A life in threes

Tag: sneaky ton of bricks

Funny, that.

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



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?


*looks up*

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.







Joy, and derailment.

From Wikipedia:

A derailment is said to take place when a vehicle (for example a train) runs off its rails. This does not necessarily mean that it leaves its track. Although many derailments are minor, all result in temporary disruption of the proper operation of the railway system, and they are potentially seriously hazardous to human health and safety. Usually, the derailment of a train can be caused by a collision with another object, the mechanical failure of tracks, such as broken rails, or the mechanical failure of the wheels.


In psychiatry, derailment  is a thought disorder characterized by discourse consisting of a sequence of unrelated or only remotely related ideas. The frame of reference often changes from one sentence to the next.

In a mild manifestation, [this] is characterized by slippage of ideas further and further from the point of a discussion. Some of the synonyms given… are used by some authors to refer just to a loss of goal: discourse that sets off on a particular idea, wanders off and never returns to it.  In some studies on creativity…it describes a similarly loose association of ideas, [but] it is not considered a mental disorder, or the hallmark of one; it is sometimes used as a synonym for lateral thinking.



From Thursday, 18 February 2015:

I was feeling good.  I really was.

I was feeling as if a fog had lifted.  I was feeling that I was being seen and understood.  Things were good.

And then my friend, Phil called, wanting to talk.  Phil said that he had been concerned about me and he simply wanted to ‘check in’ with me.

We ended up getting in an argument over the historical accuracy of the show Vikings.

Now I must wonder if Phil might not be as aware of my spirituality as I had assumed.  While I’d thought that Phil was somewhat aware of the fact that I am a polytheist and a Pagan, it occurs to me that he might not given it much thought beyond that.  He was flippant and downright condescending towards the spiritual beliefs and culture of pre-Christian societies, including the Vikings.

(I cannot seem to think of the concept that I’m trying to convey here – the belief that one’s ancestors weren’t as intelligent or spiritually developed as those living in the modern age.  Edited to add: Urdummheit.  The concept is called Urdummheit.)

He made several comments about the Eddas as ‘being a stupid bunch of poems,’ and that ‘the Havamal is a poem that has no basis in reality’ when I pointed out the cultural relevance of both in giving insight to Viking society.  When I brought up Tacitus- since he was trying to make his point that his belief is that there is no historical record of Vikings being anything beyond what he was saying that they were – that is precisely where our conversation truly degenerated into something that was more contradiction than intellectual discussion.

We were talking about history, and the next thing you know, we were getting defensive with each other about the legitimacy of each other’s opinions.

And it disturbs me when that happens.  Initially, I’d felt the need to defend my point, but then I realized that I’d lost all patience to do so.

I haven’t any patience to educate you on my opinions today.


In an attempt to cheer myself up and focus on things more positive, I thought about my upcoming flight to Atlanta to visit another friend over the weekend of March 6th-8th.

Earlier in the day, my friend had texted me concerning my plans.

I allowed myself to feel good when I read about how excited and pleased she was for the opportunity to see me, as we hadn’t seen each other in several years.

When I realized that I had missed some of her recent responses, due to my being on the phone with Phil, I returned her call.

And she didn’t answer.

I had to remind myself that it was OK.  I had to remind myself that I was just feeling defensive and put off energetically by my phone call with Phil.


He asks me what is wrong.  I can’t even articulate it.


A friend posted something today – and I responded to it, but I probably should not have.

It dealt with something that I could relate to that Loki had said, about joy being one of the only things that impresses Him; the sense of presence, the joy of being in the moment is all He’d ever seek.  How He seeks energy, energetic presence that is pure, unadulterated by shame or guilt or guile.

This reminds me of the words that He has often said to me:

Just feel.  Just be.

 Do you know what you are?

You are light.  You are energy.  You are electricity.  You are fire in a bottle, contained.  

Shine on.

But, as is a human habit, I get hung up in negativity, in conceits, in an inability to see the opportunity, to allow myself the experience of the raw joy of being.

We squander it, I suppose, spending all of our time in making comparisons and in competition with each other rather than feeling compersion, or allowing ourselves connection.

Maybe that is the lesson.

If I am ever going to love him

I should just love him

and stop thinking of how I could do it better

or more profoundly

or whatever

and just love him

Just letting the light of what I am –just letting that love flow out of me.

Just be.  Just love.

It sounds woo-hippy-crazy, I know.

But I don’t care.

It’s difficult – but probably not nearly as difficult as I am making it out to be.

Let go of fear and open to love.



Behold. A sneaky ton of bricks.

How strange that I was looking for something else on Google and this post (from a blog that I’ve never read before) just popped up.
But surprisingly, the message of this post is relevant to something that I had been thinking about quite recently.
It was as if the Universe were to say to me: “Hey. You there. Here’s a sneaky ton of bricks for you. Are you paying attention?”

Angel wings and Unicorns

Your days, your lives of hiding are over. There was a purpose to hiding your light in the past, but it is a new day. You are safe. The world is safe now for what you have to share. If you are in your balance of masculine and feminine, and you are trusting your wisdom and knowledge, which, if you are reading these words, you are trusting more and more, you will attract the right energies, the right people to you and your teachings.

No more excuses, that you are not ready, or you have issues, problems, or someone else is keeping you from your spiritual work. Many of you are walking your talk, and even so you have your moments of doubt. As long as we are human there will be doubts.

Your teaching may take the form of classes, writing a book, a website, a blog, art, music…

View original post 1,314 more words

Earnestly occupied, and fascinated

From I09:

If time is a fluid concept, then I should really watch what I say from now on.


Gods, how I love language.


And I can so see some of my Gods being all over this sort of business. 😉

This is what I meant to share on my Facebook wall:

From the Elephant Love & Relationships page:

“And I will love some of you with some of me, and then all of you with all of me, if you let me and if I let you, as we get to know. And I hope we each have the honor and pleasure to feel sad, together, and joy, together, and lust, together…and lunch on the lawn at Farmers’ Market, together. I like dumplings with too much hot sauce.”

Join,, get the book when it releases.”


Now I ask you:

Who does this sound like to you?


I dunno…Do you?


It is truly the Subtlesauce that sings!


So here goes….

Now won’t  you sing *that* fscking song with me?

Alll of mee loves all of yooouuu…





Month for Loki, Day 9: Eiwhaz

I learned something about Eiwhaz yesterday.


Eiwhaz is a rune of letting go.

Long ago, I got the message from Him, that it is my rune.

So, if that is true…then there is nothing more important than that for me to remember – Eiwhaz’s lesson is to allow change, to protect oneself, to defend oneself.

Of course, at the time that I was informed that I must learn this rune, it was a sort of Subtlesauce that I didn’t want to hear, that I didn’t want to know.

But yesterday, I was at a local mystical shop and I found Eiwhaz described as the ‘rune of the World Tree. A rune of letting go, protection, and transformation.’

And suddenly, it finally clicked in my head.  Funny that.

Eiwhaz is a rune of letting go.
Now I understand exactly why it was the first rune that came forward to teach me after He strongly suggested that I should begin studying the runes.

He said that I should study it until I was told to do otherwise, and so, that rune had sat on my altar ever since early 2013, well over a year ago.

It was my understanding that Eiwhaz should be my sole focus, a fixed point.


And, I am nearly ashamed to admit this, but I definitely had days wherein I would inwardly grouse about it: When could I learn another rune?  It’s not fair…I don’t understand….what am I supposed to understand?  Why?

I pouted.

I whined.

And His response was to steeple His fingers, and regard me with a raised eyebrow, followed by an almost grim, implacable facial expression.

Between the two of us, I don’t know who was more frustrated.

So, that spring, I sent money to a well-respected spirit-worker that I’d met the summer before, and I ordered a custom set of runes that were to be made of ash wood.

And I waited.

And waited.


For six fucking months.



I got so tired of waiting for that order, that I gave up in disgust, and ordered a cheap wooden set off of eBay.


They were made of ash all right, but instead of being carved as I’d been led to believe by the seller, the runes were written on the blanks






There are no words for how I felt about that.

Sangry would be a good term, I guess.

But, that August, I was surprised.

I received a package from the spirit worker.

He sent me a rune set of semi-precious stones retailing for $75 -to make up for the fact that I’d gone six months, with no explanation as to why I’d never received the wooden runes that I’d ordered.

He apologized profusely in a nicely worded letter, explaining at length his frustration and disbelief  about how the wood that he had been attempting to use to make the blanks kept splitting and warping, making the blanks unusable for runes.

He informed me that he’d attempted to cut the ash blanks with intent for my set on three separate occasions in the last six months, so he hoped that I’d accept the stone set as adequate compromise, with his apologies.
But when I poured the runes out of the bag to examine them –  I was immediately disconcerted to see that the Eiwhaz rune – carved into a tumbled stone of bright yellow jasper –  was broken in half.

(I never asked for a replacement simply because it was customer service recovery.)


But I studied Eiwhaz, anyway.

At least, I thought that I was.

I created a daily prayer for Eiwhaz, asking for – and trying to manifest – connection, protection, and transformation.

To be honest, even though I had convinced myself that I understood Eiwhaz on a few basic levels, looking back on my stubbornness, I realize now that I hardly knew what I was asking for.

(And, not surprisingly, He seemed to think that I should be working harder to figure that shit out.   And rightfully so, I suppose.)

Then, in February 2014, I had the blind ignorance to ask Him what rune I should be using to represent myself  in the bind rune that I was creating for us.

He drew the rune from the box, and pronounced it with a flourish, and a mysterious smirk.



And of course, I gasped, and proceeded to whine and roll my eyes about the fact that, of course it is Eiwhaz…why is it always Eiwhaz?

I don’t understand WHY….!!

What’s wrong with Eiwhaz?  He seemed mildly annoyed, eyebrows raised.

But His tone made it obvious to me that the subject was immutable.  Not open to debate.

He then gave me the Holy Bitch Face, and sighed: Don’t ask questions that you don’t want answered – as He drew the rune, Kenaz – for Himself – and suggested that I find a way to incorporate them together.


In March, I embroidered our bindrune on the altar cloth for His altar.
In June 2014, I inked our bindrune on my body.


Two weeks later, as He traced his fingers on the ink, He asked where the flames were.

There should be flames, He said.

Blood, teeth…and flames, my dear.


But it was not until yesterday that I had ever seen it come up that Eiwhaz was a rune of Letting Go.

Funny that.


It all comes back to Eiwhaz.
That’s my problem…that’s my work…of course, Eiwhaz would be, should be my sole focus.

Because, you see, I have so much trouble letting go.

So, it’s no wonder, really, that… it’s Eiwhaz.

It would have to be.

What other rune could there be?

Of course, Eiwhaz is MY rune.


So all I’ve got to say to Loki today is…

I’m sorry that it has taken me so long to figure it out, Simple Dog that I am…




Point taken, Sir. 

Month for Loki, Day 6: Five words.

Y’know, this would have been a better post for yesterday — since yesterday was the 5th and all – but, ah well, I saw this article posted again today.


As if to remind me.


So, here we are.


And yes, I do believe that the writer of this article is correct.

I’d seen this life-changing statement that answered the endless plea that I had made to the Universe regarding What I Should Do several months ago – yes, I had seen the article before, you know – but I wasn’t ready to see any of my relationships in this statement of just 5 words:

Only stay where you’re valued.

Yes.  That’s it.   Simple yet powerful, if you think about it.

There were no complex quizzes, no lists of questions that I should be asking myself when I thought about ‘Should I stay or should I go?’ or any of the other fence-sitting navel-gazing sort of circular musing that I am famous for engaging in at 4 AM while lying awake with insomnia.

This article asks one to consider just one very vital aspect of any relationship – especially personal relationships – and that is to think about the concept of value.

Not  ‘Are you needed?

Not ‘Are you happy?

Not ‘Are you paid attention to?’

or even

Am I loved?’

Or any of the other variations on the theme of  that last one that a worried brain who questions the status of their relationship can come to at 4 AM.


Because, if you follow along the premise as presented in the article, if you are valued in a relationship, and you value those who are in a relationship with you*, then all those other questions answer themselves.

(*Psst: hey, even if the relationship is with yourself, *this statement still works*.  Kinda sneaky ton of bricks, isn’t it?)


Go read it.


And with that, on the sixth day, I say,

Hail, Loki.

Thank You for the reminder, my Sweetest Friend ❤



Month for Loki, Day 3: Pandoramancy

Today is a simple post.

It is about a few particular songs that have haunted me this past year  — mostly through random television and radio commercials, and various ironic instances of radio pandoramancy.

The first instance featured Kelly Clarkson’s Breakaway:

My husband and I were attending a three-day weekend fetish event that was held at a pretty swank hotel, and I awakened early one morning to the chorus of this song playing loudly — as the theme to a travel commercial.

All I could think was that the chorus of the song somehow jibed with the concept of ‘breaking away’ from the mundane world, since the chorus of —

I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to fly
I’ll do what it takes til’ I touch the sky
And I’ll make a wish
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway —

was set against a backdrop various highlights sponsored by the local tourist board  – from pristine shores edged by serene blue ocean, to majestic blue-white mountains rising from lush carpets of evergreen trees, to the sophisticated glow and bustle of the theatre and shopping district of the capital city , all peopled by smiling faces of travelers enjoying themselves in the lovely state of ____, but I just noticed the tune of a song that I’d never heard before.

And the words of that chorus rang in my head:

make a wish 

                Take a chance 

                                    Make a change




and I looked blearily at the clock.


I fished the remote out from beneath the pillow upon which my husband was sleeping soundly, and after several irritably clumsy attempts at jabbing random buttons in the dim light, I was finally able to mute the volume.

My husband never even stirred.

Then, I rolled over, and tried desperately to go back to sleep.

But sleep would not come.

I had that fucking song as an earworm for the rest of that event.

And I saw/heard that commercial at least six times in the next two days, though it was always when I was alone, and always when I was resolutely trying not to think about it being a specific nudge toward the inevitable.

Make a change

And break away….

(I ended up JFGI once I reached home, and was able to dislodge the earworm somewhat, but it shall forever remain a definitively Lokean earworm from that day forward, for the very reason for the awful realizations that I came to during that weekend…and what fresh hell of a twist came into my life not even two weeks later.)


Cut to a few months later, there was Sara Bareilles’ ‘Brave’….

This song was used as a theme  in a Microsoft Windows commercial…or maybe it was even for a cellphone that featured some sort of Microsoft technology.

I seem to remember arguing with V about our increasingly lack of connection, and our seeming inability to communicate as of late…and yet here was this fucking commercial suddenly blaring in the background, advertising some new aspect of communication technology.

Either way, the first time that I noticed the lyrics:

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

I was actually in half-hearing the commercial, and the irony of that moment so unsettled me that I stopped me in mid-sentence.

My husband didn’t even notice.

I’d wager that he thought that my sudden silence had meant that he’d won the argument.

And, like the previous song, I hadn’t actually come across the opportunity to hear the whole song, until I was sitting in a Wendy’s having lunch one day, almost a month later.  ( I had to JFGI’d the above video, because I’d caught the tail-end of the song, because it ended just as I was sitting down to eat.  Only then, did I realize, with increasing dismay, what a spectacularly Lokean sneaky ton of bricks message that song was in its entirety.)

And would it surprise you that the song that immediately followed Brave was Jesse McCartney’s Beautiful Soul?


(Such an irrepressible flirt He is.)



Hail Loki, Lord of Pandoramancy!




Music chain: More of that brick to the head…


Y’know how I was saying that I’ve been having not just one of those days but one of those lives?

It’s not at all a bad thing, and there’s a lot of personal shit that I’ve been (kinda sorta maybe) forcing myself to slog through.   Going to a therapist lately has also dredged up some issues, so I’ve been feeling pretty raw, as well.

Sometimes I’m not fit for human interaction, but I’m working on it.


So I keep hearing this song on iHeart radio.

It’s Pandoramancy at its finest.

It’s a big hit everywhere, I suppose, but I take it that  DC101 has really been playing the hell out of it, so, as you might guess, V has been hearing this song a lot, too.

So I shouldn’t have been surprised (or even incredulous, like I was,) when he said to me the other day how awful it must feel to always be afraid, and bizarrely enough, he referred me to this song.

As if I had never heard of it.

Funny that.

He queued it up for me to listen to, watching my reaction as it began to play.

I took a few deep breaths.  I think that he may have been trying to relate to me, or trying to convince me that he understood my feelings.

I don’t know.

Old habits die hard.

It was difficult for me not to be tempted to give into the rage that I was feeling at that very moment.

“It must be awful.  Living like that.  Always being afraid,” he said to me.

(My. God.  Really?)

But!   Then the chorus filled in, for me:

You’re too mean, I don’t like you, fuck you anyway
You make me wanna scream at the top of my lungs
It hurts but I won’t fight you
You suck anyway
You make me wanna die, right when I



Ah, you suck anyway, indeed.

But I didn’t say it.

I didn’t have to.


It was a sort of odd moment, though.

We stood looking at each other, and I thought to myself, I don’t have to say anything.

But inwardly, I smiled a little.


Keep on dreaming, don’t stop breathing, fight those demons…


You know.  That, too.