and four hours on Sunday. It seemed that nothing could be done about it for several reasons, as everyone on the client end seemed to think that he’d honestly meant that his availability would be open for those weekend days only, rather than every and any other weekend this month. So, despite shaking my fist at the Universe a few times, I came to the realization that, maybe, I am not ready to discuss these matters, and/or he might not be ready to hear this sort of discussion as of yet. Because every time that I tried to begin talking about the subject, his phone would ring, and any time he tried to set aside his work-brain thoughts to listen to me, his phone would ring with yet another work-related distraction. (At one point, after having told him about my Loki-lookalike friend from the elevator, he suggested that I might as well find my other boots and go enjoy myself a bootblacking, because he was scheduled for a call. Again.)

2) The other thing that kept coming to the forefront was V’s obvious and pressing need to socialize. Several times, the same situation kept arising wherein he would become so distracted by the presence of others — whether they be old friends, new acquaintances, or some individual smoker standing outside looking for a light for their cigarette — that I quickly started to wonder if I was ever going to be able to get his completely undivided attention.

Well, it seems to me that the Universe said NO to that this weekend. Gods, did it ever. And oddly enough, I had an interesting dream on Monday morning that involved this very thing, causing me to consider the very excuses that I have been making in order to keep from meaningfully engaging with an Other who seeks to engage with me.

So…touche, I guess.

~~~

And the lesser, but still worth-mentioning thing that I intended to do but didn’t was to get over myself and introduce myself to Del Tashlin. I’ve been reading both of his blogs – and leaving comments here and there — for somewhat over a year or so now, so I suppose that it might be appropriate to introduce myself, lest I seem like a stalker, no…?

It seems like such a little thing doesn’t it? But yes…it’s true.

And several opportunities arose wherein I could have introduced myself, and yet, I did not. I kept promising myself, next time, next time…and yet I.Did.Not.

I was even in the elevator with him and yet I did not say a word.

What the hell, right?

So, I tell myself one word: FUSION.

Let’s hope that I keep my promise then…I will introduce myself to Del Tashlin at Fusion 2013.

There. I said it. For all of you to read. And now I have to make it happen.

~~~

OK, OK, that’s enough complaining.

I also wanted to point out that I won/bought something at the NCSF silent auction that was totally not for me.

I still can’t figure out why I was drawn to it so — and even though I bought/won two other items (both were things that V was wishing for me to have) — but I most certainly drawn to have this beautifully decorated metal purse/clutch/accessory thing. It is decorated with polished stones: carnelian, yellow jasper, green/pink jasper, quartz, etc.

It was so not me. I think that V was shocked that I wanted it.

But, for some reason, I had to have it. It was crazy.

Maybe it was for Freyja…or something.

When I unpack it, I’m going to put it on Her altar.

I had a good weekend.

As it is with me, not everything that I planned to do actually happened, but a lot of what I needed to happen actually did. 

There is a lot for me to process.

It was heartening — and important — to see V in an environment wherein we could really focus on each other.  We did get to have some of that time.

I could have used more time to really focus on V, of course, but sometimes, the Universe has other plans.  That’s where the ‘let go or be dragged’ comes in.

Some of it was really mundane, but necessary, concerning something that I’ve been struggling with for a while on how to receive service from others gracefully and without guilt…and I received some of that (twice!) in the bootblacking chair.

  In this way, it was nice to make a few new connections, and as much as that can be difficult for me, I forced myself to make that happen, much to my own amazement.  And the Universe rewarded me for that.

Classes: I had other commitments, so I hadn’t really expected to have much time for classes, but I did get a few in: One in particular, Playing with Past Trauma, was lovely.   The instructor gave me much food for thought — and even though the class was in line with concepts that were already familiar to me — it is always helpful to consider another person’s angle on this often controversial topic.  I was also glad to see how well the instructor handled the disagreement/discussion on personal responsibility/accountability.  Always a plus!

The second class that I felt lucky to squeeze in was on Sunday, titled, Dark Goddesses and the Path of Submission, taught by Anya Kless.  Again, I probably wouldn’t have been able to attend, had V not had an unexpected work commitment that bled into a few hours, and I was left at loose ends for a time.  But again, luckily, I can say with certainty that it was definitely an opportunity that I did not expect.  Again, this topic left me with much food for thought and gave me some information which led to several interesting connections concerning my own personal praxis.  (Though there was a certain aspect to the class that made me wonder if I should have grounded and centered before arriving, as I left with my head feeling as if it had been split open, to some degree.  Thank heavens for the lunch break that followed.)   And, concerning the realm of my social anxiety, it was good that I was able to hold myself together enough to have been able to introduce myself to her without too much trouble.

As for other learning experiences, I did find myself facing certain things about the past that I hadn’t really intended upon facing, and most of that concerned discussion of J, and what had happened with us.  I tried to be fair, but I’m certain that I came across a little more emotional that I had previously intended, but I am grateful that I handled much of what I’d needed to release without bursting into flames.

All in all, it was a good weekend.  I saw a great drag show (the Kinsey Sicks), had some long-awaited deliciously carthartic play with a dear friend, tasted some great booze (Jamison is my new ‘boyfriend’), and ran into a delightfully attractive transman who was a dead-ringer for Loki in the hotel elevator…who ended up being a very accomplished bootblack.  I was truly blessed to have received lovely service in hir chair (even if it was another situation wherein I found it difficult to completely ‘let go’ — I am grateful to have allowed myself an experience that I won’t be kicking myself for avoiding later. )

(Hail Loki, teacher of the painful and graceful lessons.)

Have you ever heard of a found poem?

This morning when I was cleaning the kitchen, I found my son’s word list. It is the 11th Dolch sight word list (for 3rd graders) given to him this year. I don’t know where his teachers draw them from, but this week’s list:

List 11 |draw |together
Wash | clean | please
Show | grow | thank
Hot | best | wish
Because | upon | many
Far | these | shall
Live | sing | laugh
Love |

when combined with his list of problem words/sentence phrases (pencilled from last week on a separate sheet of paper):

With me
Before
You will / you will
And you / For me
I am your
From a / people
and (in clauses)
Love

make for a pretty interesting ‘found poem’:

You draw together with me
Wash clean please before
You will show. You will grow. And you thank for me
I am your Hot best wish
Because upon many
From a Far these people shall
Live and sing and laugh
And Love

~~~
Pretty neat.

It’s become an every day occurrence that I am awakened between 3:00 and 6:00 AM.

I’ve seen others ascribe some mysterious meaning to this, but I’m not certain that I can any longer.

Sometimes, it seems that it has always been this way, and that is the reason that I often found myself being the employee that was often tasked with either closing the store (midnight to 2 AM), or opening the store (6-8AM). Both of these situations almost guaranteed that I’d be either going to bed by 4 AM, or having to be awakened by 4 AM or so.

Other times, I would almost want to blame it on my children when they were babies. Each of them always had the best feeding at 4 AM or so, and so 4 AM became my favorite, quiet ‘bonding’ time of my day.

I think about my childhood, and its night terrors, studying in college, hanging out with ‘night owls,’ adapting to feeding schedules, or simply working first shifts, and third shifts, and it feels like I’m just trying to adapt to a very real situation.

I am going to be awake — for whatever reason– between 3:00 and 6:00 AM most days.

I will admit that, over the years, I found myself getting very dependent on sleeping pills to attempt to sleep through the hours between 3:00 and 6:00 AM.

But I’m not going to fight it any more.

I should just accept it.

I do have to say that there is something to be said for watching the sun rise.

Sannion makes his point much more eloquently and succinctly than I ever could. I seek to embody this every day, and especially every time I seek to make an offering to the Gods. They deserve our best, and I strive to give just that, each and every time.

There are two ways of spreading light: To be the candle or to be the mirror that reflects it. – Edith Wharton

Service which is rendered without joy helps neither the servant nor the served. But all other pleasures and possessions pale into nothingness before service which is rendered in a spirit of joy. –Mohandas K. Gandhi

I’ve been thinking a lot — and writing a lot — about how service is a major apect of my spirituality. 

I’ve been reluctant to share, because…well, because there is so much in my head that it becomes difficult to condense it into something resembling coherence, lately.

What I can tell you is that I woke up this morning with this particular phrase in my mind:

“Your role is not to be, but to make the space for others to be.”

There’s more, but that seems to be another handy, albeit raw, condensation of what I had been struggling to convey.  And I want to say, that role – of making space for others to be — is just as important as the role of being.

So now that the month is halfway over, I think that I can safely point out that there’s been a few changes from this time last year :

-Even though on this date last year, my husband was unemployed, I am happy to say that he has has held positions with three separate tech companies since then.   As a matter of fact, there’s the further change that his latest job is with a company based out of Washington, DC…and it’s not virtual office as the others were, so my husband is maintaining both a home office and an office in DC.

-Second change is that my oldest son doesn’t live at home any longer.  He splits his time between work and school, and he has been living in his own place since May.  I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with the extra space, formerly referred to as his bedroom.

-Third change, which is rather recent, is that my husband and I broke it off with our long-term girlfriend two weeks ago. 

Yeah, it still hurts, but we’re getting through as best we can. 

And in a way, there seemed to be foreshadowing to that:  Four weeks ago, around the same time that I was collecting supplies for a necklace that I was making for the Yule gift exchange, I commissioned with another craftsperson to make a custom necklace for said girlfriend, to be completed by January 4th.

Turns out the craftsperson — who was also a friend of mine — had a sudden family emergency on Dec 29th, which made it so she could not even begin to create the necklace, let alone finish it, by January 4th.  She was so apologetic, and very worried because of it; her email to me asked outright if she’d “ruined my holiday’ by ‘inconveniencing’ me this way. 

After what happened on January 4th, I don’t know if my friend would have been a little relieved that she didn’t need to make anything for anyone, after all.

Anyway.

Here’s to experiencing more positive changes in the New Year.

So.

Yesterday, someone had mentioned Lussekatter buns in one of the groups on FB.

Having never heard the term before, I Googled as to what a Lussekatter bun was, and found that they are saffron-flavored sweet buns that are made in celebration of St. Lucia’s Day on December 13th.  The buns are often shaped like double S’s/figure 8s — which are evocative of cats/cat eyes, I suppose.  (One quick web translator defines lussekatter as ‘Lucia’s cats,’ for example)

Looking over the recipe, I was glad to realize that the recipe is rather straightforward, and I already had everything I would need on hand, except for saffron.

So, this morning, I went out to buy saffron.

And I discovered that saffron can be hard to find around this area of the country.   But I eventually was able to find some ‘Spanish saffron threads’, and I was on my way.

The bread dough for these buns is very buttery and sweet, and so, this bread smells wonderful while it is baking.

(Actually, if I was going to caution anyone about making these, I would point out that one whole package of saffron threads (little under 1/2 ounce) is exactly the amount needed…and as the reviewer on the above recipe points out, try to get saffron that is the highest quality that you can afford, if you really want the saffron flavor to come through in this recipe.  I don’t know what Europeans use, but the Spanish saffron that I found and used wasn’t as flavorful as I’d hoped.)

Here’s a picture of how mine came out:

OK…maybe not.

If the pic ever does show up, you might notice that the buns are a little flatter than they should be.

It’s that damned Florida humidity is what it is.

But they taste good.