Thirty-First - Stream of Consciousness

This is a stream of consciousness post. I am trying to write because I am on a self-appointed deadline and I want to finish my books early so I can perhaps publish them early but I don't know if it's possible. With my fiance moving in, my daughter moving back in with me, I will be heavily distracted. If James gets a job during the hours that my daughter is at school, I will perhaps have six hours to myself to create but will that be enough? I am a skilled enough typist but the problem is arisen where my mind is not as quick, not as sharp as it used to be and I wonder if I have enough brainpower to manifest a story, the poetry, the short stories, as quickly as I created the first three chapters of my novel. I am doing my best, but I am succumbing to doubt. Am I an author? Will my product be good enough? Will people buy it? What is my motivation for writing? I've wanted to be an author ever since I was little. I thrived when it was writing time. I feel blessed that I was enrolled in schools that encouraged creativity, imagination, and innovation. I hope I can achieve my dreams. I cannot imagine the joy I will feel as I publish my books. I will officially be an author when that happens. No one will be able to tell me different. I will be create my own destiny. I only wonder if I have the strength. 

Post-traumatic stress disorder and mental conditioning thrust upon me by other parties, namely my family, have crippled me. Am I intelligent? Everyone says so. Even my detractors have always told me I'm smart. It's funny how some people claim I'm manipulative and successful at getting people to do what I want, but I am also stupid. That makes no sense. It takes some sort of cunning to manipulate people, and while I know I possess some small part of it, I have no desire to manipulate people. I want people to want me - my company, my body, my friendship. If I have to manipulate them into giving that desire to me, I no longer have value for the relationship. It's really very simple. I just need to get all these racing thoughts out of my head. 

I despise bipolar disorder. I take my medications faithfully and I do my best to surround myself with peace and calm, but sometimes the manic episodes sneak in and I can't shut up my mind. I wish my novel flowed as easily as this post is flowing. But I am so self conscious about how the end product will be received that I second guess every word I write. What am I to do? I suppose I could turn to my Ativan, but I really don't want to abuse it. I just need something stronger. It is when I am like this that I fear my future. Notice how I went from declaring my destiny as my own to create to fearing my destiny as if it's out of my control. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. 

Thirtieth

It is a very curious thing to be conscious of one’s own bliss.

Time slows down and I’m aware solely of the soul-flight of rapturous delight that elevates me into hyper-awareness. Perhaps it is the stark contrast of the sheer radiance of happiness with the persistent darkness within my life that allows me to recall it so vividly. Compared to the dysphoric mania that I experience as a result of my bipolar disorder, those particular blissful moments are unadulterated euphoria.

Some people with bipolar disorder experience euphoric “highs” when they are manic. Every second is a high-energy rush and they feel they are invincible. They often engage in high-risk activities when experiencing their brand of mania – sexual promiscuity, reckless driving, gambling, etc. On the other hand, I experience dysphoric mania which is characterized by the same high levels of energy, but that energy manifests as anxiety, racing thoughts, and despair. It is physically painful to endure. My heart races, my mind won’t shut up, and I want to die.

Nine times out of ten, my bliss washes upon me because of one of three things.

The people in my life – my daughter, my lover, my friends
Reading – losing myself in a different world, a different reality
Writing – my blog, my novel, my poetry
 

Those three things are my lifelines. My escapes from a world that is usually so much darker than I perceive I can handle. At least, in my shadowed moments, I feel I cannot endure. But I always do. I am always risen again. Like a phoenix, like the Christ, like the flowers that bloom with the dawn, I always rise.

Twenty-Eighth

In the movie “The Frog Prince” from Cannon Movie Tales, the Frog places Princess Zora in front of the mirror and says, “If you look long enough, you’ll see how other people see you.” Like Zora, I have received conflicting messages from those around me for my entire life. I’ve been told I’m kind, sweet, beautiful on the inside and out by most of my peers. My family has said the same things to me, although most of the time they turn around and tell me the opposite whenever they are annoyed with me. Men have had no trouble using my body to receive pleasure although I assume they never quite found me attractive enough to want to commit.

While I have the most trouble with my body, my perception of my personality is also distorted. My bipolar disorder and my borderline personality disorder have resulted in some pretty unsavory traits. I am a bona fide attention whore, and I will go to any lengths to get it when I feel like I am not getting enough from those around me.  I am also a liar. Ironically, I rarely lie on the internet. I instead use the safety of the internet’s anonymity to reveal the distasteful truths about myself and my philosophies. However, in the “real world,” I lie so easily that I often don’t realize I was dishonest until I reflect back upon my encounters throughout the day.  I adopt new personalities so easily, I imagine that is where my identity crisis stems from. I don’t know who I am or what I believe.  Like Marina and the Diamonds says, “I’ve lived a lot of different lives,been different people many times….Got different people inside my head. I wonderwhich one that they like best?”

It is so refreshing for me to meet people with a secure understanding of who they are and where they are going. I crave those interactions with people that help me see what I desperately desire. A sense of identity. To know that it is possible for me to become Heather, to be the best person I can be without having to shift personalities so often.

Maybe, like Zora, I will someday believe that I am ravishing, scrumptious, and exquisite.

Eighteenth

It’s really difficult for me to write this. As you know, I haven’t written a post in a while, and the reason for that is I just haven’t been inspired. I don’t feel the pull of the Goddess anymore, and I’ve been increasingly judgmental of other pagans. I believe in science and I also believe in magick, but the thing is…not every weird occurrence is the result of actions by the fae or spirits or anything. When you get angry and then the wind blows, you aren’t controlling the weather. There is such a thing as coincidence. And it blows my mind that so many pagans by into the whole thing of 

“I’m sixteen, I can control the weather. I’m also empathic and I am very intuitive.” Of course you are, intuitive and empathic people are drawn to paganism.

I guess I just don’t feel comfortable in my own skin. I want to be the kind, soft-hearted person I always admire, but I’m just not. There is a lot of bitterness in my soul, and I don’t know how to be rid of it. For Manifest, I did a releasing ritual and while it helped, I think the scars on my heart are there to stay.

I am in love. The person I love is emotionally distant from me, and my encouragement and enthusiasm to make things work with him I think is driving him further away. Meanwhile I’m having money woes and work place woes and I’m trying to get on disability and I don’t have a car and I don’t know what to do. And all the while this bitterness in my heart at my own failings to function as an adult, that I have bipolar disorder, that I have borderline personality disorder, that I’m physically sick and that no one ever stays with me is breaking my heart.

A close friend recently abandoned me. She said I’ve changed. I haven’t. I think she thinks that you can only be friends with someone who likes the same things as you do. People who are exactly like you. But that would be so boring. I loved her like a sister, and she abandoned me.

It’s like that song from Phantom of the Opera, the movie, the song by Minnie Driver.

Child of the wilderness
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
Learn to find your way in darkness

Who will be there for you
Comfort and care for you
Learn to be lonely
Learn to be your one companion

Never dreamed out in the world
There are arms to hold you
You've always known your heart was on its own

So laugh in your loneliness
Child of the wilderness
Learn to be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone

Learn to be lonely
Life can be lived, life can be loved alone

Seventeenth.

“Don't you understand that we need to be childish in order to understand? Only a child sees things with perfect clarity, because it hasn't developed all those filters which prevent us from seeing things that we don't expect to see.”-Douglas Adams

So it is with heavy heart that I announce I am infertile. My polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) is so rampant. I had an ultrasound a week ago or so, and my right ovary is so overrun with cysts and you can’t see the ovary beneath them.

I have a daughter. She is almost six. So while my biological clock is no longer ticking as I approach my 26^th birthday, I am still in mourning for the future. I wanted my little one to have siblings. Granted, she will probably have some through her father. Still, I wanted to have my own family with her.

Spiritually, I am lamenting the unreliability of my menstrual cycle. As a pagan and Goddess-worshiper, I grieve for the loss of my moontime. As a woman who has a passion for women’s spirituality and women’s sexuality, I feel that the loss of a regular moontime is symbolic of my inability to regulate my life. My entire life is unpredictable. My job, my ability to make money, my future. As someone with bipolar disorder, routine can make all the difference in the world. And I seem to be fighting it.

Overall, my mood is one of heartbreak. There is one shining light in this dark place that I have found myself, but I cannot reveal it here just quite yet.

The moon is waning. I will be banishing this darkness on the new moon with a ritual bath and devastatingly thorough housecleaning and smudging. On the full moon, I will be asking the Goddess for help finding myself, my femininity, my wild woman.

At least I don’t feel that I am alone. 

Fifteenth

All day staring at the ceiling

Making friends with shadows on my wall

All night hearing voices telling me

That I should get some sleep

Because tomorrow might be good for something

Hold on

Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown

And I don't know why

But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell

I know right now you can't tell

But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see

A different side of me

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired

I know right now you don't care

But soon enough you're gonna think of me

And how I used to be

It seems that medication is a double-edged sword. The pain and confusion that comes with unmedicated mental illness is swept away with a regimen of chemicals into the brain. Unfortunately, with the symptoms also go the magic and wonder that comes with seeing the beauty in a seemingly crystal clear manic state.  Clarity is gone, hidden under the haze of medicated lethargy.

It is difficult. Creativity is stifled. I used to get awards for my writing. I used to be praised. All of my teachers in school told my parents that I would be a famous author one day. I scored a 2200 on the SAT. I am a certifiable genius. I could have joined MENSA. But every day that I pop those psychotropic drugs, the foggier my mind becomes. It is my burden. It is my curse. If I want to create and live as carefree as when I was young, I could go off of the medications. But at what cost? To lose my ability to be patient and teach my young daughter? To lose every interpersonal relationship I have? To lose the ability to work and provide for myself – an ability that is even still fought for every day with my sweat and tears?

There are no easy solutions for a bipolar person. For a pagan, it is even more painful. While we may find peace the light of the moon or with our respective deities, our spirit guides, our totem animals, our sense of duty to be good to ourselves and those things that are ours is pivotal to our spiritual development. As a Goddess worshiper, I am acutely aware of my failings as I cycle into the Mother phase of my life. I simultaneously pine for the past and my Maiden stage as I crave and hunger for the knowledge that will lead me into success as a woman in my Crone stage. There is no easy way. The sooner the bipolar pagan learns this, the better.  

When I was young, I was a wild child

Sunshine, grass stains, mud piles

Skinning my knee was a battle scar

I was afraid of monsters, but not the dark

With the dawn, I’d run so far

Exploring every secret place, every park

Today I choke and gasp for air

Seeking magick everywhere

Only duty to hold me down

I will die without a sound.

"WildChild" Copyright 2013 - Heather Rivero

**Lyrics From"Unwell" by Matchbox 20

Fourteenth

Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can't tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start
They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes
Well that's fine by me

Grounding and centering is an important part of my paganism. It is the process of meditating and making sure I’m aware of where I am, and who I am, an achieving a sense of balance in my personal energy. It is an integral part of practicing magick. If you aren’t grounded and centered, your magick will be messy and unfocused.

As someone who is bipolar meditation is a fundamental necessity. Grounding helps me focus my emotions and my mood. Often, I am able to rein in a potentially disastrous episode by simple grounding. You can ground anywhere. It may take practice, but once you have a good concept of what works for you, you can do it in the restroom at work or in a crowded shopping mall.

The method that works best for me is this:

I sit on the floor, feeling the earth beneath me. I begin to imagine roots coming down my spine and through my tailbone, growing down into the earth. If I am indoors, I visualize the roots spreading through the lower floors and foundation until they reach earth. Deeper and deeper they go, through the earth’s crust and the mantle all the way through the outer core until I reach the inner core. I grow warmer and warmer the deeper I go. When I reach the core, I pull energy from the earth up into my body. Warm, white light fills me from my fingertips to my toes. I see myself growing tall like a tree. I personally view myself as a strong oak or willow tree. I am firmly rooted in the earth. I am stable. I am ancient. When the healing energy of Gaia has helped me feel secure, I push all the excess energy back down through the roots to be returned to the Earth Mother. 

You can find a good morning grounding meditation here. 



**Lyrics from Avicii's "Wake Me Up"

Thirteenth

The basic problem with my love relationships with women is that my standards are so high - and they apply equally to both of us. I seek full-blast mutual intensity, fully fledged mutual acceptance, full-blown mutual flourishing, and fully felt peace and joy with each other. This requires a level of physical attraction, personal adoration, and moral admiration that is hard to find. –Cornel West

Relationships are hard for everyone. There has never been a couple on this planet that never fought. At least once in every relationship on earth there happens an event of malcontent. A disagreement, an accidental foregone chore, an intentionally rude behavior. It is inevitable and it is necessary. Healthy relationships are not happy relationships one hundred percent of the time. Growth cannot happen without adversity. Even baby birds have to push themselves out of the egg if they ever want a hope of surviving in the big and beautiful world that awaits them. So it is with relationships. It is by getting through the little arguments that we can build the foundations to master the greatest challenges.

As a bipolar pagan, relationships are harder than ever for me. I am currently with a mentally and physically healthy Catholic man who has never suffered from the abuses that I struggled with growing up. His family is supportive and successful and never bitter or resentful. His successes are celebrated fervently, and his sorrows are shared. Indeed, his upbringing is about as far from mine as can be expected from two middle class families.

My paganism has my head in the clouds. Even while I am grounded and rooted in spellwork or meditation, my expectations for life and the world around me are never consistently met. It is this grievance that leads me to hold on to the great love of my life. I am never completely happy and I find myself daydreaming perpetually of the love I could have had. My bipolar has me irritated nearly constantly and so I place further burden on my partner because I cannot see things rationally.

Relationships are hard. I hope to one day find that balance and bliss that I have been seeking over the lifetimes. 

Tenth

Sólo queda una vela
encendida en medio de la tarta
y se quiere consumir.

Ya se van los invitados,
tú y yo nos miramos
sin saber bien qué decir.

Nada que descubra lo que siento:
Que este día fue perfecto
y parezco tan feliz...
Nada como que hace mucho tiempo
que me cuesta sonreir.

Quiero vivir,
quiero gritar,
quiero sentir
el Universo sobre mí.
Quiero correr en libertad,
quiero encontrar mi sitio.

Una broma del destino,
una melodía acelerada
en una canción que nunca acaba.

Ya he tenido suficiente;
necesito a alguien que comprenda
que estoy sola en medio de un montón de gente.
¿Qué puedo hacer?

Quiero vivir,
quiero gritar,
quiero sentir
el Universo sobre mí.
Quiero correr en libertad,
quiero llorar de felicidad.

Quiero vivir,
quiero sentir
el Universo sobre mí,
como un náufrago en el mar.
Quiero encontrar mi sitio,
sólo encontrar mi sitio.

Todos los juguetes rotos,
todos los amantes locos,
todos los zapatos de charol.
Todas las casitas de muñecas
donde celebraba fiestas
donde sólo estaba yo.

Vuelve el espíritu olvidado
del verano del amor.

Quiero vivir,
quiero gritar,
quiero sentir
el Universo sobre mí.
Quiero correr en libertad,
quiero llorar de felicidad.

Quiero vivir,
quiero sentir
el Universo sobre mí,
como un náufrago en el mar.
Quiero encontrar mi sitio,
sólo encontrar mi sitio

I always feel best when I rise with the sun.

There is something potent in waking up to the early-morning chatter of birds and squirrels and watching the sunrise with them. The God of the Sun is eager to greet you. Helios, Apollo, Ra, Lugh. By whatever name he is there without fail every day (except for those in the extreme latitudes). He is our strength. His fire fuels our daily endeavors and all life on earth is sustained by him. It is no wonder that he was the first god to be worshipped on earth by humankind.

From a bipolar perspective, keeping a diurnal internal clock is extremely healthy. Rising and setting with the sun allows our biological forms to revert to a sense of normalcy that has been ingrained in us since the dawn of time. Many bipolar people are nocturnal, and I understand that. I myself suffer from terrible insomnia from time to time. But when we can, bipolar people often find that they have “good days” more often than not when they rise in the morning and settle down in the evening.

For me, personally, I find myself growing closer and closer with Lugh. The Celtic pantheon is where my heart lies with Cernunnos and Andraste and now Lugh. I find myself growing closer as well to the Greek pantheon, specifically Hekate. Ever since the ritual I wrote about earlier, I have felt her presence in my life ever so strongly. As the goddess of the crossroads, she is calling me as I travel through a myriad of transitions in my life.

I’m sorry I haven’t written much lately. I’ve been captivated by the novel I’m writing. I do apologize and I will try to update more often from now on.

Blessed Be.

**Lyrics from "El Universo Sobre Mi" by Amaral
*Translated lyrics -

Only one candle remains
lit in the center of the cake
and it's about to go out.

The guests are leaving,
you and I look at each other
without really knowing what to say.

Nothing that could unveil what I feel:
That this day has been perfect
and I seem so happy...
Nothing like [saying] that since a long time ago
I have to force myself to smile.

I want to live,
I want to shout,
I want to feel
the Universe over me.
I want to run free,
I want to find my place.

A trick of destiny,
a fast melody
in a never-ending song.

I have had enough;
I need someone who understands
that I'm lonely in the middle of a crowd.
What can I do?

I want to live,
I want to shout,
I want to feel
the Universe over me.
I want to run free,
I want to weep for joy.

I want to live,
I want to feel
the Universe over me,
like someone shipwrecked at sea.
I want to find my place,
just to find my place.

All the broken toys,
all the crazy lovers,
all the patent leather shoes.
All the dollhouses
where I threw parties
and there was only me.

It's returning the forgotten spirit
of the summer of love.

I want to live,
I want to shout
I want to feel
the Universe over me.
I want to run free,
I want to weep for joy.

I want to live,
I want to feel
the Universe over me,
like someone shipwrecked at sea.
I want to find my place,
just to find my place.

Eighth

Down to the earth I fell
With dripping wings,
Heavy things won't fly
And the sky might catch on fire
And burn the axis of the world
That's why
I prefer a sunless sky
To the glittering and stinging in my eye

I feel so light
This is all I wanna feel tonight
I feel so light
Tonight and the rest of my life

Depression is the sinking, slow, heavy and temporary death that every bipolar person feels. It is the shutting down, the terminating of systems. When I am depressed, I cannot think, I cannot move, and I can barely breathe. Indeed, it feels like I’m dying, even while my heart continues to beat. On the other hand is mania, and unfortunately, 99% of the time I suffer from dysphoric mania. While many bipolar individuals will tell you that the highlight of their disorder is their mania, for me mania is a nightmare. I still get the high-energy, fast-talking rush but it manifests in anger and anxiety and an inescapable need to over-analyze anything and everything I’ve said in my memory.

For me, the highlight of my bipolar disorder is my mixed state. Sometimes, like a couple of weeks ago, it manifests in a high-energy depression that is literally physically painful. However, most of the time, it manifests in a reasonable, high-energy, motivated mood that is almost reminiscent of the way euphoric mania manifests. Instead, I am grounded and down to earth. It is in these moods that I really shine.

My spirituality takes flight. My mind is open and free from the poison of depression or mania or numbness of my neutral states. I can feel the Goddess with me, and I can evoke the God whenever I wish. It is my most ardent desire to learn to master my moods so that even when the chemicals in my brain rebel against me, I can still see the magick in everything, the beauty in the most common tree in the Pacific Northwest, and breathe in the essence of life that is in everything.

Everything is waves and stars
The universe is resting in my arms

**Lyrics from "Tonight and the Rest of My Life" by Nina Gordon

Seventh

Stood out in the rain.

Let it soak me down,

Before I called you...

I called you.

You did not see me there,

Hidden by the dark,

Beneath your window,

But I saw you.

When putting on a face for the mirror on the wall.

Dreaming that the looking glass is you.

Catching my fondest gazes;

Living through my fickle phases.

I love you.

Spend my time on 'phones,

Tryin' just to talk,

But you didn't answer...

You let it ring.

Spend my nights alone,

Catching fallin' stars,

To give to you, love.

They're just for you.

Stars fall every time a lover has to face the truth.

And far too many stars have fell on me.

And as they trail the skies,

And burn their paths upon my eyes,

I cry.

And it's getting easier, each day, to weep about you.

Harder, every night, to sleep without you.

How many years must I be,

Driven by this dream of love with you?

It’s been a rough couple of weeks for me. I haven’t been able to blog much. The other day, I was finally able to cast a spell for the first time in months. It was an empowerment spell, and I called on my spirit guides and patron deities to help me find the strength to learn what I need to learn to heal myself. It was an exalted form of magick that I honestly felt profound pride in myself for having been able to cast.

Still, I don’t feel as close with my patron deities as I once did. My faith is superficial lately, and I am extremely disappointed in myself for losing sight of everything that matters to me. I could whine and blame my medications, but that’s not entirely it. I have been lazy. Lazy in that I have chosen idle pursuits and pleasures over study and dedication. Lazy in that I would rather sleep in until the last moment before I get up for work or chores instead of rising with the sun and doing a morning dedication.

I am just so tired. But it should be getting better soon. I leave for Hawaii in a month, and when I return, I’ll be continuing my employment except I’ll be working from my very own home office. I am ecstatic that my company has honored me with their trust and the privilege of not having a commute into downtown Seattle. I honestly believe the decrease in my stress will bring the magick back to me every moment of my day, instead of when I must painfully extract it from the core of my soul as I did a few days ago.

**Lyrics from "Stars" by Alison Krauss and Union Station

Sixth

And there were people there

Lovely as you'd ever care

Tonight, baby, you can start again

Laughing in the open air

Have yourself another dream

Tonight, maybe we can start again

Forgive me, this post may be a little convoluted.

I am back on my medications, and with the chemicals came the numbness. I don’t feel much by way of emotion right now. I am numb. I need to get back on the citalopram. This sertraline (Zoloft) is killing my personality. While I am on it, I have nothing but high anxiety, being void of any other genuine emotion.

I went to the pool today. No one else was there, so I floated on my back, with my ears in the water. With all sound muted, I gazed up at the sky. My arms were spread wide as I floated there, and I pondered the lightest shade of blue, and I begged the Goddess to come to me. To open my soul and my senses to the magick of life and the universe. To help me unlock my heart to marvel at the beauty of a soaring eagle, or a monarch butterfly. I meditated there, weightless and drifting in the water, for what felt like hours. Suddenly, I realized, that I had been gazing in wonder at all of the exquisite shades of green the setting sun created in the tall trees that surround the pool. I smiled.

It is always so refreshing to me to realize that although I need to be on constant vigil when on medications, when I can break through the chemical haze and truly, deeply, profoundly feel…I am, more than ever. I just am.

What else in this universe is more beautiful than simply being?

**Lyrics from "Only The Young" by Brandon Flowers

Fifth

Over rock and chain

Over sunset plain

Over trap and snare

When you're in too deep

In your wildest dream

In your made up scheme

When they knock you down

When they knock you down

Don't break character

You've got so much heart

Is this real or just a dream?

Oh Rise up like the sun

And labor till the work is 

Rise up like the sun

Labor till the work is done

This hasn’t been the greatest week for me, or month for that matter. I haven’t been able to work in the past three weeks because I’ve been so sick. I am completely broke. I haven’t made the wisest choices financially lately, and so I am probably going to be overdrafted in a few days. I need to get my shit together.

I was off of my medications for five days because I left them at my apartment while I stayed with my boyfriend for a few days. I need to stop doing that.

I haven’t been in a spiritual state of mind. I acknowledged the full moon, and greeted Her. “Hello, Lady Luna” I said. This happens when I’m off my meds. I can’t see the magick in anything. I can’t feel my spirit guides, God, Goddess, nothing. My flesh doesn’t tingle with ecstasy as I marvel at the vastness of the sky or at the perfect profiles of the trees against the open spaces.

I received a preliminary diagnosis yesterday of Multiple Sclerosis and also a tumor on my pituitary gland. I am shocked. I thought maybe my bipolar was making me be an attention whore drama queen. I was the only person who was taking my symptoms seriously. I suppose I feel validated by the diagnosis but at the same time – I am extremely worried. It is hard enough to get through the day after dealing with my bipolar disorder, but to have such a heavy physical diagnosis to deal with as well…Well. I suppose my strength will be tested.

And even though I don’t feel Her right now, I know Goddess is with me.

**Lyrics from "Be Still" by The Killers

Fourth

Some mornings I pray for evening,
For the day to be done.
Some summer days I hide away
And pray for rain to come.
It turns out hell will not be found
Within the fires below,
But in making do and muddling through
When you've nowhere else to go.

But then I remember you,
And the way you shine like truth in all you do.
And if you remembered me,
You could save me from the way I tend to be.

Some days I wake up dazed my dear,
And I don't know where I am.
I've been running now so long I'm scared
I've forgotten how to stand.
I stand alone in airport bars
And gather thoughts to think:
That if all I had was one long road
It could drive a man to drink.

Because I've said I love you so many times that the words kinda die in my mouth.
And I meant it each time with each beautiful woman but somehow it never works out.
You stood apart in my calloused heart, and you taught me and here's what I learned:
That love is about the changes you make and not just three small words.

And then I catch myself
Catching your scent on someone else
In a crowded space
And it takes me somewhere I cannot quite place.

            

There is a storm brewing tonight. The forecast called for a thunderstorm, a rare display of power and energy on this side of Washington state. The light is not quite gone, and I can see with my eyes that the clouds have gathered. Long before this moment, however, I saw and felt with my soul the prodigious energy that is waiting to be unleashed.

It is in this moment that I relate to this storm. As part of my faith and even my disorder, I have a profound relationship with nature. It is as much a part of me when I’m in my apartment as it is when I’m standing in a forest on a mountain. It immerses my soul with a wisdom I can’t quite describe. Just like the sky outside, in my soul the clouds are gathering. Deep inside of me, I am growing darker.  It is a beautiful darkness, just waiting for everything to accumulate in just the precise way it needs to in order to unleash the exquisite bursts of freedom and brilliance and light that comes with every thunderstorm. Like the booming thunder, I will burst forth and cry out in jubilation that I am free and I am loved and I am in love.

            

My patron goddess for the past year has been Andraste, the goddess of victory. I didn’t know what she had in store for me when I first met her on Imbolc of 2012. She is known as “She Who Has Not Fallen."eShe is the warrior goddess of victory, ravens, and battles. I am battle born, and I am touched by Andraste. I too, have not fallen.

As the storm gathers and the sky darkens, I see myself in that storm. The battle is not over. It has just begun. And like Andraste, I will not fall.As the storm gathers and the sky darkens, I see myself in that storm. The battle is not over. It has just begun. And like Andraste, I will not fall.

Lyrics above from "The Way I Tend to Be" by Frank Turner