Br'er Rabbit.

I'm fairly positive he must have sired the small herd of black rabbits that live on a trail I frequent. They live in the brambles that's right next to a crossroad... that's right next to a graveyard.

 

It's much more likely that someone dumped their pet rabbit out on the trail and it began breeding with the local hare population. Still, their location (crossroads) and out of the ordinary coloring is quite amusing. Especially when they're frolicking in the graveyard at dusk.

Under glass.

I was on a beach, but underground. I was right where the waves ended their life cycle and I could watch, from underneath the wave, its gentle foam reaching up and spreading over the sand... but the sand wasn't there, but it was there. It was like the beach was made of glass, and I was under it, watching all the goings on under the waves. The sky was deep blue, and I had to stop a moment in my dream and realize just how amazingly beautiful this sight was. How incredibly lucky I was, to see the ocean from this perspective. I could spy on people. Only I could see the beach like this. A man, I only knew from my dreams was there. He was crying, because he wasn't in love with his baby mamma and she didn't see him for what he really was. And somehow I knew I was supposed to restore some form of love back in his life, be it through me, or just helping him.

Patterns. Not just in my dreams, but also in my life. Where the eff do I go from there?

Adverse.

Do you have those gods (or a god) in your life, that you have an adverse feeling towards? I do. I don't know how to describe it. A rebelliousness, that's it. An uncontrollable rebelliousness. He's popped up in my dreams as of late, after I had acknowledged him during a prayer. I respectfully told him he made me feel like a teenager to a parent, I want to flip him the finger... and tell him he'll have none of me. That I'll do whatever the fuck I want, and he can't have a say in anything.

And there he is, sneaking in my dreams... making me say his name, the fucker! And that strange fury crawls up my spine and inside I scream, "fuck you!" He inspires my Aries urge to fight against everything, indulging in madness and to take another sip of my beer. I feel his laughter as I try to shake it off.

And I've seen him slinking around in the peripherals of my dreams. A large black cat, stalking and lurking in the corners, waiting to rip the flesh from my bone.


They've all been so loud. Words in song change and they speak...


She said to me, "the sea is my church."

Bitch Mother.

I have this necklace that I've started wearing since the clasp on my old necklace broke off. It's a silver chain with a small vintage key looped though and nothing more. This key lived on my altar to Hekate for some time. One day, I decided to wear it, as a reminder of Her and to have Her close to my heart. I don't generally wear my jewelry to bed, except for a ring, but I did just a few nights ago... after an emotionally rough evening. After saying my nightly words to Her, lighting Her candles and setting out some incense. I went to bed tearfully with the necklace still around my neck.

It was the first night, in a very long time that I had very symbolic dreams.

I stood in an apple orchard (apples have very much been on the brain these days) and I could see what looked like a large pack of hunting dogs off in the distance. They were running the perimeter of the orchard fence, guarding the boundary. I began to walk into the orchard and in doing so, I seemed to have upset the alpha male. He bellowed and came thundering at me along with a larger darker male dog, who seemed a great deal less harmless than the alpha male. Suddenly, the alpha female (who, in my lucid dreaming brain knew that she was the Mother Bitch, or Bitch Mother) looked me right in the eye and said out loud, "I'm going save you." It was right at that second that the alpha male was breathing down my neck, razor backed and standing on his tiptoes checking me out. I knew he planned to rip me to pieces, but she managed to whine and make all sorts of noise to distract and calm him. When I looked at his body, he wasn't really a hunting dog, but a war dog. His was riddled with scars and he was an old man. The other dog was younger, darker and aloof. The interaction between these three and I is still puzzling. But I think I have a general idea of what was going on and possibly pertaining to my human relationships. Funny that the older one had the war scars and the younger one didn't... Being the younger one in my relationship is actually a veteran of war.

Moving further into the orchard, the apples were strange. They had spines on them, like a pineapple would, but they were still apples. Thorned apples.

The dream morphed and I was elsewhere. I walked by a woman who asked me if I knew tarot, and ask me to be a fellow reader and rootworker for her shop. I declined her.

Funny enough, I walked out onto Cat Yronwodes house, or, her shop. I didn't see her, but I knew this was where she worked. There were honeybees about. They seemed to want to attack me, and I felt like they might, but didn't. They herded me into a wall of trees and brambles. Only one stung me, and she left a large long barb in my right arm.


Ever since I donned that necklace and key, I've been dream walking regularly. My body sleeps, but my spirit walks. I know I'm sleeping, but I know I'm awake - all through the night. So, I suppose this is my cue card to really work this form of travel.

On the cusp on night,

Twilight clouds speak to me.

Farewell and hello.

It's been a long time coming to this decision. I'm shooting from the hip here, so, bear with me while I blather.

But, I'm giving up the veganism. It first started with honey, ages ago. So, by all rights I'm not a strict vegan. Honey to me is such a grey area. Personally, I think it's stupid to not support small local bee keepers, especially if you eat local produce, and especially if you're vegan. They're pollinators! But, more than that, I wanted to give honey as an offering to my gods and spirits. I wanted to be able to make mead, and offer that to Them. Burn beeswax candles for Them, because it's a special magical substance.

I became vegan for ethical reasons. And... I could probably write a huge ass essay on horridness of factory farming, etc. We all know it's bad, I'm not here to discuss that. I know there are ethical and humane ways to consume animal products. Buying local, free range, buying from farms with humane practices. I've done a lot of research into my local ethical farms, and I feel much more comfortable with my decision, knowing I am supporting people who give a shit.

Intense egg cravings hit me about five months ago, and more recently, salmon fat. Not just the flesh, but the fat. About the same time these cravings began to hit me, my nails have become brittle, they peel and generally look like shit. I've never had this issue until now, almost three years into veganism. Now, I don't have girly hands. I keep my nails short, it's practical for me. They actually became painful, because they bend back and the quick under my nail gets ripped and exposed. I've taken all manner of supplements, changed my eating (while remaining vegan) to combat the issue, nothing has improved.

Every meal the past few months, has become a painful pain in the ass. I don't eat wheat based proteins, because they sit like a brick in my stomach for a long time. I simply don't digest it well. Tofu and tempeh, aren't as bad, but again, the digestion just isn't always comfortable for me. Textured soy proteins... it just, it doesn't feel natural. I feel like my food has disconnected me. It's man made food, so processed, so refined. 

Sometimes, when you're deep in physical exercise you have a sort of mantra that will come to you. Salmon fat, salmon fat, salmon fat, salmon fat... All I could think of, was the small raw belly trimmings I used to get off the fresh salmon while working at a Japanese restaurant, back in the day. My chef would trim it off and place it in a bowl for whoever wanted a piece. I always got my piece.

That. That's all I've been thinking about on my rides these past few months. Fucking salmon fat. I am of the belief, that when your body craves something, it is lacking something it needs. My body has been screaming for it.

I finally got an appointment with a doctor and I heard it: "You should probably get some animal based protein." It made sense. Even though I had been playing around with the idea, it was a relief to have someone say that to me.

I write this as a vegan, now. Tomorrow, I break the long fast with local, free range eggs. I will first offer a whole egg to Hekate, gods, which I've been wanting to do for Her forever. And I will quietly eat them in front of Her altar, in thanks. And with the new perspective on the understanding that it does indeed, take life, to feed life.

Window security.

To HMS Hecate.

Oceanic Queen.
Tied you had me.
And thrown I was.
Into your roaring.
Swallowing. Depths.
I knew you came.
Blade sharp.
Keen. Waiting.
Undone, to be.
I knew.
I felt it there.
I died.
I woke. Remade.

*

She said to me, right as I was about to leave, "Oh child... you don't know. You don't know."

A series of dog barks snapped me out of my trance and the owl stared me in the eye.

Brought to you by: Elysian Night Owl Pumpkin Ale and Crispin Lansdowne.

PDX Pagan Pride and thoughts on disconnect.

A few days ago I briefly attended the Pagan Pride festival down by the river. I had planned on getting in on the workshop that Lupa from Therioshamanism was doing, on Bioregional Totemism, but I arrived a bit too late due to a bus kerfuffle. So, I ended up walking around the vendors a bit. It was neat to see Acorn Guild Press there!

I stumbled upon some nice evil eye beads. I only had three bucks on me, so that's what I ended up spending it on. I hope to put them to good use soon. I've had a couple of projects stewing in my brain.

I was alone and didn't know a soul there, so, I made my way back down by the river. It seemed better than crowds of people. I had no idea there was a beach area on the Willamette in that part of Portland. I sat for a bit in the sun, it was somewhat relaxing, there were quite a few people about and a particularly rowdy bunch of teens. It was nice to check out, but I ended up leaving sooner than I thought I would.

But, to get to this disconnect...

I was riding the train before I hopped the bus to the Fest gathering, thing. And, a honeybee managed to find its way into the area I was sitting, which was filled with about 20 other people. Everyone literally freaked the fuck out. They kept swatting as she flew around confused and they moved, like a scared herd of bovines. I told them it was a honeybee, and if left alone and not swatted at, she would remain quite docile (to which a few people shot me 'WTF is wrong with you' looks). She finally calmed down and settled on the window pane of the train. Before I could even open my mouth a man ripped his hat off and beat her off the window. She fell on the ground and he threw in a few more swats just to make sure she was good and dead. Fellow passengers thanked him for the removal of this supposed horrid pest. I shot daggers into his back. He spent the remainder of the ride, boasting... boasting that he killed a bee. How small does your dick have to be dude? A bee.

I sat quietly, a little heart broken and unable to comprehend his actions. Bees are quite sacred to me. They frequent my home, and they always strike such wonder in my heart when I see them. Little pollinators, providing us with fruits and vegetables, nuts and their own golden honey, fragrant wax, pollen, propolis... Sacred, magic things, in my eyes. How could you not have the utmost respect for these little creatures? If you eat any amount of fruit, vegetable, nut, seed, you have them to thank. Did any of these people on the train with me, think about it like that? I don't think so. The ferocity with which that man killed that bee was shocking to me. She was harmless. Nature is a pest to them, invasive. This crawling, buzzing thing that invades their precious little plastic bubbles. It makes them uncomfortable. A life I cannot imagine.

When you feel,

Fear creeping up your spine and tingling. And you want nothing more than to take flight from the looming presence you feel pressing in from behind you, but you wait it out... you feel it out.

You must be doing something right.

Dusting,

I've been living.

It's been what... Almost a year? Almost.

Let's see, what happened in that time. I'll try my best here, to sum it up.

December-January, saw me get fat. Well, not horribly fat, but chubby enough I was disgusted with myself. It was a winter of pies and whatever the hell else I wanted to jam into my face. I think I may have been depressed. I invested in a light box. The SADs take a beating to me. It creates this black hole vacuum in me... and I cannot escape its pull. I wanted nothing more than carbohydrates and sleep. Practice and spiritually speaking, I was doing my monthly duties, then. It wasn't particularly loud for me then. But with this blog, I don't know... I began to feel, like I was trying to validate my spiritual existence with writing here. I began to compare myself to others (ie. other pagan bloggers and witches), and I began to wonder why I wasn't at the same places others were at. I began to beat myself up mentally for not being like them. Not feeling worthy. Wondering if I did it all for selfish reasons. So, I walked away from the blogging. I really had to take a step back and away from the overload of information and others experiences and focus on my own.

February-March, saw shit turn upsidefuckingdown. My relationship with my partner, opened up. More like, I discovered and came out to him that I was polyamorous. But, you know, this isn't the place to explain all of that, nor do I feel the need to explain the intricacies of my relationship dynamics. But I fell in love with another man, while remaining and being in a committed long term relationship with another. I currently hold that in balance. Somehow, I don't fucking know, I was blessed with the ability to manage it all with grace. Every day is a testament to how very thankful I am, that all of it worked out so beautifully. To say the least, some very serious growing up happened in a very short period of time. My practice took a back burner while I handled the massive changes that were taking place. My lard ass also started exercising. I made a serious commitment to becoming strong again, healthier.

April-May, I don't really remember what the fuck was going on. I was exercising hard. Tending to my human relationships, which, were a bit tender and sensitive at the time. They required a lot of work. A lot. Between that, physically exhausting myself on a daily basis and running a business, there was little left in my brain at the end of the day.

June-July-August, I was sun starved. This was the summer, the first summer that I realized how much passion and adoration I had for the sun. For so many years I protected myself from him. I never let him touch me, I recoiled from his rays for fear of loosing my lovely pallor. I spent every fucking second I could spare to stand under him and absorb that radiant heat. To see the yellow orange of my blood behind my eyelids as I tilt my head in his direction, to feel the burn on my skin, the flush in my cheek and the prickle of sweat beading on my lower back. His vitality pulsing and pushing through every bit of me. I felt like an alien so much of the time, when I was often awestruck, basking in the perfect heat of an object 149.6 million kilometers away from our Earth. I love him. Although, given my Ariesness, this should be no surprise. I lost weight, my limbs tightened and I became golden bronzed from riding miles and miles on my bike out into the hills. My hair turned into lavender and I scented myself with summer: Orange blossom, sandalwood, bourbon vanilla, jasmine sambac and orris. I still have it, bottled, liquid sun. I harnessed a new confidence. Somehow, all that self-consciousness and social anxiety melted away. This summer left me different.

Now, wildfire and dry trees rattling for rain. On my bike rides, you can see the accumulation of a month or two of no rain: A dusty rose haze hovers over the horizon and the sky takes on a barely there blue. And if you work up a sweat, while moving at grueling 14 mph along country roads, you come home all crusted in grit, dust and salt and your eyes sting something fierce. But, you can feel death creeping in through the open bedroom window at about 4am, when the temperature drops drastically. Fall is come, you can smell her, hear her even, in the trees. The shadows are just cool enough that I seek the embrace of the sun, I'm soaking up all that I can now, before I make the descent.

I am not being called back per se, because I never left. I just know, it's time to get back to serious work, again,