Clouds and Taxes

16 04 2013

I’ve been in that birdcage place in my mind for the last few days. On a rational level, I could claim that it’s any of the laundry list of influences- hormones, vomiting children, procrastination on spring cleaning and taxes, inability of seeing forests for the dicotyledons… but more than anything I have this enigmatic itch to jump out of my skin, I feel restless, I feel an adventure in the making… but where is the source of this feeling? I laid on the girls bed today while the kids were playing and/or reading… I listened to some classical music while I stared out the window at the clouds. I was giving myself a secret meditation time while the kids were on self sustained mode for the moment. I looked at the conglomerate of clean laundry to fold and walked right past, plopped down on the futon and released all the spent air that had been churning in and out of my spirit during the day that I had stamped as overwhelming even before it unfolded. We live in an old Mason’s lodge built in 1923, and the girls room is a golden cream color with huge cathedral like windows. We are well above the tree line, so lying down on their bed and looking out the window gives you the sensation of floating along with the clouds. The clouds today were real clouds, the sort of clouds I watched the wings of planes crossing oceans slice into… the sort of clouds that entertained me throughout most of my childhood. I was a quiet child, I preferred the freedom of playing by myself over playing with friends most of the time, because it gave me the undisturbed peace of staring at clouds for hours, or lying in the clover watching the world of insects move in their chessboard trajectory. When I was about Sylvia’s age, we started moving. I suppose it threw off some of my familiarity with the world I knew, but I eventually began to lose my bond with the girl who stares at clouds. I never much liked talking, it always seemed like a silly practice. I mean, there were certainly people and circumstances that allowed me to feel safe in talking about anything and everything, but for the most part, I avoided it and learned to speak in the silent language of Nature. Staring at those clouds today gave me this surreal out of body like feeling. Nostalgia, yet experience anew. My senses are tuning into old sights, scents and sounds and something is being reformatted. I used a pink cherry scented highlighter today while filing my taxes, and it smelled just like my Grandfather’s pipe tobacco. Is this sense of urging my higher self steering me into the creative process? Is this new emergence of old data part of growing up, or is it more ancient and sacred? Is this what a soul’s calling feels like? The fragmented song that you only ever catch a part of, that fades before you can hear it’s entirety… the tweaking of rabbit ears to clear the static. Something profound is afoot.

Elfriede Stegemeyer girl in clouds





spontaneous, premature solar revolution ritual

30 03 2013

Today, while randomly scrolling through my facebook I noticed that the local tattoo parlor was having a $30 2″ x 2″ black and gray custom tattoo special. I decided this was a good idea, and just as I walked out the door to take the kids to the playground, I called back to Todd that I was thinking of doing this. I thought about it more and more while the kids played. I knew instantly what I was going to choose- the bunny as a bird from the Runaway Bunny, who is resting on a branch from the tree the mother turns into. The mother who will “be a tree that you fly home to”

Image

I have been pondering this tattoo idea since long before Madelyn, Perry or Alden were born. From the moment I opened that page while reading it to baby Sylvia 10 years ago, I knew it was going to be my tattoo one day. I walked back with the kids to have lunch and get settled, and decided that this was a perfectly rational thing for me to do today, so I told Todd I was going to do it, made sure he was cool with me running out, and headed over. The tattoo shop was interesting, and like most tattoo shops, there were a bunch of guys hanging out watching a movie, watching youtube, listening to music, ordering food and having a smoke break. There were pictures of people making faces while getting tattooed on the walls, which was a minor amusement as I waited for the artist to be ready. This is my sixth tattoo, but my first work in three years (my last was my steampunk menagerie moth for my twenty ninth birthday). As he began the outline I started reading the portion of my anthropology text “Rituals and Beliefs” compiled by David Hicks about the need for ritual. The article in particular that I was reading was debating whether Durkheim was being too narrow in his concept about the construction of ritual, and proposes that rite precedes belief. I closed the book and enjoyed the tattooing, and reflected on how important, as a rite, and how very sacred each one of my tattoo experiences have been. Before I left the house, I was trying to explain the concept of getting tattooed, why it is important to me on a personal and spiritual level, and I decided that I would blog about it. In fact, I think I will continue this, as I could write a great volume about this concept and tonight is the night I have an ice cream and West Side Story date with Sylvia. For tonight, I will conclude with this- there is truly no experience like getting a tattoo. It is a beautiful, pleasurable and yet painful sensation that takes your mind out of your body and transforms your body into something new, it is the alchemy of the flesh- it is the art and magick of creation, concept made into material through ritual, through impermanent cellular sacrifice. More later, here’s the final work (pictures from cell phone, apologies for substandard quality) from my twitter:

and

More, tomorrow…





this must be the place: a midnight ode to Sebring

25 03 2013

I love the way Florida sounds at night… there’s always some strange unidentifiable alien-like sounds coming from the lake that makes me feel like I’m in the jungles of Haiti. I can’t decipher if it’s cranes, frogs, insects, the highway or an audio-casserole of everything ricocheted off the water. This place has really grown on me, and I am happy to finally have that elusive feeling of having a place to call “home”. It has been quite a journey to get to this point, however. We moved to Sebring after a year long conversation about moving somewhere outside of Georgia. There were a few places we tossed around the idea of, and some of them were in Florida as well, but there was always something very romantic in the description and research about Sebring, and Todd had grown up here, so it became more and more on our radar. We stayed for a weekend in April last year; camped out at Highlands Hammock and stayed in a room at the Kenilworth Lodge (art noveau/ Spanish revival lakeside resort built in the early 20s). I was smitten the moment we got here. I couldn’t really put my finger on it, but there was something really special about this place. We moved from Atlanta in mid May, after selling most of our possessions and packing the van up with kids, dog and whatever else could fit. The first few months were the typical new place honeymoon phase, exploring, visiting the beaches (about a 2 hour trek to either coast) and getting acclimated. Then it hit me. Like a freighter. I was homesick like I had never been homesick. I felt like my 21 year old self- crying in the kitchen of the Navy housing, barefoot and pregnant and alone. I missed my friends, I missed my family… I mourned, and dreaded and regretted, and blamed and turned into a real stink of hormones, emotions and ridiculousness. But I didn’t run from it, which is something I tended to do in the past, run to another country, city, whatever to avoid what is in my face. I went in the trenches with myself and I looked in the lens of the microscope. Slowly the community began to grow around me- there was the churches, the theater, the thrift stores… I walk nearly every where and live right in the heart of the town; which brings me to great interactions with amazing people. There is such a rich culture of people who live in this tiny little retirement community. Most people who grew up here or who have only passed through would probably never recognize this. But after living in many different cities, I think Sebring has become my favorite. There is some sort of social gathering, that is most often free or cheap happening nearly every weekend, and there is a great deal of honor and respect paid to eras gone and to the older generation here. There are a great number of artists and performers, and an appreciation as well as thirst for the arts. I can have a beautiful, deeply spiritual conversation that is void of dogma with a stranger in the produce aisle of publix, and I am almost guaranteed to run into at least one person I know daily. Sometimes, I think I made this place up, when I was a little girl. It is so reminiscent of the make-believe life I concocted when I was making my pretend movies in my grandparent’s basement. But above all else, to me, Sebring represents my undying faith in myself, and the strength of my will to not give up. I am growing, like a thistle in the summer sun. This must be the place.

(interesting side note: Highlands County is part of the Lake Wales Ridge- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Wales_Ridge  which is the ancient island that Florida once was. So we are living in a pretty ancient, sacred area here. And I’m pretty convinced this is yet another vortex)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMawfL1lE4k





Is there a tether through the underworld?

30 09 2012

I’m not sure how anyone else has been feeling over the past few months, I’ve heard feedback from some of my more intimate friends that it’s been a bit of a challenge over the last quarter for them as well. I personally, I have been riding the waves of a funk that has lasted a few months. Some weeks it’s great, others it’s textbook personal hell. I could chalk it off to being life, growing older, astrological occurrence, saturn’s return, weaning hormones, etc etc. But at the same time, we are all in this together. I discovered the light at the end of the tunnel, I began to see it’s glimmer near the time of the equinox. I had a few exchanges with a good friend that she too was feeling a turn around from her recent setbacks. This past week has been filled was beautiful, serendipitous surprise. I had three conversation with very good friends that I had fallen out of touch with, I began to feel the love growing for my environment, as well as discovering new opportunities that I had been designing the scenario for in my mind all during the funk period. I had a thought- are these down periods necessary for manifestation to occur? I feel like when I’m going through these times I learn the lessons, or at least am given the potential experiences to further explore a deeper awareness and understanding of these lessons, that are necessary for me to grow into my new reality that supports the material creation that I sought. What type of anchors can be used to help one not lose a conscious state of awareness when exploring the shadow of the self? Is there a tether through the underworld? If there is, it must be of my design, of course. Like the spinning top DiCaprio’s  character uses in Inception, there must be a totem to remind us where we are, so we do not lose our self. I am grateful for the time that just passed, it was one hell of a ride, but what amazing joy it brings! It is the fear that turns the darkness into a prison. But we must face our darkness in order to understand our light. Image





Joy, Happiness… Eudaimonia and Lola Daydream

10 09 2012

So after the unexpected and annoying death of the laptop (though, in hindsight, much appreciated cleanse of old self attached to a stupid machine)… I’m back with the power of a purple gateway pavilion g6! This lap top makes me want to write much more often, so here’s to continuing promises of new habits!

This past week, er two… has been fast paced and full of lots of lessons as well as joy. Joy is something that I am attempting to cultivate more of in every moment of my life. I find that when I stop, breathe and find the joy in each situation, I can go deeper in my awareness of the world around as well as within me. I had a few moments this week I wasn’t too proud of, I lost my awareness and allowed my subconscious little girl to carry a megaphone. I said things I didn’t mean, had a tantrum, and stepped outside of myself to see a map of each moment in my life when I began to think in the specific categorical ways that caused a loss of grace. In Unity recently, we’ve been talking about blessing each new thing that comes into our lives. I see these moments as gifts from the Universe for having a more complete view of the entire issue, and see the lesson as a whole. It’s a funny experience, seeing yourself on the outside and realizing how ludicrous it is to carry on with the expected role. I have bigger, more interesting roles to play.

Joy. What is it? How do we define it? Joy is synonymous with happiness, and yet happiness is full of endless definitions and also undefinable. I decided to play the Wikipedia game.From Joy to Happiness to Eudaimonia.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eudaimonia

The six-factor structure of eudaimonia in psychology are as follows (as conceptualized by C.D. Ryff):

  1. Autonomy
  2. Personal growth
  3. Self-acceptance
  4. Purpose in life
  5. Environmental mastery
  6. Positive relations with others

Eudaimonia also refers to a guardian spirit, as the etymology of the word means good spirit. I know that (through personal experience) the sensation of joy, happiness, etc is a very similar feeling to that of being in a higher state of consciousness. Perhaps eudaimonia is our higher self, and the emotional interpretation of the state of being is in the sensation of atonement? Perhaps the atonement (also, today in Unity we talked about atonement, and seeing the basic breakdown of the word: at-one-ment was a refreshing a-ha moment for me) is the elusive Holy Guardian Angel, the actualization of self. This subject, I shall seek further understanding later. For tonight, I will end with the realization that on October 5, my saturn return shall be over. I have less than a month to celebrate the most interesting three years of my life. My, what a ride it has been, I can’t wait to look back on how far I have traveled.

When I am awake, you see, I know that I am dreaming, so that they must be very silly children, don’t you think?

Liber XCV

The Wake World

THE WAKE WORLD
A TALE FOR BABES AND SUCKLINGS
(WITH EXPLANITORY NOTES IN HEBREW AND LATIN FOR THE USE
OF THE WISE AND PRUDENT

http://hermetic.com/crowley/libers/lib95.html





Today’s Elemental reading (for a friend)

28 08 2012

https://twitter.com/#!/mamaheyoka/media/slideshow?url=pic.twitter.com%2FY6vpGdCY

I’ve been playing around with an interpretive elemental/pentagram spread in my readings recently, using the traditional ruling of the pentagram: Spirit, Air, Earth, Fire and Water.

Read the rest of this entry »





Slack

28 08 2012

I’ve been rather slack with my blog this past week, but in life I have managed to walk nearly 3 miles a day, do daily yoga, and get some housework done- as well as find all of the girl’s dance supplies for around 50 bucks (brand new we would have been looking at close to 200) thanks to eBay, and have begun the flow of the school week. Alden and I are working on art, letters, counting, doing some reading and games- and trying to fit in some blogging time as well. This week’s priorities are: remaining eBay auctions listed, more blogging, tarot and morning ritual meditation habit, daily yoga/dance as well as continued walks to school, Todd’s birthday (planing a special day for him, he’s turning 43!) and hopefully, some art time as well. My best friend had her baby last night (as well as another friend from high school!) at home, breech!! I’m so proud of her! I hope the storm dissipates in the Gulf, but lots of safe thoughts to my friends evacuating New Orleans right now, and protection to my favorite city!