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Jul. 12th, 2009

harpy

The work indescribable

It winds around my mind and my heart, inky and sticky, whispers in my ear that I am utterly alone and will remain that way. All chances lost, the story over, friendship withered. It is truth that there is no other hand to help me stand but my own. No storyteller will write my mythology but myself. Over and over and over again I collapse and must do the work of re-arranging my limbs, contracting the muscles, placing my hands and feet there and there to push up, to stand, and risk collapsing again. My work is to watch this spiral coil again while I find a new vantage point from which to see the pattern and where the pattern can be softened and shaped, by my own warm hands kneading, until the vessel of my heart is stronger and brighter.
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Apr. 19th, 2009

harpy

Just can't fake it, just can't make it?

I consider myself to have been a pagan for about 12 years. Sometimes I wonder what I have accomplished for myself under that label. I've certainly made some very valuable and amazing friends through my path. One of the reasons I married M was because of his spiritual dedication. I suppose if I had never met one particular pagan, I never would have found the UU church, which has provided a haven to turn to when community is scarce. But, from time to time, I feel critical about what it means for me to call myself pagan.

Read more... )
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Apr. 3rd, 2009

recent me

Healing

For the past month or so, H has been having a particularly difficult time missing his papa. I find it startling that, after 7 months of living in Florida with nary a tear, he suddenly now feels papa's absence so acutely. It breaks my heart and fills me with impatience to get back to Illinois for H's sake.

Tonight was no different with H expressing sadness that "steals the energy" required to even kiss Grandma and Grandpa goodnight. It's amazing to hear him describe this sadness in terms of how its affecting his ability to do other things -- he's so spot on. After I read his bedtime story, he told me again that the sadness was distracting him from sleep. I got the idea to perhaps lend some reiki energy to his heart and asked him, in his own terms, if I could help heal him. He agreed and so I laid hand to his heart and cycled my breathing, letting the universe do its thing. After a little while, I could feel sadness in myself welling up, but I tried to breath it through. H moved my hand to his solar plexis for a while. He's such an innate healer himself. After I removed my hand he told me he didn't quite have enough energy, so I returned to healing. Then he said he wanted to give me energy while I gave him energy and began to describe a sort of energy/love transfusion that he wished to perform. It was breathtaking. He looked so happy to help heal me. He told me the love was taking energy away from the sadness instead of the other way around. Shortly after that he contentedly went to sleep.

Mar. 22nd, 2009

inanna

Inanna descends

For every segment of my life that is oily, covered in a film of fear and anger, I want to replace it with that which glows with love or mesmerizes with the unseen swirling mystery of the Universe. Lately it seems that this might be taking place automatically. Even while what meager thread of trust I had in M unravels, I feel more hope and connection to the dazzling technicolor future, my land of Oz where I will step out in wonder and awe when this house settles from its tornado ride. But before I get there, I feel as though layers of illusion must be peeled away. I used to chalk this up to bad luck and that mirror I broke in '04 but now I wonder if it's not the debridement of the crippling patterns and assumptions I had developed over the last eight years. I cast aside those baubles I thought I needed in order to learn the mysteries of the lower worlds.

Late last week I had a horrible, tearful end of the day. But the beginning of it, the first half, was fused with the Universe. First, while we ate lunch, H suddenly started talking about chocolate cake and how much he loved it, how much he craved it. Minutes later, my father returned from errands with a surprise dessert -- chocolate cupcakes. I love when things like that happen. But then, as we later drove to a nearby park to play, I was listening to a song on my iPod via my car radio and suddenly thought I ought to switch over to my favorite podcast, Darker Shade of Pagan. Just as I was reaching for my iPod, Darker Shade of Pagan began. This astounded me. I have only the newest episode on my iPod, among more than 600 songs. And yet, this tiny shining gift presents itself, entreating me to see this too as evidence that the Universe is listening. To me. H calls these "beautiful mysteries."

One of my dearest friends in the world, who happens to live in Champaign-Urbana, seems to be championing my return to East Central Illinois, to the towns where I felt the most creativity, the most joy, the most myself. Every conversation with her seems to open new possibilities. The Universe speaks in her voice to me and tells me to place my trust in what is being shown to me, what is unfolding before me. The glory of this garden is intricate and slowly, slowly, slowly opening but I am watching carefully. I know that soon I'll be able to see the changes as they occur, rather than admiring them in hindsight. In the waiting time, I need to take a breath and another, drop the heavy pack containing guilt and misplaced responsibility, and feel with my soul when it's time for me to move and when I need to watch for my next foothold.

Feb. 24th, 2009

recent me

On that day

From http://www.paulsadowski.com/birthday.asp


Birthday Calculator
21 November 1973
Your date of conception was on or about 28 February 1973 which was a Wednesday.

You were born on a Wednesday
under the astrological sign Scorpio.
Your Life path number is 7.

Your fortune cookie reads:
Your heart is pure, and your mind clear, and your soul devout.

Life Path Compatibility:
You are most compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 1, 5 & 7.
You should get along well with those with the Life Path numbers 4 & 22.
You may or may not get along well with those with the Life Path number 9.
You are least compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 2, 3, 6, 8 & 11.

The Julian calendar date of your birth is 2442007.5.
The golden number for 1973 is 17.
The epact number for 1973 is 25.
The year 1973 was not a leap year.

Your birthday falls into the Chinese year beginning 2/3/1973 and ending 1/22/1974.
You were born in the Chinese year of the Ox.

Your Native American Zodiac sign is Snake; your plant is Thistle.

You were born in the Egyptian month of Tyby, the first month of the season of Poret (Emergence - Fertile soil).

Your date of birth on the Hebrew calendar is 26 Heshvan 5734.
Or if you were born after sundown then the date is 27 Heshvan 5734.

The Mayan Calendar long count date of your birthday is 12.18.0.6.3 which is
12 baktun 18 katun 0 tun 6 uinal 3 kin

The Hijra (Islamic Calendar) date of your birth is Wednsday, 25 Shavval 1393 (1393-10-25).

The date of Easter on your birth year was Sunday, 22 April 1973.
The date of Orthodox Easter on your birth year was Sunday, 29 April 1973.
The date of Ash Wednesday (the first day of Lent) on your birth year was Wednesday 7 March 1973.
The date of Whitsun (Pentecost Sunday) in the year of your birth was Sunday 10 June 1973.
The date of Whisuntide in the year of your birth was Sunday 17 June 1973.
The date of Rosh Hashanah in the year of your birth was Thursday, 27 September 1973.
The date of Passover in the year of your birth was Tuesday, 17 April 1973.
The date of Mardi Gras on your birth year was Tuesday 6 March 1973.

As of 2/24/2009 12:40:40 AM EST
You are 35 years old.
You are 423 months old.
You are 1,840 weeks old.
You are 12,879 days old.
You are 309,096 hours old.
You are 18,545,800 minutes old.
You are 1,112,748,040 seconds old.

Celebrities who share your birthday:

Ken Griffey, Jr. (1969)Troy Aikman (1966)Bj”rk (1965)
Goldie Hawn (1945)Harold Ramis (1944)Juliet Mills (1941)
Marlo Thomas (1938)Joseph Campanella (1927)Stan Musial (1920)
Rene Magritte (1898)William Beaumont (1785)Voltaire (1694)

Top songs of 1973
Killing Me Softly with His Song by Roberta FlackTie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree by Dawn
My Love by Paul McCartney & WingsYou're So Vain by Carly Simon
Crocodile Rock by Elton JohnLet's Get It On by Marvin Gaye
Keep On Truckin' by Eddie KendricksBad, Bad Leroy Brown by Jim Croce
Top of the World by CarpentersMidnight Train to Georgia by Gladys Knight & the Pips

Your age is the equivalent of a dog that is 5.04070450097847 years old.
Your lucky day is Tuesday.
Your lucky number is 9 & 11.
Your ruling planet(s) is Mars & Pluto.
Your lucky dates are 1st, 10th, 19th, 28th.
Your opposition sign is Taurus.
Your opposition number(s) is 6.

Today is not one of your lucky days!

There are 270 days till your next birthday
on which your cake will have 36 candles.

Those 36 candles produce 36 BTUs,
or 9,072 calories of heat (that's only 9.0720 food Calories!) .
You can boil 4.11 US ounces of water with that many candles.

In 1973 there were approximately 3.7 million births in the US.
In 1973 the US population was approximately 203,302,031 people, 57.4 persons per square mile.
In 1973 in the US there were approximately 2,158,802 marriages (10.6%) and 708,000 divorces (3.5%)
In 1973 in the US there were approximately 1,921,000 deaths (9.5 per 1000)
In the US a new person is born approximately every 8 seconds.
In the US one person dies approximately every 12 seconds.

In 1973 the population of Australia was approximately 13,614,344.
In 1973 there were approximately 247,670 births in Australia.
In 1973 in Australia there were approximately 112,700 marriages and 16,195 divorces.
In 1973 in Australia there were approximately 110,822 deaths.


Your birthstone is Citrine

The Mystical properties of Citrine

Citrine is said to help one connect with Spirit.
Some lists consider these stones to be your birthstone. (Birthstone lists come from Jewelers, Tibet, Ayurvedic Indian medicine, and other sources)
Yellow Topaz, Pearl, Diamond

Your birth tree is
Chestnut Tree, the Honesty

Of unusual beauty, does not want to impress, well-developed sense of justice, vivacious, interested, a born diplomat, but irritable and sensitive in company, often due to a lack of self-confidence, acts sometimes superior, feels not understood, loves only once, has difficulties in finding a partner.


There are 304 days till Christmas 2009!
There are 317 days till Orthodox Christmas!

The moon's phase on the day you were
born was waning crescent.

Feb. 21st, 2009

wonder woman

Theme of the week

Last weekend I drove down to Ft Myers with the kids to attend our very dear friend and H's "godmother" A's ordination and installation at the UU church there. A handful of folks I hadn't seen since I lived in Chicago were there and it was heartwarming to see them.  The ordination was a remarkable service. It reminded me a bit of a wedding, with the sort of majestic importance of anticipation and beginnings. The minister from Second Unitarian in Chicago, where my little family had attended from when H was a newborn to when he was 2 1/2, was in attendence and took part in the service. It made me more than a little homesick to hear her speak at the pulpit, with A there too. I got swept away in the hospitality and hominess of the Ft. Myers church and imagined, for just a little bit, that it could be a place I could move to. But no. It's not the place for me.

A had us stay with an utterly sympatico family -- I immediately felt as though I'd known them for years and years. H had so much fun playing there that he absolutely threw a fit that we had to leave the  next morning. I and the wife talked about all sorts of issues and naturally the conversation meandered toward my broken marriage and paganism. She remarked that it seemed that paganism drew strong women, but weak men. I answered with some off-the-cuff ideas that it may have something to do with poor role models and lack of sufficient elder influence, but I hadn't really given the matter much thought.

Tonight, as I stood by the fire pit at the home of good friends D & L wrapping up a fun evening of campfire s'mores and hot dogs, silly innuendo, and overly rambunctious kids scrambling around in the sand and piles of firewood, the issue came up again quite unexpectedly. D and I were having our usual rant about What's Wrong With Wicca and he asked practically the same question, albeit in more colorful language. D follows an Asatru path, which seems to have very little patience for weakness and coddling of any flavor. And, again, I had to offer that I thought it all came down to propensity for neopagan and wiccan groups to provide the sort of environment that allows men who have a rather vague idea of how to communicate with women, strongly suspect something's very wrong with the male-dominated system, and  yet crave female approval in rather disfunctional ways to feel normal and maintain the sort of gender interaction that presented little confrontation or challenge. From what I've seen of neopagan social interaction, from the various pagan events and groups I've been involved with, guys are generally encouraged to be one of the following:  brooding and cryptic, brash and theatrical, gamer nerdy, or a hippy.  Rare is the grounded, balanced sort with enough self-confidence not to try to prove something to somebody. Is this a general human problem? An American problem? Does it have anything to do with paganism at all? I seem to have an unrelenting desire to figure this out.

Feb. 10th, 2009

recent me

(no subject)

Yesterday, after a double-header library excursion, the kids and I went over to H's preferred playground to enjoy the comfortable weather. H was looking for a particular boy he'd played with last Thursday, although he was quite willing to make new friends. And I was not surprised to see him quickly joining in with a couple of boys already playing there. Things got started within the gated pre-schooler playground but they quickly moved out to H's preferred arena -- the surrounding tree-filled area, chock-full of H's favorite toy: sticks. I bounced R around in her sling as I overheard H brandishing drills, crossbows, and whatever other tools the pine and oak boughs magically became. There was also a large drain embedded in the landscape and before too long, H found delight in dropping bits of wood and sticks down the holes of the grate.

Continued ... )

Feb. 7th, 2009

harpy

Pulling Weeds

My parents have a plentiful yard. When they first moved into this house, the back yard was oak trees and grass. Now it's landscaped with an abundance of flora that seems to change subtly over the years. There are at least a dozen hibiscus, a camphor tree, azalea bushes, and quite a few other plants that I can't identify. Pathos, one of the easiest houseplants to grow, has taken over one oak tree and its leaves have reached terrifying proportions. At one time there was a pomagranate tree, but somehow it disappeared, likely swallowed up by the ferns and viney weeds in the overgrown northwest corner.

Continued ... )
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Jan. 12th, 2009

harpy

Severence

I feel like I'm coming to a crux, a crucial point, not a breakthrough but a dissolution. I feel the beginnings of a crack, a split in myself where I may finally be able to plane away the false selves that I've cultivated over the past 20 years. The past five months have been a process of percussion, where my anguish and anger have hammered against my choices, thoughts, patterns of behavior, beliefs about who I am and who I live to be. Who am I if I am not living to please others? How do I break away from a life of constant careful measurement and expectation? How do I switch off all the voices that I listen to before I listen to my own?
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Dec. 12th, 2008

recent me

There I am again.

Your result for The Personality Defect Test...


Emo Kid


You are the Emo Kid, best described as a quiet pussy! You tend to be an intuitive rather than a logical thinker, meaning you rely more on your feelings than your thoughts. Not only that, but you are introverted, gentle, and rather humble. You embody all the traits of the perfect emo kid. You are a push-over, an emotional thinker, gentle to the extent of absurdity, and so humble that it even makes Jesus puke. (And Jesus almost never pukes, being immortal and not requiring an act of puke to dispell toxins from his corporeal manifestation.) If you write poetry, you no doubt write angsty, syrupy lines about depression, sadness, and other such redundant states of emo-being that go something like this:


life is a spike / upon which i have impaled mysefl / fuck you dad


So, your personality is defective because you are too gentle, rather underconfident in yourself, decidely lacking in any rational thought, and also a bit too inhibited. Plus, your poetry really upsets your father.


I probably made you cry, didn't I? Fucking Emo Kid.


To put it less negatively:

1. You are more INTUITIVE than rational.

2. You are more INTROVERTED than extroverted.

3. You are more GENTLE than brutal.

4. You are more HUMBLE than arrogant.


Compatibility:


Your exact opposite is the Smartass.


Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Hippie, the Televangelist, and the Starving Artist.


*


*


If you scored near fifty percent for a certain trait (42%-58%), you could very well go either way. For example, someone with 42% Extroversion is slightly leaning towards being an introvert, but is close enough to being an extrovert to be classified that way as well. Below is a list of the other personality types so that you can determine which other possible categories you may fill if you scored near fifty percent for certain traits.


The other personality types:

The Emo Kid: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Starving Artist: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Bitch-Slap: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Brute: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Hippie: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Televangelist: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Schoolyard Bully: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Class Clown: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Robot: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Haughty Intellectual: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Spiteful Loner: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Sociopath: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

The Hand-Raiser: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble.

The Braggart: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant.

The Capitalist Pig: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble.

The Smartass: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.


Be sure to take my Sublime Philosophical Crap Test if you are interested in taking a slightly more intellectual test that has just as many insane ramblings as this one does!


About Saint_Gasoline



I am a self-proclaimed pseudo-intellectual who loves dashes. I enjoy science, philosophy, and fart jokes and water balloons, not necessarily in that order. I spend 95% of my time online, and the other 5% of my time in the bathroom, longing to get back on the computer. If, God forbid, you somehow find me amusing instead of crass and annoying, be sure to check out my blog and my webcomic at SaintGasoline.com.


Take The Personality Defect Test
at HelloQuizzy

Dec. 7th, 2008

isis

Wish it were that easy, glad it's not that expensive.

Last night I had this awesome dream. I was in my bedroom (of the house where I grew up) and I realize I'm talking to this guy about getting a tattoo. He runs the tattoo parlor and he's sort of the broker of the deal. Then, suddenly, the tattoo artist is there. I ask him to do an image of Isis on my left shin. The tattoo artist is this amazingly hot black guy with long dreads. The tattoo is absolutely painless. In fact, I somehow I don't even notice that he ends up tattooing both my legs in entirety with all sorts of different images. Isis doesn't really bear any resemblence to what I'd originally wanted. It's rather cartoony and I think to myself, in my dream, that the artist's work resembles Jim Woodring. As I'm admiring my newly inked legs, the broker returns and says that my tattoo (the original one I requested) costs $400. I tell him it's no problem as I think about how I don't have enough in my bank account. Then I think about my savings account as well and realize that I do in fact have the money.

Dec. 6th, 2008

recent me

(no subject)

When I was a freshman in college, I chose art as my major. But I never really felt like an artist most of the time. Indeed, I didn't graduate with a BFA but went with the more reliable English degree. But in the year that I chose art I came closest to the ecstasy of body and spirit that I have neglected since then until I realized it was for that ecstasy that I chose the Pagan path.

I usually had a really difficult time with most of the class assignments I was given in my various painting and drawing classes, particularly when asked to conceptualize something rather abstract and put it into some solid art form. I'd immediately want to volley myself into some sort of obtuse, gradiose message or concept and then siphon the myriad ideas filling my head down into my hands and the materials I had around me. I was frequently frustrated and often created art that looked pretty childish or lacked the depth in the visual that I explored in my mind. I did my best work when asked to simply draw or paint what I saw. Discovering what negative space meant revolutionized the way I looked at everything around me. I remember immediately after a class in negative space, I looked with wonder at the pulsing forms around the leaves and limbs, rather than the tree itself. And infrequent but precious were the late nights in my little dorm study room where I'd throw my entire being into a piece, wiping my paint soaked brush on my arms, my shirt  before pulling out another color from a tube or palette. There was no hesitation, no self-conciousness, only breathing and limbs moving and the canvas and the feeling that I was putting down my blood, saliva, viscera.

Last night I picked up the book I've been reading gradually since I got to Florida in August, Mists of Avalon. A good friend of mine directed me to it to remind me of the ideals of the High Priestess. I read a scene where Morgaine searches for the way onto the Isle of Avalon. Morgaine had lost her way after years of mundane court life and feared she had betrayed her ideals as a priestess and servant of the Goddess and thereby forfeit her power and place among the sacred. Eventually she is drawn to dine with the Fae and loses those fears and inhibitions as she revels in the otherworldly party. Suddenly I realized I had completely forgotten myself. I had become drawn back into the quagmires of delusion -- consumption, distraction, doubt. It hit me that I had strayed far from the path I had originally set out to follow.

The life of the human, the life of a woman is not about piling game upon game until I forgot my loneliness and sadness and pass the time until my next destination. And dedication to the Sacred natural world would not be served in this cocooned existence. My life cannot be about collecting books and DVDs, whether some man likes me, whether I have the right shoe for a situation, whether I've joined the most interesting clubs to cultivate my social status. The most important work I can do is to strip away all the protections I crave until I am my essential self, able to absorb and reflect experience in bone and blood and sweat. Being a human is about full lungs, searing pain of childbirth that obliterates everything, the pungent friction of sex, my hands cracking branches to toss in a fire, the tangy sweet juice of a Braeburn apple. I waste my children's life teaching them to bide their time with this book or that TV show. To be fully present with them, to invite them to be fully present in the world gives them the gifts of their birthright.

Likewise, my spiritual life cannot be about living inside my head, running simulations of this political confrontation or that philosophical puzzle. Imagination is one componant of my spiritual being, but can only go as far as to find ways to put my hands on that which is tangible and part of the world of the living, of growth and decay. My spirituality is not about being civilized, it's about being primal, about remembering the animal foundation that lies underneath human innovation and stories and what will remain when our inventions crumble.

Nov. 19th, 2008

harpy

Surrender Dorothy


For a very long time I've been getting little messages from the universe. They usually happen on a daily basis. Individually, they don't mean much but taken together, I know they have some kind of significance. Almost every day I get a reference to the Wizard of Oz. It can happen in the form of a familiar phrase from the story, a reference to a character, a scene from the movie, a song. Today it was a song. And to magnify its significance, it was the same song that ran through my head as I gave birth to my daughter after seeing it on some game show on the hospital room TV as I transitioned into hard labor. Today as I listened to the song on the radio, it occurred to me that perhaps this song has some significant meaning itself, apart from being my Oz Reference for the Day.

Here are the lyrics and I will revisit them for insight over time. Already I notice a theme of breaking from an unhealthy relationship, which has an obvious parallel for me.

When are you gonna come down
When are you going to land
I should have stayed on the farm
I should have listened to my old man

You know you can't hold me forever
I didn't sign up with you
I'm not a present for your friends to open
This boy's too young to be singing the blues

So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough

Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road

What do you think you'll do then
I bet that'll shoot down your plane
It'll take you a couple of vodka and tonics
To set you on your feet again

Maybe you'll get a replacement
There's plenty like me to be found
Mongrels who ain't got a penny
Sniffing for tidbits like you on the ground

recent me

Is there a fancy German word for "the luxury of ideological angst"?


During my stay in Florida, I've participated in my mom's book discussion group. The first month I was here, we read a superficial, vapid beach read of a book. Last month I got to pick and chose one of my favorite fictional "span of human development" novels. This month, we read Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. Far from a light page-turner, this book has shaken my understanding of religious tolerance and I'm having a hard time recovering.

Ali's book is a memoir of her years growing up in Somalia, Ethiopia and Nairobi under the brutal constraints of strict Muslim practices, all amid a backdrop of the violence the world witnessed in those areas in the '90s. It wasn't enough to learn about the unspeakable torture of men, women, babies, but I also learned of the fairly typical homelife of a devout Muslim family where 5-year-old girls undergo unanesthetized genital mutilation in their kitchen, wives are beaten, women have no rights to whom they marry and no resources of that man chooses to leave them, and women and girls labor under the crippling codes of behavior where any small action can earn eternal shame and damnation. This was a really hard book to read. So many times I wanted to give up. I'm already under some pretty heavy stress -- why would I want to pile on more?

But I finished the book and it's left me unsure what to think. I believe in the idea of free and responsible search for truth and meaning. I believe in the right of everyone to practice the religious path that sustains them. I'm one of the liberals that Ali chastises for condoning the mistreatment of women by upholding the right of Muslim families to keep their culture and religious practices. I don't think Ali has a chip on her shoulder or a zealous agenda to push. She's not talking about fringe extremists -- she saw this sort of oppression of women all over the Netherlands, in Canada. She feared for her life just for speaking out against antiquated ideas in the Koran. She was alienated by her family because she didn't want to marry a man she didn't know or like. And this isn't in a distant time -- Ali is only about 7 years older than me. And Ali didn't grow up a rebellious girl dazzled by Western consumerism and glamour -- she was devoted to Islam, the desire to serve Allah faithfully and attain spiritual wholeness. Even as she attended university in the Netherlands, she partitioned her mind in order to keep her personal religious beliefs separate from the heretical ideas she learned about. She seems to be a reasonable, reliable narrator and what she says about the state of modern Islam really scares me.

So now I'm not sure what to think. Islam is one of the major world religions and to think that this belief system practiced by millions routinely violates all manner of human rights is disturbing. I don't know enough about Islam to know whether to turn away from its current value as a spiritual path and personally speak out against it as a spiritual person and as a feminist. And, ultimately, it saddens me that humans may not be as evolved as spiritual beings as I once thought.

Nov. 7th, 2008

kids

Kids say the darndest things

H continues to amaze with the words that come out of his mouth. While we were trick or treating last week, after encountering a house where the occupants left a note to take one or two pieces of candy from a proffered bowl, H reported to me and my mom that no one was there and he "just got voice mail."

Tonight while we were all gathered around the flatscreen hearth watching Washington Week In Review, H turned to me and whispered, "Barack Obama is a good man". I said I agreed. Then, very solemnly, H leaned against a pillow and said, "He has what our country needs."

*blink*

On the other hand, sometimes the stuff he comes up with gives me pause and enlightens me on areas that I need to observe and perhaps be a bit cautious. About a week ago, as my mom, the kids, and I drove up to the mall to find suitably warm nursing shirts for me, H talked about how girls couldn't do "big and strong" construction work, as demonstrated by R's inability to do much. I tried to counter this idea and tell H that just because R was a baby now, doesn't mean that her strength will be diminished when she's older since she's a girl. H was adament that girls simply couldn't be as strong. I didn't want to fight about it but I wondered where he got that notion. Other than the obvious gender differences in clothing, I try to keep gender typing far away from R and H to the best of my ability. Since H was talking about construction, it led me to believe he'd formed his opinion based on what he'd seen in his Mighty Machines videos and possibly Bob the Builder, to a lesser degree. I know Bob the Builder has a female friend but I haven't seen any episodes showing her place in the Bob workscape. And as far as I could remember, Mighty Machines showed zero female construction workers even though some vehicles have female personas. Yuck! I wonder if there are any construction videos that show female workers.

It made me realize that, while I am always trying to be observant of gender stereotypes and do consider myself to be a feminist, I have absolutely no concrete plan on how to raise feminist children. I guess I'd hoped that infusing my parenting with lots of fair-mindedness, respect, and open communication, plus having lots of subversive feminist zines lying around would kinda do the trick. But I'm realizing now I need to step up my game to combat the insidious media influence. I want to make sure that the kids are exposed to media in a circumspect way and I want to offer a balance between eschewing mainstream culture and growing an understanding of the context in which everyone lives. But I think I'll need some tools to accompany that constant juggling act. 

Nov. 5th, 2008

recent me

Awesome

Your result for Which Tarot Card Represents Your Higher Self? Test...

The High Priestess


The High Priestess is arguably the most difficult of the Major Arcana to qualify with words alone, because so much of her power and ability is veiled in mystery that it is difficult for anyone to fathom it all. Every card in the Tarot speaks differently to everyone, but the Priestess seems to bear the widest range of interpretations, because she speaks directly to the Inner Voice, the unconscious mind. She is the manifestation of the unconscious and the effects of the mysterious in our everyday world. Trying to see how such mysteries work often defeats their purpose, and with this in mind, the High Priestess will be explained in as much detail as possible.


She is, above all else, the base of potential that is the source of the power wielded by the Magician. She is the unlimited potential that allows him to transform and create whatever his Will desires. Understanding this type of balance, as found between potential and creation, masculine and feminine, is the key to unlocking some of the mysteries of the High Priestess. We see the clear progression of the theme of balance; instead of integrating opposites, the Priestess keeps them separate and keeps them in balance nonetheles. She herself is the scales; this symbolism is found in many Tarot decks. Without this balance there can be no power.


The second symbolic motif found in almost all instances of the High Preistess are symbols of the unconscious mind. On the Rider-Waite version this motif is especially prominent, but most decks feature at least some lunar imagery that in turn has ties to the unconscious. Most decks that have the "twin pillars" symbology also depict a veil strung between those pillars; the High Priestess stands between us and that veil as a moderator. Behind the veil lies the powers of the unconscious, which we cannot start to understand but which, through her, we can learn to control. She is the gateway to realms that we may never fully comprehend or master.


While it would be impossible for anyone to learn all of her mysteries and secrets, the High Priestess remains as a guide to those of us willing to venture deep within our minds to discover the true powers hidden deep inside each of us. This is the same power as that depicted on the Magician, but the scope of the Priestess' power is far different. While the Magician focuses his powers outward, to achieve a meaningful effect on the world, the High Priestess shows us that we can also use these powers on an inner level, to enrich and transform ourselves. Such transformations are certainly not as dramatic as the Magician's, but they are almost always more powerful.


The High Priestess represents the mysteries of the unconscious and the Inner Voice, and her appearance is often a sign that your own intuition is trying to send you a message. The unconscious often speaks to us in symbols, so be alert around you for anything that seems out of the ordinary. This said, if you have an important decision to make when the Priestess appears, this is often a sign that the answers will be revealed to you, if you are patient and open to the whispers from within. You simply have to wait and be receptive to inner messages. Her lesson is that everything you need to know already exists within you.


The theme of dualism in the High Preistess cannot be avoided either. She is often a sign of the Shadow, the negative portion of your personality that no one sees, and that you yourself could be unaware of. (In this sense, the term 'negative' does not refer to evil, just the opposite polarity from the positive and expressive part of your personality.) If you accept the Shadow within you, its powers will be open to you if you wish to use them. In most people the Shadow side is the more passive of the two, and the Priestess can therefore advocate a need for passivity in a situation. It is not always necessary to act; sometimes goals can be realized through inaction.

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Oct. 30th, 2008

harpy

Freaking out

I don't know where this came from, but this evening I've been really freaking out about my current and future financial situation as it pertains to M's support. Since I've been down here, he's sent me $400 and I have no cause to believe he's going to voluntarily send the monthly amount he and I agreed to and that a court of law would hold him to in the form of child support. I was hoping that all this could come together without having to go through a divorce, simply for the legal fee cost issue and the possible loss of health insurance, but it looks like I'm going to have to get all legal on him as soon as I'm able to file for a divorce in Florida.

Every time I talk to him, I feel like I'm having to be his mom and wheedle and cajole any little penny. My original plan in coming to Florida (other than the fact that I had not one penny to my name and therefore could not afford to live anywhere much less put the kids into daycare while looking for a job in Chicago) was so that I could save the money M sent so that I could come back up to Chicago, get an apartment and get the kids going in day care while securing a job and, again, not be homeless. But with what little he sends me, I'm barely paying the bills I'm responsible for while I'm down here. How will it be possible for me to come back to where the rest of my shit is, where my children's father is, where my friends are? All along my time here, I've told H about a future where we take all his fun new toys and movies back to Chicago, where he gets a pet turtle at Papa's house, where he shows snow to R. It hurts too much to imagine telling H that this future cannot be.

At the same time, I'm afraid I might be getting panicked too early, that perhaps this time M really will get his act together and send money once he's payed off the bills he says he's swamped with. His track record while I've been down here is about 50-50 on keeping his promises, so it's hard to tell. I'm just feeling really depressed more and more with the atmosphere living in this house, having few friends to connect with on a regular basis on spiritual issues and insights or other interests of mine, getting absolutely no breaks from child care (from H, occasionally, but never more than a half hour from R.) 

The thing that scares me the most is that, since our breakup, M has never taken one bit of initiative when it comes to his connection with the kids. Everything he's done, I've asked and reminded him about. He's talked about such plans as writing stories for H and telling them to H over the phone in a serialized form. Never happened. He's never sent the kids anything in the postal mail other than H's birthday gifts, which weren't even wrapped.  He's never called here of his own free will. Never talked about trying to perhaps fly down to see the kids (oh, that's right, no money.) And yet, I see tons of initiative for his beloved meetup project. He's always got something going there. It galls me that he honestly does not see this whole situation from any other perspective than his own and that his perspective is apparently the best one.

I wish it didn't hurt so much to imagine H not seeing his father. I wish I didn't feel as though my heart was breaking all over again in my fear. I sincerely wish something or someone would break into his mind and impress upon him the gravity of his actions.

Oct. 25th, 2008

harpy

Samhain with the kids

Tonight was the much-anticipated Witches Masquerade Ball at Tampa UU. It's their biggest fundraiser and very well attended. I dressed as a tribal bellydancer, having worked on my costume for around 2 months. H. went as a bat. We arrived when the event began, at 6 p.m. There weren't many people there and all my strange ideas of this being some kind of spooky sexy Halloween party kinda fizzled as I was reminded that, duh, this is a church function. There were tons of goth kids, abundant gauzy wings affixed to many ladies' and children's backs, and a few very silly food related costumes. A tasty dinner was served. Alcohol was also available, although I stuck with dihydrous monoxide.

There were two hilights to the evening. The first occurred right after I deposited a few items in the car so as to free up my hands a bit. H. led me to walk deeper into the wooded parking area and my repeated attempts to circle him back to the Big Dome of the church failed as he pleaed with me to go further and further. I wondered what could be so intriguing about college and high school kids gossipping by their trunks or families assembling themselves in preparation to go in. Eventually H. brought me toward an obvious entryway where torches stood and people were quietly entering. After I was given a small orange ribbon and I walked with H. along a torch-lined path I realized that, without even knowing about it himself, H. had led me to the Samhain ritual I'd looked forward to but was unaware was starting momentarily! I swear, that kid is so naturally magickal and tuned in, it freaks me out.

The second hilight was, of course, the ritual. It's been a while since I've attended a Samhain ritual and I don't believe I've ever attended one outside. The weather was cool and dry (a full-on miracle for Florida) and the cauldron at the center of the circle lit right up to provide that dearly loved bonfire-y scent that is magick to me. The ritual was very simple but the fact that it was done in an inky darkness lit only by torches, candles and a very small cauldron fire in a clearing in the heart of thick woods was absolutely ideal. I could imagine those from beyond the veil winding their way in among the tree branches and oozing clumps of moss. Even H.'s usual overly-loud comments during absolutely silent times seemed more like Fae flippancy than just a four-year-old's curiosity.

The gift the gods gave to me tonight was to remind me that I don't need to focus on enticing a man. I will remember the lesson of The High Priestess whose strength and power come from standing firmly in both worlds of the seen and unseen.

Oct. 23rd, 2008

recent me

Highlights


 I just don't have the creative gumption to write out paragraphs and witticisms today. Here are some highlights:

*  I played hooky from my class tonight. I then reasoned that I'm progressing through lessons so quickly that I'm not getting corrections back from my advisor at an adequate pace to truly catch mistakes I may be making. So I need to take a night off. That's the ticket. Actually, I was just watching 'The Office' and 'Weekend Update Thursday' on a television set for the first time (rather than on Hulu.)

*  I bought my mom a birthday gift for the first time in a few years. It's a shirt and I hope she likes it. H. almost gave the surprise away this evening at dinner.

*  I ate too many dark chocolate m&ms. I don't even like dark chocolate that much.

*  I'm coming across as a lot more upbeat than I've been feeling lately. My back's aching and I need to see a chiropractor. I'm taking actual naps in the afternoon and feeling quite uncomfortably lazy for it.  I've been quite grumpy and impatient with H. although he's been testing limits a lot these past couple of days. I've been feeling depressed and despondant about M. even though I know damn well that nothing's changed. I'm also feeling lonely for good conversation in things nonparental. I actually rejected the offer to join in a meeting of babywearing moms at the park the other day. Such a snob am I!

*  My birthday wish:  To go to the movies in a movie theater by myself.

*  My wish for the Witches Masquerade Ball on Saturday:  To get hit on. Or, to find a beautiful pagan-y necklace for which I have the exact cash amount.

*  I am genuinely excited about Halloween and trick-or-treating with H. and R. H. is dressing up as a bat. R. is dressing up as a baby. I'm recycling the bellydancing outfit from the Masquerade (probably sans mask.)

*  I think my dad actually likes spoilers. How is that possible?!

Oct. 10th, 2008

wonder woman

Hey, that's me!

Your result for The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test...

Modern, Cool Nerd


For The Record:



A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.

A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.

A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.



You scored better than half in Nerd and Geek, earning you the title of:
Modern, Cool Nerd.





Nerds didn't use to be cool, but in the 90's that all changed. It used to be that, if you were a computer expert, you had to wear plaid or a pocket protector or suspenders or something that announced to the world that you couldn't quite fit in. Not anymore. Now, the intelligent and geeky have eked out for themselves a modicum of respect at the very least, and "geek is chic." The Modern, Cool Nerd is intelligent, knowledgable and always the person to call in a crisis (needing computer advice/an arcane bit of trivia knowledge). They are the one you want as your lifeline in Who Wants to Be a Millionaire (or the one up there, winning the million bucks)!



Congratulations!




THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

Take The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test at HelloQuizzy

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