Sunday, May 29, 2005

Magpies and Lawn Clippings

I'm spending coffee money in the hopes of meeting chics. It isn't turning out to be a success. Renee is dealing with grass and vacuums from last night’s show. It seems the band decided to enhance the show by emptying a few bags of lawn clippings into the crowd. It spread from the dance floor to just about every corner of the shop. Renee had spent hours cleaning it, and was just finishing up as I arrived. She was not happy.

In addition to chics, I was also after some peace and quiet. Finding neither, I left Steamers and went to the Paul Reams park. Here I was entertained by Magpies. There is a nest at the West end of the park. I counted six Magpies - two adults, two chicks, and what may have been two yearlings (I wasn't sure - they weren't quite as large as the adults and the coloring was subtly different). I spent about an hour watching the birds, being captivated by their antics. Then headed back to Steamers.

The roots of my depression have not changed in the last 25 years. What has changed is (looking for a metaphor that works here...). Think of the cause of the depression as what casts the shadow. This is still the same. What has changed is the source of the light. It used to be the expectations imposed on me by the Mormon gestalt. Now the light is cast by my own expectations. In both cases, the shadow is cast by my failure to live up to what is expected. For the last few weeks (or several weeks, if I feel like beating up on myself) I've not been living up to my expectations of myself.

"Englishmen, especially Englishmen who drink, have strict habits." - Bill Gaston in 'a Forest Path'

"You notice that very young babies move with the whole their bodies toward an object that excites their interest. Arms, legs, mouth, everything is in motion. Over time, they do not develop fine-muscle control at all but learn instead to restrain all but those the need to pick up the tiny object. The capacity is there. But with so much interference there is no freedom. And freedom after all is what's important in the subject of restraint." - 'Another Axis Within' from Parabola, XXX, 2.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Horus Chorus

I’m at the First Unitarian Church waiting for the Horus Chorus to perform.

I arrived nearly an hour early with the plan of reading and writing. Expecting to find no one here, instead I found a pair of gentlemen out front practicing their juggling - the sort with pins where you toss them back and forth. One of them look familiar and, as I approached, my suspicions were confirmed - Dylan. Such a delightful surprise.

It has been ages since I have written here - if I’m not busy, then I’m empty of motivation. Lately it has been the latter. I am quite upset with myself about that. About a week ago my motivation was drained. If there was a lead-up to it, I didn’t notice. It was as if someone planted a spigot in my ass and turned it on full flow. I have done nothing but the bare basics at work, and even less at home.

Bleh. The first ordeal marches on.

Sunday, May 15, 2005

Under the Whip

Everything under this date heading was written July 8 and July 20. Except for this paragraph, it was culled from the end of the previous entry and from random scribbles. Events were somewhere in the time frame of April and the first two weeks of May.

Around the first of May, the Thelemic Magick seminar stopped. Mark and Amber broke up and he moved out of her house. There was some noise for a few weeks about getting it going again at a new location, but that didn’t happen. I did see Mark once after this, May 15th at Gnostic Mass in Ogden, but not since then. At that time he was living in a small trailer at the KOA on North Temple, and he was in the ever-so-intimate company of a woman whose name I can’t remember, but who said I could just call her "Angel." Right. I was not impressed with Angel (but I have been wrong about such things in the past). I was also wondering about Mark. He didn’t give a lot of detail about what had happened, and I didn’t ask, but he was talking it up like it was a good and needed thing, and that he was much happier. I had my doubts - it sounded to me as if either he was talking like this in an attempt to convince himself of his own words, or as if he was ignoring a few ugly side effects that had yet to seek him out and shake him up a bit. But I dismissed all this from my mind and decided to just make use of the man...

I was at Ra Hoor Khuit Oasis for the purpose of being baptized. I had e-mailed ahead to clear it with the people in charge, but found out at the last minute that I needed two people to sponsor me. As soon as Mark showed up, I knew I had one person. I found the second in the person of a gentleman named Rick. About 10 years older than me, he had lived for awhile in Provo at the Hotel Roberts. He and I had a good talk together, and I felt comfortable with him. He was pleased to help me.

The baptism was pretty cool. I hadn’t reviewed the ritual before Mass, so I was pleasantly surprised by some bits of it. I loved the phrase "...deliver me from evil and from good...", as well as the symbolism of dipping the rose in the wine then letting the wine fall from the rose to my head.

Somewhere in this time frame I had a minor adventure with Beverly and Holly. I found myself at their place after another activity and was introduced to the game "Exclamation Poker". In this game you are dealt a hand and then come up with the word or phrase - the exclamation - that best fits the hand. The winner is not the person with the best hand, but the person who best describes his hand.

During this period of time I was also preparing for my first degree initiation in the O.T.O.. Among other things, I got the application from Sara, talked Beverly and Holly into sponsoring me, and purchased the material for my Tau robe. While She Who Spends Money in Exotic Lands was in Europe in May and June, on a few Department of Defense contracts, I made an utter mess of the living room and got the robe made. It was tiring yet satisfying work. The finished product was pretty good looking, especially for a duffer like myself.

Also in this period of time, I saw my internet habits once more interfering with my life - taking time and directing choices, so I reigned it in. I haven’t deleted and purged, but I set some rules. The rules have taken hold and, gosh and surprise, I’ve hardly looked at it since then. I am such a monkey.

I also got a notebook that will be devoted to the First Ordeal as Depression. As mentioned before, if I am pegging this wrong, at least the work won’t be wasted. At the same time, I have been able to write barely a page in the book. It seems that I am usually too busy or too tired and, and least on one occasion, too depressed.