tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32648969592218041502024-02-07T20:45:28.421-05:00Living Like a GoddessAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-20195962941725597162010-02-03T20:48:00.003-05:002010-03-25T16:25:17.780-04:00Poem for BrigidYep, I know it's a day late. And my chosen piece isn't even a full poem. But it's the line that adorns my altar and the one that keeps me going at times.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">~<br /></span></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="stanza"><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Though a country be sundered, hills and rivers endure;</span></p><div style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;"> </div><p style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;">And spring comes green again to trees and grasses</span></p><div style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;"> </div><p style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Where petals have been shed like tears</span></p><div style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;"> </div><p style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;">And lonely birds have sung their grief.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">~</span><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p> </div> <p style="text-align: center;">--Tu Fu, from "A Spring View" (c. 750<span style="font-size:78%;">AD</span>), trans. Witter Bynner</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">-N<br /></p> </blockquote>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-14015705976806641532010-01-31T11:56:00.004-05:002010-01-31T12:02:05.762-05:00Imbolc plannings and early buds<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNnVFVZ0T1Brl7M71ouYGgxmF3PGjk_sZX3s4P1rGmmGI1meAQ3LSOXVSmNT12vKUBMqtbQdMFs66dz6KdMr2D0WThEviugW1mwIfASdCW8muYimN16Anf1Q-85zzpgBuNkDrbaEtEGQ/s1600-h/cellphonepic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 427px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNnVFVZ0T1Brl7M71ouYGgxmF3PGjk_sZX3s4P1rGmmGI1meAQ3LSOXVSmNT12vKUBMqtbQdMFs66dz6KdMr2D0WThEviugW1mwIfASdCW8muYimN16Anf1Q-85zzpgBuNkDrbaEtEGQ/s400/cellphonepic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432946642091996434" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />It's a beautiful sunny day today, but still cold enough that the heavy blanket of snow (6-8 inches, although it looks like less here) that fell Friday night and Saturday morning is still fully intact. Apologies for the cellphone pic, but here you can see those gorgeous blue shadows on the snow, as well as the narcissus (just about to explode into bloom) on the left, big feathery yarrow on the right, and the little tiny pot to the far right containing some broadleaf plantain rescued from downtown Durham.<br /><br />Two more days till Imbolc/Candlemas/Lady Day/Brigid's Day/whatever you like to call it! It's going to be my second witchy birthday so I'm trying to plan something a little bigger than just lighting candles and incense and reading a little poetry, as my rituals mostly are these days. Still don't have a circle or such-like to celebrate with, but I'm already planning a family meal (a custard, braided bread, carrots in calendula-butter (poor man's saffron), and some sort of protein, as I still have to think about nutrition) in honor of Brigid, even if it's only I and the Baird blood in Amam's veins that realise it.<br /><br />I'm also planning on participating in the <span style="font-weight: bold;">5th Annual Cyberspace Poetry Slam!</span> Heard about it from <a href="http://gaiantarot.typepad.com/artists_journal/">Joanna Colbert</a> of the Gaian Tarot, who's also got a picture up of her gorgeously decorated Imbolc altar, so I highly recommend you check it out. Basically, the Slam is about all and any bloggers who want to do so putting up a piece of poetry in honor of Brigid, Imbolc, Spring, or the like (can be yours or just a bit you like, as I will do) anytime during February 2nd. If you choose to do this, I suggest you leave a comment on Joanna's post about the subject linking to your post - she wants to do a network sort of thing.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-39103641380210765062010-01-30T16:29:00.004-05:002010-01-30T16:35:31.180-05:00Winter day's dreamsThis made it into my other blog first, but I though it deserved to be put here as well. I'm not changing any phrasings or anything, for fear that I lose some of the correct details. Here it goes:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">After lunch I was reading and fell asleep. Among other, less vivid things, I dreamed that I met with Boss F and told her what I really thought: that after a year and a half of pulling my hair out, losing sleep and weight (unintentionally, that is) and jeopardizing relationships over the stress from learning how to do my job well, I both knew how to run the place better than anyone, including she and her husband, and was being unfairly passed over for what I deserved. And since all of this was the case, I told her, I wouldn't be seeing her again.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">After that, I dreamed that we were on a road trip, delivering furniture or something like that - Papa was driving and the rest of us were in the back of the truck, holding things down from sliding. Then something happened out in the mountains - the trailer came unhitched, perhaps - and we had to stop. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">We went into an old abandoned farmhouse - plastered white walls, caked with soil and in need of a good scrub and repaint; wooden floors, lovingly sanded and finished and covered with woven rugs. The sun was setting and we carried candles around the house, exploring the three floors of the layout. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It was built into the side of a hill, with steep stairwells up and down taking up most of the space in the first room we entered. Upstairs, we could see a bathroom with a huge old claw-footed tub, and bedrooms clustered beyond. Downstairs was a cellar on level with the ground on the other side of the house, still stocked with shallow boxes filled with sand to store potatoes and apples, and heavy wooden doors leading out into a small dusty yard bounded by kitchen gardens, with fields and forests beyond. On the main level, as on the other two, the two wings of the house - great room, complete with a fireplace, ready with wood stacked beside it; and kitchen, with a large wood-burning stove, once-bright patterns painted on the walls and dry herbs and garlic still dangling within easy reach - reached forward to the left and right. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It's hard to explain how the footprint of the house was laid out, but try this: hold your arms out, at right angles to each other, and at 45 degrees to the center line of your body, as though you are turning your back to a cold wind and protecting someone in front of you. This "crooked" design kept the house protected the house from cold northern winds and created a small, sheltered microclimate at the back of the house, toward the south. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I know this is a long tangential post for what is still supposed to be just a food and exercise log, but it's very important that I write these details down and not forget them. This is what I need to do, and this is where I need to go. It's where I will be. </span><br /><br />I'm trying as hard as I can to cement these pictures and ideas in my head, not to lose them as I do with so many (sleeping and waking) dreams. Oh Mama, help me out with this.<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-19442928068052467752010-01-28T16:16:00.007-05:002010-01-31T15:13:11.496-05:00Musings...<div style="text-align: center;">What do you want to do with your life?</div><div><br /></div><div>That's the real question, isn't it? The big one that everyone struggles with, silently or aloud. Some of us answer it. You can see it in their smile, the glint in their eyes, the way they move their hands when describing what they do and who they are. They've beaten the System - that terrifying, shapeless entity whose entire purpose is to hold down the common man and force him into one of 6 billion pigeonholes. </div><div><br /></div><div>The rest of us can either endlessly envy them, imagining ourselves stuck where we are by the nonexistent virtues of a heartless system where work is done for the purpose of being finished...</div><div><br /></div><div>...or we can join them.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">What do you want <i>from</i> life?</div><div><br /></div><div>This question seems just as big and just as unanswerable, but it's a little easier to come up with general concepts, as we all really want the same thing. Health. Happiness. Safety. Security.</div><div><br /></div><div>Love.</div><div><br /></div><div>The problem, then, becomes how to obtain and nurture these qualities in our own lives. Very, very few people ever completely succeed. There's always something to trade or give up, or else the need to play along with the System just enough to avoid being noticed as an anomaly and stamped out.</div><div><br /></div><div>But most of us never even get close to having to worry about that.</div><div><br /></div><div>In my dreams, both sleeping and waking, I am happy. I know what lies beneath the walls of my home because I built them up from nothing but raw materials and waiting space. I sink my hands into cold, barren earth and call on my Mother to help me pull forth from it lush, green, healing-filled life. I take this life and give it freely to all those around me who are in desperate need of it, and take in return only what they ask to give me out of gratitude and love. Every morning, I wake in the arms of my best-beloved, who has chosen me as their One as I have chosen them. I am not threatened by any Man, Beast or System - not because they never threaten me, but because I have the confidence, knowledge and power to turn away all threats to me and mine. I am secure in my body and mind; in my home and land and my ability to keep them; in the love shared between me and my dear ones; in the dreams my Mother gives me and in the life that flows through me from everything and back into everything.</div><div><br /></div><div>And now the third question arises. Which reality is the true one? To misquote a bit of ancient wisdom, am I a sad girl occasionally dreaming that she is happy, or a happy girl dreaming that she is sad?</div><div><br /></div><div>The answer depends on me.</div><div><br /></div><div>-N</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-56830730447892362802010-01-10T10:31:00.006-05:002010-01-10T18:25:38.498-05:00And here we go again... (LONG!)So here it is, my "New Year's" post, albeit 10 days after the actual event. I'm not sure if I want to ponder what that says about how well I'm doing on leaving my bad habits in last year. But then again, I'm actually writing one now, instead of just doing nothing and pretending to ignore the matter, as is my wont with the uncomfortable truths in my life.<br /><br />I've been thinking a lot lately about how I always seem to have the very best of plans and intentions - I excel at daydreaming and list-making like none other! - but only a very small amount of those plans, if any, actually come to fruition. The last time I was notably, measurably successful at any kind of venture was back in high school, when I had (quite literally) no friends and the only way to escape the black caverns of my own mind was to pour myself completely into my schoolwork. I've since changed immensely as a person - I have friends, I smile, I talk, I'm not afraid of my own thoughts any more - but I still don't feel that I have the ability to balance success in work, school and other pursuits with being happy.<br /><br />That is not to say that I'm not still trying, however. And I feel like right now (oh gods, let's hope it lasts) I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> trying harder than I have for a long time to make everything work together. T came down to visit for about a week at the beginning of Jan, and he's so driven and focused on what he wants that I can't help but be a little swept along by it. The problem, however, is how to take that feeling and translate it to something I can carry on by myself - how to make this really a habit, not just an effect he has on me.<br /><br />Then again, he might be using me in the same way that I'm using him - as an inspiration to work harder towards a future that we are now thinking of as something that will be <span style="font-style: italic;">ours</span>. He's called me his muse before, and on this most recent visit, he told me that I'm his Reason.<br /><br />I can deal with that.<br /><br />*glows*<br /><br />But anyways, let's get back to the matter at hand. As a guide for my resolutions, I've once again chosen that doyenne of all things inspirational and paganish, <a href="http://diannesylvan.typepad.com/dancing_down_the_moon/">Dianne Sylvan</a>. Her latest <a href="http://diannesylvan.typepad.com/dancing_down_the_moon/2010/01/moving-forward-with-love.html">post </a>(as of this writing) gives a pretty clear way of organizing the year's goals in a way that should make more sense to me than a static list of all things I want accomplished by next Jan. Here goes:<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(96, 154, 159);">1. Dump 2009.<br /><span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">For me, this lies mainly in training myself out of all the bad habits and into new ones. The biggest change I need to make in this area is in seeking outside help - I'm asking my parents to ask me for weekly updates on school, among other things. Honestly, this is rather distasteful to me - I'm 24, I should be able to do things like this on my own! - but recent evidence has shown that I'm still not ready to rely entirely on myself for motivation. I need outside support while I'm working, praise when I succeed and shame when I fail in order to motivate me to better face the next challenge. The hardest part in shifting my mindset from last year to this one is the actual asking for help.<br /><br /></span></span></span></strong><strong><span style="color: rgb(127, 0, 63);">2. Come up with a theme word or phrase for what you want to manifest in 2010.</span></strong><span style="color: rgb(127, 0, 63);"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">This was probably the easiest part in knowing what I want to do, but the hardest in figuring out how to describe it. This year, I want to make the shift to relying on myself - for fiscal matters, for motivation to action of all kinds. I suppose the best way I can think now to say it is that I want to grow up. I'm not terribly satisfied with that, though, so it may change.<br /><br /></span></span><strong><span style="color: rgb(96, 191, 0);">3. </span></strong> <strong><span style="color: rgb(96, 191, 0);">Break it down into a few manageable goals.<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal;">This is eas<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ier.</span> I want to be self-sufficient, self-motivating and successful in the areas of money, health, school and my personal life and pursuits. Breakdown continues below.<br /><br /></span></span></strong><strong><span style="color: rgb(0, 64, 127);">4. Taking those themes and intentions, create a prayer or set of affirmations for 2010.<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal;">Sorry, internet, but this one isn't getting shared. It's between me and my Mama.<br /><br /></span></span></strong><strong><span style="color: rgb(191, 95, 0);">5. Think of your plans for the year as a set of nested circles. Start by listing daily habits you want to stick with for the new year, no matter how small or silly-seeming.<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal;">List time!</span></span></strong><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><ul><li>Save all tip money to be counted and a use decided for it at the end of the month</li><li>Take vitamins! Omega 3-6-9 (3/day), ginko (4/day) and Vitamin C (1000 mg) at least</li><li>Drink 8 c of water, preferably with ACV<br /></li><li>Take almonds to work</li><li>Have at least one good helping of veggies, preferably fresh, in every meal</li><li>10 minutes on inbox every day</li><li>30 minutes (preferably more; whatever can be spared) at altar: writing in BOS, adding to or organizing grimoire, cleaning, decorating, ritual, intentional meditation or just sitting and thinking </li><li>30 min (at least) exercising every day: anything from a brisk walk in street clothes to a full hour of Crossfit and a run afterward. Commute time does not count</li><li>Consume some herbal concoction every day: anything from a tb of dandelion to replace some coffee to a full infusion</li><li>Have the kitchen tidy before I go to bed<br /></li></ul>It's a lot, but each one isn't really that hard to do; the hardest ones will be the time-related ones, if this year's work schedule is anything like last year's. But I think I can hack it.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(160, 255, 64);">6. The second circle would be a weekly plan<br /></span></strong><ul><li>Spend at least an hour (if that much is needed) reading in depth and responding to all emails and other messages</li><li>Drink an infusion in the morning instead of coffee 3 days a week</li><li>3 hours per week of herbwork: study and research or writing and compiling knowledge</li><li>3 hours per week of knitting! That's actually sitting down with yarn and needles, not just browsing patterns</li><li>2 hours per week organising documents and papers from work</li><li>Physically visit or meet up with or have a long (30+ minutes) phone conversation with at least 2 friends per week, not counting T, as that's a given</li><li>Make yoghurt once a week</li><li>Bake something once a week, preferably whole-grain bread (i.e. rarely cookies and the like)</li><li>Finish all school assignments assigned and due in the following week on the Saturday before</li><li>Do laundry once a week</li><li>Clean out my car once a week</li><li>Plan meals and go food shopping once a week<br /></li><li>Write at least one blog post per week</li><li>When weather permits, do at least 4 hours of garden work per week<br /></li></ul><strong><span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 255);">7. The third circle could be monthly<br /></span></strong><ul><li>Write and follow a monthly budget, covering gas, food/necessities, bills/loan payments and vanities/entertainment and putting a certain amount by to save for T's visits, with every extra penny going into savings<br /></li><li>Do a ritual for all the esbats and new moons, even if it's just 15 minutes of lighting candles and reading poetry</li><li>Do a full, top-to-bottom cleaning of my spaces (bedroom, bathroom, car) every month, including sweeping or vacuuming, dusting & polishing and washing bedspreads and curtains</li><li>For every sabbat, redecorate my altar and make a family meal to tie into the event</li><li>Bring accumulated tip money to work and change it to large bills; depending on how well I've stuck to my budget for the month, either deposit all into savings or deposit half and spend the rest</li><li>Twice a month, take time for a visit of considerable length to a library, museum, planetarium or something of that nature<br /></li></ul><strong><span style="color: rgb(0, 64, 127);">8. The fourth, then, would be your yearlong goals and intentions which you could try to synch up with the seasons if you were so moved: Winter for planning, Spring for beginning, Summer for action, Autumn for completion and release, and so on.</span></strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Winter</span><br /><ul><li>Make a storyboard of how I wish the year would go, using photographs out of magazines</li><li>Set up my etsy account to start selling: shop design and descriptions and at least 10 possible items to sell</li><li>Decide on a provider and buy car insurance</li><li>Track my spending, particularly on gas and food, and figure out how much I would need to entirely provide for food on my own</li><li>Run 5 miles<br /></li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Spring</span><br /><ul><li>Start completing projects and putting them in the etsy shop - have 20 in the shop by summer<br /></li><li>Obtain one of those college fridges and start eating only the food that I buy as much as possible (with the exception of intentionally communal family dinners)</li><li>Run 10 miles</li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Summer<br /></span><ul><li>Begin aggressive marketing for the shop: flyers or online ads, selling through local stores</li><li>Begin actively looking for an apartment in town to move into at the beginning of the school year (and possibly a roommate as well)<br /></li><li>Run a half-marathon</li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fall</span><br /><ul><li>Move into an apartment</li><li>Keep up with the shop</li><li>Run 15 miles<br /></li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">General Year-long Goals</span><br /><ul><li>Develop and stick to a budget that accounts for all necessities and some small splurges, but where the main focus is on savings</li><li>Develop and stick to an eating plan that is healthily balanced while being as cheap as possible</li><li>Develop and stick to an exercise plan that moves progressively forward and strives for new goals with each one met</li><li>Write at least 50 in-depth entries in my personal herb book</li><li>Write or compile rituals for every sabbat, esbat and new moon in my grimoire</li><li>Get all As in school<br /></li><li>Keep at least one houseplant growing all year</li></ul>Phew! Thanks for reading all of that, those who did. Now for the hard part. Right now, I'm off to make some tea.<br /><br />-N<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-77057310250664850622009-11-08T09:38:00.004-05:002009-11-08T10:30:00.685-05:00Time for a nice hot cup of...As the days continue to get shorter and colder and darker, it's always nice to have a nice steaming mug of <span style="font-style: italic;">something</span> to curl up with. My profession being what it is (namely, a person who makes fancy hot drinks with ridiculous names), I figured I'd take some time to share some of my personal favorites with the internet.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">London Fog</span><br /><br />A customer who hailed from sunny California, where they don't actually need hot drinks but apparently have them anyways, brought this one to my attention. Her recipe depended on the vanilla-flavored sugar syrup that most coffeeshops have on hand these days, and if you can find one nearby, by all means ask them to make this for you. This is my at-home version.<br /><ul><li>Brew 6-8 oz (depending on the size of your cup: I put in enough water to leave a good inch of space at the top) of strong Earl Grey tea. How strong it is can vary according to your taste, but remember that it will be sweetened, so you may be able to go stronger than you might otherwise. I use two tea bags, or two tablespoons if I'm using loose tea.</li><li>When the tea is brewed, discard the tea bags and add vanilla sugar (sugar in which vanilla beans are buried and kept until the sugar takes on a lovely vanilla scent) or plain sugar (preferably raw) and just a drop or two of vanilla extract to taste.</li><li>I like to finish off with a drizzle of warm milk or cream (warm so it doesn't cool the tea down too much. I just nuke it for a minute or so. Yes, I know, I'm a bad hippie) - this is not essential for the classic drink, but this is what makes it "foggy" for me :)</li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cider-in-a-Pinch</span><br /><br />I really love cider. No, I REALLY love it. So much so that, whenever I make an effort to keep it on hand, it seems to disappear at a rate of about five gallons per day. Ok, not really. But it goes pretty fast. <br />When I'm really craving hot spiced cider and don't have any available and don't feel like making an expedition out to get some, this is what I do.<br /><ul><li>Put some water on to boil - as much as necessary for however many people will be drinking the brew. I've been known to drink a quart in one sitting.</li><li>Get a non-metal container (I use a quart-size Pyrex glass measuring cup. A large glass or ceramic bowl, such as the innards of a crock pot, would also work just fine) that is big enough to hold all the water you're boiling with some room to spare.</li><li>Into this container, put at least 1 tablespoon each of apple cider vinegar and honey for every cup of water, or more to taste - I usually add a little more when I'm pouring the water in, until it takes on a nice golden color.</li><li>Throw in some random spices you have lying around - a stick or two of cinnamon, a few pinches of cloves, a grating of nutmeg; basically, whatever you have on have that would go well in cider. Experiment!</li><li>When the water is boiling or is nearing that point (it doesn't have to be all the way there, just hot enough to melt the honey and mix everything together), pour it into the container and stir until well-combined. Pour into pre-heated mugs and sip carefully. Feel free to adjust the amounts and ratio of honey/ACV to your own taste.</li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nelly's Super-Awesome Magic Cocoa</span><br /><br />Yes, it's going to sound rather weird. Don't judge. Just make it. And believe.<br /><ul><li>Start slowly heating 1 c milk (organic, whole) for every cup that you anticipate will be drunk. I never have leftovers.</li><li>As the milk starts to steam just a little, add in between 2 teaspoons and 1 tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder (the highest quality you can get) per cup of milk by spoonfuls, mixing each in by rolling the handle of a whisk between your palms.</li><li>Once all the cocoa is mixed in thoroughly and the milk is steaming a little more, add your favorite honey (I use raw wildflower honey from a local source) in the same amounts as the cocoa or perhaps a little more, also by spoonfuls, drizzling each in and then mixing using the same whisk technique. It helps if you have two people here.</li><li>When the honey is mixed in, add the following: 1/2 to 1 whole cinnamon stick, broken into pieces, for every 2 cups of milk; 3 or 4 cloves for every cup of milk; 2 to 4 teaspoons of dried dandelion root per cup of milk; a sprinkle or grating of nutmeg for every cup of milk; a few drops of vanilla extract per cup of milk. Once that much is fulfilled, I like to add a little more of each spice, "for the pot." With everything mixed in, cover the pot, turn down the heat and let it all simmer together for 5 to 10 minutes, checking every minute or so to whisk.</li><li>Pour into warmed cups through a strainer, adding all spices caught in the strainer back to the pot. I like to put a little scoop of vanilla ice cream in the bottom of the mug first. Before serving, add just a tiny dash each of salt and chili powder.</li><li>Sip slowly. Revel.</li></ul>Happy sipping!<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-30511176380273406892009-07-07T09:46:00.002-04:002009-07-07T10:16:34.254-04:00SPIRIT 2-fer: Caring and CompassionMy previous post got me thinking about the subject of the next grace on the <a href="http://www.dancingdownthemoon.com/archive/grace.html">list</a>, as well as one several steps down, and how they fit together. As I mentioned before, there may be such a thing as caring too much - when one's thoughts and worries about others begin to overshadow the concerns of oneself to a point where it becomes damaging. This is the opposite extreme to being entirely self-absorbed, and just as harmful to oneself and, I believe, the world at large. <br /><br />Compassion is often grouped together with caring as being indistinguishable, but I propose a considerable difference in my personal definitions of the words. Where caring is the thought alone, maybe with the word to go along with it, compassion is thought, word <span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> deed in one - and therein lies a world of difference. Caring alone, as good as my intentions are and as much as it springs from my love for my friends, leads to nail-biting and hair-tearing and more sleepless nights than I care to admit. I<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span>can speak of my concerns to other friends, but even after pouring my heart out, I always seem to come away with it even fuller and heavier than before.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>Compassion</span>, on the other hand, with its inclusion of action, gives me a real outlet rather than just temporary relief. <br /><br />To put my definition of these terms and two previous ones more succinctly, caring is to compassion as awareness is to activism. The girl who is merely aware and caring reads an article about war or a worrying letter from a friend and cries. The girl who is active and compassionate puts the paper or letter down, gets up, and goes to a peace rally or speaks to the friend. I want to be the second girl.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-8218562416294542682009-07-06T12:46:00.007-04:002009-07-07T10:19:50.412-04:00Signs, signs, everywhere are signs...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9JitGj6c69QTC_PBISzAOAW8uHFNNxjK67IwdOhqgfeUal3L-9dkRtlHr3LQR5Cn_QzGCUlBnoOIqv7VU5H5diG_wtE7jeF7k46Rl7Bb3NWmtNClKyF0zkgb3D7sOlxnFXfyptblDO4/s1600-h/queen-of-hearts.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9JitGj6c69QTC_PBISzAOAW8uHFNNxjK67IwdOhqgfeUal3L-9dkRtlHr3LQR5Cn_QzGCUlBnoOIqv7VU5H5diG_wtE7jeF7k46Rl7Bb3NWmtNClKyF0zkgb3D7sOlxnFXfyptblDO4/s400/queen-of-hearts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355404614947085330" border="0" /></a><br />A week or two ago, I took advantage of the lovely weather to take a walk with a friend and shoot the breeze, just to share what was going on in our lives. Lately I've been quite worried about several of my friends, and I was letting my walking partner know all of my concerns, as they have been in the forefront of my thoughts. I looked down at the sidewalk and saw a playing card at my feet - the Queen of Hearts. A bell rang in the back of my mind that this meant something, but I couldn't remember just what, so I picked up the card and put it in my wallet, planning on deciphering it later. When we were retracing our steps to end the walk, I noticed another card on the ground near where I'd found the first one. Wondering if this might be the second half to whatever message I was supposed to be getting, I picked it up as well, even though it was soaked through...although it had barely been sprinkling. It was another Queen of Hearts.<br /><br />Now I could have overlooked finding the first card alone as an obvious coincidence - it was a neighborhood with plenty of kids, who could have been playing with a deck of cards and forgotten to clean them up. But the second card being exactly the same as the first, as well as both cards being directly in my path, gives me a bit more pause about the whole situation and makes me more inclined to believe that this really is the universe trying to let me know something.<br /><br />The Queen of Hearts corresponds to the Queen of Cups in tarot, and every source I saw during my research mentioned the word "compassion." This card denotes someone who cares a lot about others, which is of course a good thing, unless it's taken too far. There's the possibility of this card showing up in a situation when someone is putting their cares about others above their own cares, sometimes even to a dangerous level. I don't think I'm in any danger of completely forgetting myself for others, but there is the fact that, when my friend and I started talking and she asked me what had been going on in my life, the first thing I thought of was my worries about my friends, NOT what had been happening to me.<br /><br />I know I'm being told something. I think it's something along the lines of "lighten up a little bit!" or "don't worry so much about what you can't change!" or even "remember yourself!" I'd welcome any other views on the matter, especially the bit about the second card being all wet. Totally can't get that part.<br /><br />In other news, I'm making yogurt at least once a week and it is better every time :DAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-49004549356028470282009-05-05T09:48:00.007-04:002009-07-07T09:43:53.486-04:00YOGURT!<div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMXFwuiosemNP6fR8NjSrY8tS6UE3LbHr7QnUm6G25JILuORSP8v6fho1tciDLtpuNIYp_ShZXzCPCgGJDGxhLojhPlZfHJZ5S0VgujjfcCZ2rv4EiP35D9Jhu1F8OmOVJOEkzxfXTlIU/s1600-h/yogurt-gallery-x.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 284px; float: right; height: 284px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355412546807933602" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMXFwuiosemNP6fR8NjSrY8tS6UE3LbHr7QnUm6G25JILuORSP8v6fho1tciDLtpuNIYp_ShZXzCPCgGJDGxhLojhPlZfHJZ5S0VgujjfcCZ2rv4EiP35D9Jhu1F8OmOVJOEkzxfXTlIU/s400/yogurt-gallery-x.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div>Oh my god/ess(s), you guys. I am sitting here in front of the computer, drinking my morning tea and eating my breakfast, part of which happens to be...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">YOGURT THAT I MADE ALL BY MYSELF!!!!!!!</span><br /><br />It bears some resemblance to conventional store-bought yogurt but it's MUCH runnier (like pretty much drinkable) and it's got about a third of the tanginess of normal plain yogurt, but damn is it good. I thought about experimenting with honey and dried fruit and granola and things, but for the first one I just added a couple drops of vanilla extract - just enough to <span style="font-style: italic;">almost</span> taste it, to just get a good waft of vanilla right before I put the spoon in my mouth - and it is HEAVENLY. (summerland-y? whatevs. it's fucking awesome.)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">HOW I DID IT</span>:<br />When I was a young'un my mom used to make her own yogurt, and still has the electric yogurt maker she used to use. It's basically a device for keeping 5 little jars of yogurt at the correct temperature for all the good bacteria to grow for as long as is needed to "set" the yogurt after adding the starter. I've seen recipes where people just pour everything into one large Mason jar and keep it warm by putting it into a cooler with jars of hot water, but I figured if I had the equipment on hand, I might as well use it.<br /><br /><br /></div><ul><br /><br /><li>I started with 4 cups of Organic Valley whole milk (I s aw they'd been given a rating of 4/5 on a recent survey of milks that pertain to be organic and happy; Horizon got 1/5 btw) and heated it slowly to about 185 F slowly, stirring a lot with a whisk so a skin didn't form on top and checking the temp about every 5 minutes till it got close. This is called scalding the milk (heating it quite high without actually boiling it) and is supposed to kill all and any nasty bacteria that might be floating around in it before adding the good bacteria, which is the next step. </li><br /><br /><li>Once it got to 185, I took it off the heat to cool down to 110-115 F (any lower or higher and the bacteria in the starter would not be happy) The " starter" is just a heaping tablespoon (like waaay heaping) of plain lowfat Stonyfield yogurt, but according to my mom (who used Dannon when she made hers) you could probably use pretty much any brand, as long as it's plain.<br /></li><br /><br /><li>Once the starter is COMPLETELY mixed in to the hot milk, I poured it into the jars (which had been pre-heated by filling them with boiling water and letting them sit for a while, then dumping the water out and drying them off before I poured the mixture in), set a timer for 12 hours and went about my daily routine. When the timer went off, I moved the jars from the machine to the fridge to let them chill overnight.</li></ul><div>And, wonder of wonders, everything worked pretty much ok. I'd like to figure out why it's so runny - in one of the recipes I saw, the woman said she liked to let her yogurt "brew" for 14-24 hours instead of just 12, so maybe that would do the trick - but it is absolutely delicious as is (I don't even want to spare the two-or-so tablespoons I need to save for the next batch's starter!), and I think I'm going to go crack another jar open right now!<br /><br />Dairyful blessings,<br /><br />-N</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-45895134431957522262009-04-15T17:04:00.004-04:002009-07-07T09:06:41.187-04:00Herblore: Another look at valerianSo some of you might remember my not-too-fun experience with valerian the <a href="http://livinglikeagoddess.blogspot.com/2008/11/body-valerian-is-not-to-be-trifled-with.html">last time</a> I tried it. Well, I know I said I wouldn't touch the stuff again unless I had really serious insomnia, but time heals all wounds, as they say, and when my sleep schedule got a little out of whack from Easter break, I decided to give it another go, just to help me get to sleep early enough.<br /><br />For the mixture, I used 2 or 3 Ts of chamomile with a good pinch of valerian, steeped it in a cup of boiling water for about 5-10 minutes (or sometimes more if I got distracted), then strained it and added another cup or so of milk as well as honey to taste (lots of honey...valerian is not the most delicious of tastes ever, even at that low a concentration). Then I'd sip the concoction slowly, over at least a half-hour, usually as I lay in bed reading or chatting online or something, with the intent to turn out the lights no more than an hour or an hour and a half after starting to drink the tea. And, when I actually did that, it worked quite well: I fell asleep quickly and slept soundly until morning, then got up and about without too much of the lingering drowsiness that can be a side effect.<br /><br />However, I only actually did this once. All other times I attempted to follow this routine, I found myself caught up in long conversations with T or W in which I was inexplicably drawn to the heavier topics and the "big questions" that linger in my relationships with each of them. I could definitely feel the sleepiness from the valerian setting in, but also this strange drive to poke and prod and find out the answers to questions I've been not asking for a long time. After some time spent focusing on these and ignoring the urge to sleep, the latter wears off and leaves me fairly energized (or at least not noticeably tired, even into the wee hours) for another several hours. It did lead to some conclusions, but there was also a ridiculous amount of stress involved for all parties, and even after thinking about it I'm still not sure if the stress balanced the satisfaction or not. I can't find any information on this particular effect in lists of general side effects for valerian and have no idea where to start looking for info about it on its own. Any keyword ideas?<br /><br />As for other effects, I've definitely noticed that my dreams are more vivid. Fortunately there's been nothing like the terrifying nightmare the first time I tried the stuff, but I can tell that my dreams are less foggy and more plot-driven. Also, on a couple of occasions I've been able to stop myself from waking out of the dream much better than I normally can, as well as waking up briefly to look at the clock and turn off my alarm or to speak to someone, and then immediately falling back asleep and resuming the dream from the saved point, so to speak. I have to admit, that part is pretty cool. As well, my cat has been super-affectionate lately, coming up to sit on my lap when I'm at the computer and sleeping next to or on me every night. Valerian is supposed to be similar to catnip for the fuzzy ones, so maybe she can smell it in my sweat or something.<br /><br />Although I've been drinking this tea for the past week or so every night, I'm going to stop now for at least a week or two - I've read that continued use for more than two weeks can make your body adjust so that the previous dosage loses its effectiveness. That, and as much as I like having things resolved and getting answers to my pressing questions, sometimes it's just not worth the stress.<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-55621240579395031942009-02-01T00:19:00.002-05:002009-02-01T01:34:28.909-05:00RecapWell. It's been quite a while...let's go about this in a somewhat formulaic manner.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">DEC:<br />Cleaned up my room, locked all my altar supplies and decorations in the desk I use for it and went off to Ohio for 3 weeks (which eventually dragged a bit longer than that because of flight cancellations, grr). I spent a week hopping around between families and the rest of the time at T's house, going through a lot of very emotional times. Things that had been secret (or at least had gone unsaid, even though we both had a good idea of what they were) came out in the open. As a result, I'm pretty optimistic about the eventual future, although I still get pretty worried from day to day about certain things, especially how T is holding up in what are pretty troubled times for him. If you want to know more specifics, give me a call or email and I'll tell you.<br /><br />JAN:<br /> Came back to NC to find my room even cleaner than I left it and some certain important papers (bills, transcripts, a hefty uncashed paycheck) missing. It turned out that my mom had "put them away" somewhere, and she still doesn't remember where. I'm inheriting her memory so I can't blame her too much for forgetting, but the fact that my room is getting snooped on a regular basis (another bit of proof is that a book I was reading, "How to Be a Lesbian" (pretty funny, check it out! ;P) disappeared from my room when I was out for the day) has been somewhat grating. I've since "moved house" into my absentee sister's room, which needs a new doorknob, which I intend to buy myself and use the keys. <br /><br />I also started a new exercise program, <a href="http://www.crossfit.com/">Crossfit</a>, which I love love love can't say it enough love! It's very tough, and for the first week or so I could literally barely hobble. I mean, I had to use the handicapped stall in the bathroom because I couldn't rely on just my legs to lower me far enough. Happily, though, I've gotten over the initial stage and am now really seeing a huge difference in my body after less than a month - there's obvious muscle definition in my thighs and arms, and my coworker told me he could see that my stomach was flatter even despite the baggy work shirt. I also have a ton more energy - at the dull times at work, I'll do pushups against the counter or hop in place just to be moving - and I think I'm running faster, too! I'm definitely sticking with this one.<br /><br />School started the day after I got back to Ohio. I'm taking four business/econ classes and one "college student success" class. After the first couple of classes, I was more than a little distraught - these classes are SO much easier than I'm used to, and I was caught between being relieved that I wouldn't have to work so hard and being insulted that quite that little was being required of me. Now, however, I've just decided to go above and beyond the basic requirements - I can still write well and wordily even if the only thing I have to discuss is my reactions to the word "accounting" used in conversation.<br /><br />I've started speaking to W again, and it hasn't been that bad. Everythings slowly getting easier - I can hear "our" songs and see people in AF uniform again without bursting into tears...most of the time. It's an ongoing process.<br /><br />It's super-late and I've got a lot of stuff to do tomorrow (planning my Imbolc thingy tomorrow evening) so I'm gonna call it a night. More tomorrow!<br /><br />-N<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-84981029860001872932009-01-31T16:16:00.004-05:002009-01-31T16:34:41.174-05:00Just a quick muse...no pun intendedI know I need to do a huge recap of the past several months, and I promise that'll come soon. For now, though, it's been on my mind lately that tomorrow (or today, or the day after tomorrow, depending on your tradition) is not only Imbolc but also the first anniversary of my dedication and the start of my journey on this Path.<br /><br />So this is just a little thing that caught my attention when I was doing some research on how to celebrate: Imbolc is sacred to the goddess Brighid, or Bride (that's bree-deh, not bryd, btw), who is, among other things, the patron deity of bards. My middle name is a family name, passed down through the years, with at least one child per generation being given it (right now I share the honor with my grandfather, uncle and little cousin, whom we call Birdie). The name we all share is "Baird," which, any good Scot can tell you, comes directly from those whose title it was, who roamed the country composing and performing poems and songs - that's right, bards.<br /><br />That's all, just a little tidbit I found interesting. It gives me warm fuzzy shiveries inside :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-36869509528590591792008-12-21T11:25:00.005-05:002008-12-21T12:01:40.558-05:00Happy Solstice!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgE18DD7iRjsNJdxjavi3ajlck8VxM7RF2xZTrde1ztD54z0qzV-uxeIYc7QF61jWaHhKZamq6aMMHhF4SbjuMPNhyBgSkxJcHlj-nk1AKGYUS2X6BU57GsfQoB77FjVYcSlhiOoW_GM/s1600-h/solstice+stonehenge.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 563px; height: 421px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgE18DD7iRjsNJdxjavi3ajlck8VxM7RF2xZTrde1ztD54z0qzV-uxeIYc7QF61jWaHhKZamq6aMMHhF4SbjuMPNhyBgSkxJcHlj-nk1AKGYUS2X6BU57GsfQoB77FjVYcSlhiOoW_GM/s400/solstice+stonehenge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282283472210546050" border="0" /></a>Gifts: this beautiful <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zwCYKYru1nw">song</a> from <a href="http://gaiantarot.typepad.com/artists_journal/">JPC</a>, rewritten and performed by her husband <a href="http://www.garageband.com/artist/craigolson">Craig Olson</a>; three <a href="http://gospelpagan.wordpress.com/2006/12/21/winter-solstice-greetings/">poems</a> from Sara at <a href="http://gospelpagan.wordpress.com/">Pagan Godspell</a>; <a href="http://kerrdelune.blogspot.com/">poems, prose and pictures</a> from Catherine Kerr and a wonderful <a href="http://www.oldmermaids.com/2006/12/sister-ruby-rosarita-mermaid.html">story</a> from Kim Antieau of the <a href="http://www.oldmermaids.com/">Church of the Old Mermaids</a>. Enjoy!<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-1328781600968013752008-12-17T23:06:00.006-05:002008-12-21T12:02:39.149-05:00BODY/MIND/BRAIN: Treehugging, Pushing the Limits and Being a Geek<div> </div>Well, tis the season, once again. It's been a bit of a strange one, overall - the first time in years that I'm actually living with my folks, getting to them and my sisters again after years of being the cool absentee sister who swooped in for the holidays and then was gone again. There's been a fair amount of familial strife in there, but for the most part it's been fairly painless. It's also the first time I've observed the winter solstice as a holiday, not just an interesting astronomical event. I've been poking around for some small thing I can do by my currently solitary self, haven't found anything yet but I'm sure I'll be able to figure something out in time.<br /><br />Usually the tradition is that on the evening of my mother's birthday (Nov 30), we all go out as a family and pick out a Christmas tree to take home. This year, however, my dad had helped with a Christmas service as a nursing home on that day and was just "too Christmassed out" to do anything else dealing with the season. So we left it for the time being and went on about normal daily matters until just the other day, when my mom went out by herself and came back with literally the biggest tree we've ever had. To get it into the stand alone took quite a bit of finagling, with my sister and I both lifting it into the thing, then me holding it up while she tightened the base. Yep, that "treehugging" in the post title is quite literal. And this is going to sound either impossibly dorky or hippyish or both, but it's really something of a zen experience - your senses are completely taken up by the tree: the feel of the needles on your arms and face, the heady scent of pine all arond you. It sounds silly, but that was probably the first time I'd felt really in the spirit of the season. It probably speaks to my pagany soul in a way - that of all the many and varied traditions in my family about this time of year, the one that sticks the most is the tree itself.<br /><br />I also made what I consider a pretty damn huge breakthrough this past week. I've been following a running program lately that has me running for a few minutes, walking a bit and then repeating the process for 30 minutes 5 times a week, and on Wednesday evening I decided that I'd had enough with the stopwatch for then and that I'd just run and walk as the mood struck me. After running for a little while it occurred to me to just see how long I could go on running -to test the limits of my endurance, if you will. Now, keep in mind that I had NEVER run over about 5 minutes straight before that I remember, but I'd been keeping up with the program and thought I could maybe manage between 5 and 10 if I paced myself right. Well, that night I ran for 20 minutes straight, without stopping once. This may seem small to some, but to me it was like finishing a marathon. I felt like a goddess.<br /><br />Lastl and briefly: I got a laptop! It's a brand that no one knows about yet, which is why I could get a machine with such great specs for such a great price. Hopefully the novelty of it will be slow to wear off, helping me get back into the habit of posting more often. But for now I'll bid goodnight - or rather, good morning, on this very new Solstice Day!<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-16193521976195199492008-12-16T13:37:00.004-05:002008-12-16T14:32:37.972-05:00MIND/BRAIN/SPIRIT: Knitting, Entrepreneurship and AwarenessI have been knitting like a fiend these past several days. I'm making a sweater (my first!) for my sister out of this absolutely luscious yarn - soft, fine alpaca, in a deep jewel-toned watercolory mix of blues and greens - and have already finished most of it in just a few days. My mother is astounded with how fast I can knit, and truth be told I'm surprising myself a little - I actually knit so much that I broke the skin on my thumb yesterday (but it's since healed over and is getting nicely calloused). It got me thinking, however - the main drawback towards making an attempt to sell my creations, online or in local boutiques, has been the fact that it wouldn't be worth the time it would take - I always assumed that if I charged no more than the price of the yarn plus the cost of making it in minimum-wage hours, it would add up to far too much for anything larger than a hat, pretty much. Lately, however, I seem to have become a faster knitter even than I used to be, and so it just might be worthwhile (as well as an interesting experiment).<br /><br />The experimental part would be tied into the fact that I'm going to start taking classes in business with a concentration in e-commerce in the spring. It might be interesting to see how much natural aptitude I've got at this before I officially learn anything about it, and how much better I can get once I am actually schooled in the subject. The first thing to do, at any rate, is to collect a number of patterns and designs that are mine enough (that is, altered enough from the patterns on which I base my creations) to sell without being a plagiarist. I also need to get everything that's been floating around in my head for years and actually put it down on paper. I think the hardest part will be pricing the stuff - I was looking on <a href="http://www.etsy.com/">etsy.com</a> the other day for pricing information and saw stuff that I could make in a couple days tops (read: a lot closer to the beginner's level than I am) priced for $120, $150, upwards of $200! If we go by a scale based on fineness and complexity of the garment, the sweater I'm making now would be at the upper end of that range, simple based on the gauge (number of stitches per inch, which translates as fineness of the knitted fabric)!<br /><br />So yes, that's my newest project thus far. I've had the bug before and slowly get closer to actually doing something with it every time the cold season rolls around. I'm pledging now to have sold at least 10 large pieces (sweaters, shawls, etc) by winter solstice in 2009 - how that will be accomplished remains to be seen.<br /><br />Awareness is next on the list of graces, and it's a toughie. On the one hand, I think it's absolutely essential - as children of the earth, one of our responsibilities is to know what's going on with our mother and all the rest of our siblings, and to do less would be to deny our connection to every other being on this planet, and to the planet herself. On the other hand, sometimes it can be just too painful. There was a time when I simply stopped reading the newspaper (apart from the crossword) because the glut of bad news - wars and rumors of wars, brother killing brother, and all the rest - was too much for me to handle along with the stresses of my own life. Too many horrible things over which I had absolutely no control; it was a choice between continuing to be aware of what was going on in the world and not crying every morning when I read the news. <br /><br />I am older now, though, and somewhat stronger. I've come to the conclusion that anyone who can take the emotional pain of knowing about tragedy without being able to do anything about it simply must make themselves aware of the goings-on of the world - for the simple fact that the more people ignore something bad or wrong, the more leeway it has to continue. The world turned a blind eye towards Hitler and his rise to power and terror in his own country, and only took notice when he started to seriously threaten the rest of the world. We as a planet cannot afford to make anything close to the same mistake again.<br /><br />So awareness is definitely on my list. Next up is caring, which should be up soonish, as I'm on break now. W00t!<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-67135256447533826932008-12-07T21:42:00.006-05:002008-12-17T11:01:53.022-05:00MIND/SPIRIT: The Lake Isle of Innisfree<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3iMFld5mSlVPgE1207aDz33MC5OmHiVm_PwNm10_bsAW9d8My8o1LapWrEgA2quoL5nWPHybRRYK3eCNDOf2XzUjxr97CRN6sn5L4ULZH59IZz91huDpdf3EEGf-vWNGKqchMUdaT1k/s1600-h/innisfree.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3iMFld5mSlVPgE1207aDz33MC5OmHiVm_PwNm10_bsAW9d8My8o1LapWrEgA2quoL5nWPHybRRYK3eCNDOf2XzUjxr97CRN6sn5L4ULZH59IZz91huDpdf3EEGf-vWNGKqchMUdaT1k/s400/innisfree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277251729677088642" border="0" /></a><br />Well, this was going to be a post about awareness, the next grace on Sylvan's list, as well as some general updates and such. However, I've been somewhat distracted from that - as I was reading through the day's postings, I noticed that the article on pomanders linked to through <a href="http://gaiantarot.typepad.com/artists_journal/">JPC's blog</a> was entitled "Golden Apples of the Sun." Being something of a lit. nerd, I remembered that this was a line from a poem by <a href="http://www.sci.wsu.edu/math/faculty/barnes/yeats.htm#irish">W. B. Yeats</a>, but couldn't remember the rest, so I looked it up - the poem is called "<a href="http://www.poetry-archive.com/y/the_song_of_wandering_aengus.html">The Song of Wandering Aengus</a>" and is a beautiful, complete story in only three stanzas that I won't spoil, so click on the link and read it now.<br /><br />However, as lovely as that poem is, it's not my favorite of Yeats'. My favorite is much more popular and over-anthologized, but even the glare of too much popularity can't obscure the gentle evocativeness of "The Lake Isle of Innisfree," which is as follows:<br /><br /><blockquote>I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,<br />And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:<br />Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,<br />And live alone in the bee-loud glade<br /><br />And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow<br />Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;<br />There midnight's all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow,<br />And evening full of linnet's wings<br /><br />I will arise and go now, for always night and day<br />I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore<br />While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey<br />I hear it in the deep heart's core.</blockquote>Yeats wrote this when he was a young man of about my own age (23, I think) living in London. At the time the Irish were still quite looked down upon by the English, and Yeats, with his Sligo accent (in the West of Ireland - somewhat equivalent in American terms to that of the Deep South or mountain areas) must have been especially marginalized. Also, the island he based his dreams on was not viewed as such a picturesque place by the locals, who gave it the unseemly name of "Rat Island" before he rechristened it, and the last I knew, they were still calling it that, unaware of the dreams of a tiny, peaceful Avalon drawn for the world by one of their countrymen. Whatever his neighbors called it, it could still be the focus of Waldenesque daydreams for a lonely young man living among strangers in the middle of a cold, dark, grey city.<br /><br />I won't go into deep detail about the imagery of the poem or wax on much longer about how it is the perfect escape. I'll only say that this tiny, perfect picture of a peaceful life spent in the midst of nature is, essentially, what I want my life to be. It is what I have longed for through all the long hours of work and study in the past several years, the dream I barely dare to wish for because it doesn't fit in with the plan of what other people want for me. It is nothing like the streamlined, modern daydreams of my father and sisters, full of nice cars and big houses and power in the form of too much money - but it is my dream, and I know that I am not alone in wishing for it - there must be others who, too, "hear it in the deep heart's core."<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-21391380095154284302008-11-20T21:33:00.005-05:002008-12-17T11:02:20.283-05:00SPIRIT: AssertivenessUnlike the previous two graces I considered, I don't feel like the word "assertiveness" has really any negative connotations that go with it. Moreover, it's <span style="font-style: italic;">definitely</span> something I need to try and work on these days. I'm not sure if I consider it a true virtue to live one's life by, but it is at the very least an important character value that I know I need more of.<br /><br />Assertiveness, roughly speaking, is the happy medium between being a doormat and a bully. It is saying what you like, going after what you want and being unafraid to try and influence people toward your aims, but without being rude, overstepping their personal boundaries or forcing them to do what you want - basically, getting what you want and being damn nice about it. 'Nuff said.<br /><br />The area in my life that I think I most need assertiveness is in my relationship with my father. It's not a terribly healthy one - our conversations all seem to consist of him stating and restating what he wants for and from me in increasingly louder tones and me standing there sullenly, answering in single syllables and praying to be anywhere else in the world at that moment. Before I moved back here a few months ago, I'd lived on my own for four years, seen the world (well, parts of it), and become an independent adult woman in my own right. Suddenly being back here, though, staying in the same house, eating at the same table, sleeping in the same room that I spent my miserable teenage years in somehow causes me to revert to that same moody, sullen, troubled, silent, sad little girl I was back then anytime my father and I clash wills. I am struck dumb, unable to say what I think or feel or want in any way that makes sense to either of us. I feel like a stupid child, as I'm sure I must appear in his eyes - a silly little daydreamer who pouts whenever anyone mentions that her dreams might not be worthwhile, and who won't put real work towards anything that might actually lead her somewhere.<br /><br />The thing is, though, I<span style="font-style: italic;"> do </span>have goals and dreams that are worthwhile. The two main ones at the moment are to get myself fairly secure financially and to continue my education, and the overall goal is to strike a happy medium between these two - not to put one (and the rest of my life, pretty much) on indefinite hold while I rush headlong towards the other, as he seems to believe I will do in either case (towards more schooling, if I should do as he wishes, and towards a dead-end life in low-wage jobs if I should go against him).<br /><br />The problem here, of course, is that I can type all this out fairly coherently to a (mostly) anonymous internet audience, but I can't get up the guts to speak the same words, quietly and calmly, like an adult, to my own father.<br /><br />I got an unexpected hint tonight that I probably need to say more of what I'm thinking, and damn the torpedoes. It came when my dad was reading the Bible before we ate dinner (yes, they do that every day), and the passage for the day was about Moses and the burning bush. There's a part where Moses is all "but um I like can't speak good 'n stuff, pick someone who's more...uh...ella...eloquent. Yeah." and then YHWH is like "honey with ME telling you what to say, you gonna be making speeches like they was Grandma's cookies, 5 dozen at a time AND all of them damn good!" Well ok fine they were speaking some strain of ancient Aramaic, but the gist is still there. Anyways, it was just a little bit of a two-by-four - I say often that I've got the exact same problem with words and use that as a crutch and an excuse for not speaking my mind, even though I know that with the right intent and the Big Mama telling me what to say (once I ask her nicely) I could speak words that would shake the planet.<br /><br />It's getting late and I need my sleep, so I'll call it a night. To sum up, this one's got more than a fair chance of being on my final list.<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-45449317557000078662008-11-13T14:23:00.003-05:002008-11-13T15:50:21.925-05:00BODY: Valerian is not to be trifled withMaybe it's the fact that I took the valerian with no <span style="font-style: italic;">real </span>need for it, just a curiosity about what it did and how it did it. Maybe if I really did have problems with sleeping, it would be a godsend. Maybe if I didn't have to wake up at a specific, rather early time and instead could just sleep till my body wanted to wake up, it would just result in a really good night's (and morning's, and early afternoon's) sleep.<br /><br />However, as I have no huge problems with falling or staying asleep and I do have to get up at ridiculous hours for work, I think it would be safe to assume that the valerian kinda kicked my ass. I woke up alright, drove to work and clocked in feeling kind of meh...and it went downhill from there. I got a nagging headache that got steadily worse, and I became the Coffee Zombie, making lattes and mochas seemingly only by muscle memory, barely aware enough to mutter "skim or whole milk with that, sir?" and the occasional "I need drugs in my braaaaaaaaain." After a couple hours of this, my coworkers feared for their lives and sent me home (no but seriously, they're awesome dudes and told me to go home and sleep). <br /><br />When I got home I stumbled up to bed and slept soundly for the next 4ish hours, with some very strange dreams. The only detail I can remember is that at one point I was sitting in the kitchen with my mother, and across the table from us was my grandmother, her mother, who is dead. She was a ghost, having some kind of trouble manifesting, so all I could see of her was her bathrobe (which has passed into my possession and which I wear to bed every night) in the shape that it would be on her body but empty. For some reason it was very dangerous/bad to touch her, and so I was crying into my mother's shoulder and trying to hide, and my mother was telling her not to touch me and to go away, and she didn't understand why. It's still kind of creeping me out.<br /><br />Anyways: bottom line, I think, is <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">do not take valerian unless you actually have a need for it</span></span>. If I do have real trouble with sleeping at some point in the future, I'll give it another try, but until then, I'm not touching it.<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-77404270066033849932008-11-12T22:55:00.001-05:002008-11-12T22:57:48.088-05:00BODY: The quickest update everOh dear gods. Valerian, when brewed on its own for a good amount of time, is VILE. I had a milk chaser and brushed my teeth and tongue with baking soda and I can still taste it a little. All I can say is, this damn well better work - if nothing else, at least it'll help me remember to brush my teeth at night. Glah.<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-65189186426473357272008-11-12T21:56:00.005-05:002008-11-12T22:46:43.117-05:00BODY/SPIRIT: Activism, etc (and more valerian)Well, so much for writing every day. Meh. I have a feeling I should put a virtue along the lines of diligence or orderliness near the top of my eventual list. In the meantime, there's lots of stuff running through my head, so excuse the rambliness/unclear nature of this post.<br /><br />When I first think of activism, I think of marches and protests and yelling and waving signs and possibly getting arrested. This is the image we have been given, for better or for worse, by today's media and government of "activists." I'm not saying that this is a bad thing at all - in fact, we may need more of it than ever these days, depending on how things go in the near future - but if you think about it, there is a much broader spectrum of things that you might be considered an activist for. This could be as "little" as, say, recycling, or choosing to buy from certain businesses and companies because of their environmental and ethical standards, or signing a neighborhood petition. Basically, activism might be defined as going (even slightly) out of your way to demonstrate or make heard your beliefs and ideas.<br /><br />While I'm not sure that any sort of activism that I don't already do pretty much subconsciously even <span style="font-style: italic;">should</span> be a part of my life right now from a perspective solely based on my getting my life back together (more than what I do now could potentially take a lot of time away from work and, in the spring, school), I feel terribly selfish for even thinking this. I believe that the vast majority of us (at least in the US and other rich countries) need activists - people coming out and yelling at us about how horrible the real state of things is - to jolt us out of the complacency that it's so easy to fall into. Whether or not this is included on the final list (still need to decide how long that will be) depends on if other things on the long list turn out to be more important for me now rather than in general. We shall see.<br /><br />So the valerian tea wasn't actually all that bad to taste - it could be the smallish amount I used, the other herbs in the mix or possibly the relatively short brewing time - but neither did I notice a huge effect. I was slightly more restful and calm, and although I of course do not remember how long it took me to fall asleep, I definitely wasn't lying awake for hours like I have before (although I haven't done that much recently anyways - having to be up before sunrise certainly helps with insomnia ;P). I'm brewing another batch, this time with a cup of water to a scant tablespoon of herb and have let it sit for about 45 minutes so far - hope that has some effect other that stinking up the kitchen like yeah whoa.<br /><br />Briefly: when I turned on my Pandora station today, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Hgqsx3F3Hs">this song</a> popped up first thing. I thought it interesting, considering that it is a full moon tonight :) Also, check out <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/27670344#27670344">this video</a> (yoinked from <a href="http://owlsdaughter.blogspot.com/">Beth Owl's Daughter</a>'s newest post) on a few things Bush and his cronies are trying to make happen before they're ridden out of town on a rail (now THAT would be an awesome late birthday present!). This is the kind of thing that makes me want to be a "real," yelling, out-there activist - this kind of thing cannot be allowed to happen. Of course, many things like it already have slipped by under the radar - I'll post the link to the bill/whatever it is that makes the president the sole real power in this country in the event that an unspecified emergenct situation is declared. But enough doom for tonight.<br /><br />A quick prayer/public request to all the gods, goddesses, other beings and friends paying attention: T is in not-so-good straits. Send good thoughts and hugs his way, and help him know that he is going to pull through - and help me be the best friend and biggest comfort I can for him right now.<br /><br />Goodnight, all!<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-51478349560213622032008-11-09T21:56:00.002-05:002008-11-12T22:57:58.896-05:00SPIRIT/BODY: Acceptance (and valerian)When I did my primary research on this topic (that is, googled "acceptance" and looked at what came up), the results mostly seemed to fit one of two topics. The first is a positive look at the word and what it connotes: acceptance is, basically, learning not to sweat the small stuff and the so-called "unchangeable" everyday problems that plague us, as well as learning to love oneself just how one is. There's a basic problem here, at least for me: right now, I do not especially like where I am or what I am. Even though my life is by no means a bad or uncomfortable one, there are aspects about it that I do not like and that I wish to change. If I worked hard to love where I am right now, I would have no reason to continue to work towards the goals of changing my situation and myself. <a href="http://www.selfcreation.com/acceptance/index.htm">One of the sites</a> I found says otherwise, that in fact "[a]<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">cceptance</span> allows change":<br /><blockquote>"Think of acceptance of yourself like being okay with where you live now. You may want a bigger house one day. You may dream about that new home. But there ARE advantages to living in a smaller home if you only took the time to think about it. It is possible to be happy with the home you're in now, while still dreaming and working to make your new home a reality."</blockquote>The inherent problem with this as I see it is that if you truly are completely happy with your life, you will have no desire to change it. If there remains the desire to change it to something "better," then by definition your life is not as good as it could be and thus you yourself are not as happy as you could be. This type of acceptance seems to be either an excuse to stay in the (not quite ideal) circumstances of the present, or else a sort of temporary, false acceptance until the circumstances you really want are achieved.<br /><br />The second topic is nearly the same thing, but with a key difference: the things one learns to accept are neither good nor unchangeable. Here, acceptance is used to mean the mental process that an abused spouse might go through - convincing themselves that "it's not really that bad, this is just life, I just have to learn to live with this."This is part of the mentality that Christianity has used to keep the downtrodden down for centuries, as well as something I've seen in my own friends, and I abhor it to the core. Nothing more need be said there.<br /><br />There might be a third type of acceptance as well - that which helps us realise that a friend who has died is in fact not coming back to us, or that the choices we have made in the past cannot be rethought and changed, that they are what they are and all we can do is live with the world that results from them - that is, the past is in the past and is truly unchangeable. This type of acceptance might be best defined as the opposite of regret, and is as I see it the only definition worth giving more thought to. Acceptance in this form may make it into the final list -we'll see.<br /><br />In other news, I bought a handful of valerian this evening, and some tea made of a teaspoon of that and a pinch each of chamomile and mint is steeping right now. I'm assuming I'll need to have some kind of a chaser - everything I've heard about valerian says it is rather vile, and the whiff I got when measuring it out certainly seems to back that up. I'll post the results of that experiment tomorrow. Goodnight!<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-55164128380410203932008-11-09T11:11:00.005-05:002008-11-09T11:41:54.532-05:00SPIRIT: Overhaul, plus the makings of a traditionI have been rather lax of late with this blog, and the few bits I have written don't quite fit what I want this blog to be all about - that is, detailing the process of changing myself, inside and out, into the woman I want to be. Without a set format for what to write about, it seems, I can't quite find the inspiration or drive to actually sit down and write. Thus, I'm going to take a page from the book of certain other bloggers I admire - namely, the wonderful <a href="http://diannesylvan.typepad.com/dancing_down_the_moon/">Dianne Sylvan</a>, who is right now doing a fascinating little series based on the alphabet, or as she puts it, "an alphabetical exploration of the aspects of my spirituality that are important to me." Of course everything she writes is awesome, but I especially like the idea of limiting one's choice of topics, for a while at least - it both cuts down on the indecision, the "too much to write about" that often plagues me when I take up pen (er, keyboard) and forces me to still be creative but within certain bounds, making it more of a challenge that way.<br /><br />I'm not going to copy her exactly in doing the alphabet thing, but I think the idea of having a certain list of things to write about could definitely help me get back some inspiration. Therefore, I'm going to direct you all to <a href="http://www.dancingdownthemoon.com/archive/grace.html">this</a> page for a moment. It's an article by Sylvan on creating one's own ethical code, choosing those specific virtues or "graces" that are most important to you, and setting them up as a standard to live one's life by. It's a wonderful idea, and very useful to those of us who don't have a default set list or scripture to draw from. <br /><br />At the end of the article, she gives a list of 81 virtues gathered from various traditions with the suggestion to think and meditate on them and decide on a list of the ones that are most important to you to be your own personal code - which, I've decided, is fairly vital in order to have any kind of a direction in your life, something I need badly right now. Thus, for the next 81 days (or so), I will attempt to meditate on one of these virtues every day (or less often, seeing how other things go, but at least 3 or 4 a week), starting with the first of the list, "Acceptance," hopefully this evening. In case I need a break from that (and I probably will), please send me requests for what herbs or natural methods to try next, as I've done with nettles, or anything else you think I should write about.<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-77519260180771998652008-11-08T16:15:00.002-05:002008-11-08T16:28:06.751-05:00Not sure what to make of thisSo on Friday morning I was leaving for work as usual. I hadn't slept wonderfully and had forgotten to brew my tea the night before, so wasn't in a great mood to start with. When I went out to actually leave, I found that my mom had left her van parked behind my little car and I couldn't get out. My dad was awake but still in his nightclothes and didn't want to move it for me, so he just handed me the keys and told me to do it myself. Now let me say that this van is not small, and the biggest thing I'd ever driven before is my dad's Prius - and our driveway is narrow and steep and generally silly. I did not want to drive the van anywhere, let alone try and finagle it on this tiny stupid driveway enough so I could get around it without running over the holly bushes. Let it also be said that while my dad refused to actually move the van for me in his nightclothes, he still came outside and watched me do it. The culmination of all these facts means that when I was finally able to get my own car out, I was, fairly or not, rather furious.<br /><br />It wasn't a terribly cool morning, so there was no frost or fog on the car windows whatsoever when I got in. However, in the short time it took for me to back out of the driveway and start off down the street a little, I could not see out of the car for the fog. I tried using the wipers on the windshield and wiping the driver's side window with my sleeve, even rolling down all the windows in an attempt to equalize the temperatures and clear things up, but to no use. It was only when I calmed down a bit (yay for Enya CDs!) that the windows cleared up enough for me to actually go anywhere.<br /><br />How on earth do I explain that? Has anyone ever heard that when you're angry, you put off more heat or something? It's just a little mindboggling.<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-79658061313510118412008-10-19T09:48:00.003-04:002010-01-31T15:17:37.528-05:00MIND/SPIRIT/something like thatSo I might have to makeup a new topic heading for these posts that are not quite worldly enough to be MIND but not quite SPIRIT material, just random musings. MUSE, perhaps? Anyways...<br /><br />I was talking to T the other day, and he brought up what I think is a very interesting thought. Basically it goes this: pretty much every task or project, large or small, that you takes on reflects somehow on your entire life, or rather how you want your life to be. Specifically, in my case, T wondered if all the work I'm doing on the garden is a metaphor for what I'm trying to do with my life in general.<br /><br />When I started, the place was not quite a mess and had a decent basic setup, but it was a mix of boring bare dirt that was heavy and compacted from being ignored for too long and ugly invasive overgrown old foundation plantings. The first thing to do was to uproot and throw out everything I didn't want and dig up the soil, throwing everything in to an ugly, albeit temporary, chaos. This part is the most backbreaking and the least immediately satisfying - especially discovering bucketfuls of gravel in the soil that make it impossible to do quick work with the big shovel and force me to crouch down and pick each one out with a trowel - but even more so overall, as each day of work just reveals more of what still needs to be done. Deturfing the new flowerbed means I need to dig up all the newly-exposed soil there. Digging up and loosening the soil means I need to amend it and plant before the frost, as well as moving a good volume of soil somewhere else, as decompacting it means there seems like about twice as much as there used to be. And at the end of the day, it still looks far worse than I want it to, with mounds of bare soil everywhere - very unfinished.<br /><br />Making all the plans for the future is a bit more fun, but still just as hard work. All the pretty plans and drawn-out diagrams, while certainly fun to put together, have to work with the existing space and criteria using plants that will work in the area, considering all colors and textures of each plant (flowering, fall color and any winter interest). I want the garden to be lovely and useful in all seasons, flowing gracefully through the year without any "down time," as well as being low-maintenance (taking care of itself, basically) and pleasing not only to those people who see and use it most often but everyone else who might come across it. It's going to take some years to get it to that point, and I realise that no one else is going to want to work on it, as least not as much as I'm willing to do, so I need to commit to this now.<br /><br />I'm sure I could go on with this and find many more metaphors and probably some interesting revelations, but right now I need to go finish packing, as I'm leaving for a visit to Ohio early tomorrow morning. Yay!<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3264896959221804150.post-34189381651069623222008-10-13T21:24:00.007-04:002009-07-07T10:19:39.452-04:00BODY/MIND/a little SPIRIT: Just some loony musingsThis morning I began to have a strange feeling. If I had to place it in my body I'd be torn between putting it in the pit of my stomach and at the nape of my neck, just at that place where if someone grabs you there, your shoulders automatically hunch up. A couple of times I felt physically ill. I shrugged it off on the fact that I'd just eaten egg salad one time and found dozens of nasty white grubs in the turf I was digging the other time - but these things do not usually affect me, especially the grubs - I've been digging and de-turfing for a while now and come across hundreds of the little buggers in the past few weeks, and this is the first time that the bile has actually risen in my throat at the sight of them. I even got rather weepy a couple of times - I was thinking about W, it's true, but I thought I'd gotten to a point where I can think about him without instantly breaking into tears. But most of the time it's just a sort of eerie quiet nagging - or, as a song that just played on my Pandora station puts it, "a vague feeling of dread." Very apt.<br /><br />While poking around on the intarwubs today I noticed on the nifty little gadget that my friend now has on <a href="http://hippieatheart-inthecircle.blogspot.com/">her blog</a> that it is, in fact, a full moon tonight. Now, let me say that I have not been keeping track of this at all, but it does seem to me that I've noticed before, at times when I felt undefinably uneasy, that it turned out to be a full moon. I've definitely had many times when I just felt "off" for some reason, even way back when I was a young'un - I verbalised it then as a feeling that "something's going to happen" but nothing ever really did, that I recall.<br /><br />Noticing this possible correlation today, I did some more poking of the wubs and, while I can't find any definitive scientific studies or that kind of thing, there are a lot of comments on public forums from people saying that they feel different around the full moon, particularly mothers saying that they can track their children's behavior by the full moon, or rather that they can guess when the moon is full by how their kid is acting (it makes a difference - if you look at the calendar and expect your child to act up around a certain time, I assume that you will be more likely to notice instances of acting up around this time). Other people say that they can never sleep the night of a full moon, and wake up with the night sweats in a cool room.<br /><br />There's also the thought in the back of my mind that I am feeling this way because there is<span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">something</span></span></span> I should be doing right now, something thatI am neglecting or forgetting, and this unease is just a reminder to do it. As soon as I sign off here and drink my warm milk, I think I'll go light some candles and ponder a bit, maybe figure out what that <span style="font-style: italic;">something</span> is. I definitely want to keep tracking the mood and matching it up to the seasons and moon phases, if there is a match. I probably won't do it entirely here, but instead write it down in a notebook and summarise my findings. Goodnight for now.<br /><br />-NAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07607702995029211127noreply@blogger.com0