Monday, December 17, 2007

Being Priest

To wrap up the last post - the piano is moved. Did you know that a small upright piano will (barely) fit through the side doors of a Nissan mini-van? It was amazing. Loraine has her piano, Lisa has a chance to achieve peace of mind, Liz has residence in another state (thank the gods) and Lorna has no clue. The L's are covered.

Last Saturday was gnostic mass. I was priest. I started the ritual "playing the part of priest", which is not the same as 'being priest". After entering the tomb and having needed preparations take place, I closed my eyes as one who is dead. Then I was alone for a brief instance in the temple, and I opened my eyes. Through the cloth covering the tomb I could see the candles on the fire altar, great altar and super-altar. 23 candles in all: 22 beyond the great veil and one in Tiphareth. It was gorgeous.

The ritual went well, but it was "Andy acting the role of priest", tracking the script, registering the next line or action, wondering how to perform each step for best effect for the congregation. Then it happened. A few lines into the Anthem I was wondering: Is it too fast? Too slow? Too loud? Do this? Do that? And something in my head told me: Andy - Forget about the congregation and sing the Anthem only for yourself and for your Priestess. And I did. And in that moment I became Priest. For the rest of the ritual there was no tracking, no thinking, no worrying. Lines and actions just happened, in proper sequence, all on their own. The magick was there. It was just plain freaking great.

But I have to be careful. Coming out of the ritual feeling like the king of the world, there is a temptation to interact with the world as if you are king of the world. This can be good and bad. Being willing to do my Will, with much less fretting about the world, is refreshing. But there is a danger of running roughshod over the unwashed masses - of becoming a jerk. Care must be taken to hold onto the good and manage the bad. Which leads to the next item...

Matthew Murray, Liber OZ and finding balance.

A little over a week ago, young Mr. Murray grabbed his guns and sauntered off into the headlines. The only good thing that can be said about this is that a young woman with the proper training and the proper tools put an end to his rampage after only four lives had been taken. (Only..."only" four stars snuffed out, "only" three families devastated, "only" two congregations jolted into shock, "only" a nation once again appalled and moving closer to being jaded.) About a year ago he found the O.T.O. and was accepted as a Welcomed Guest of the Ad Astra Oasis. But he was not accepted for full membership. In one of his postings, Mr. Murray mentioned meditating on Liber Oz. Great. Wonderful.

Liber Oz has been on my mind lately. Then this happens and really pushes it to the forefront of my psyche. So what about Liber Oz?

On first reading, the common reaction is to assume the rights of man apply to me. Me, me, me. And I get to get gothic on anyone who gets in my way. But then you realize...
  1. It might just apply to other people too. This means the I have no right to abridge the Will of the other, under penalty of death.
  2. It says "Man has the right..." When the word "man" is used in this way, it refers to humanity as a whole. In this light, the document becomes a polemic against abridgment of rights by church, by state, or by foreign powers. Can you say, "American Revolution"?
  3. "Will" is not the same as "want". (Not to be explained here.)
  4. "thou hast no right but to do thy will. Do that and no other shall say nay." Look at this one closely. What is says is this: If it is your "will" (not want, but will in the largest sense), then you have every right to do it. But - it is the only thing that you have this sort of right to. "Want" has no place in this document, or in the true rights of man. I know I explain it poorly. But it makes sense to me, and that is all that matters.
  5. "Man has the right to kill..." Ouch. This is what raises hackles and makes murderers of people who JUST DON'T GET IT. Having a right doesn't oblige you to exercise it. Having a right does not allow you to abridge the rights of others. And - most important - THINKING that you have a right does not make it so. Pity the fool who is so short on imagination and resource that he feels the need to resort to violence. Pity the fool who is so short on understanding that he dismisses the rights of others. When, and only when, the rights being abridged prevent the Great Work - When, and only when, all other options have been exhausted - then is the Mage allowed to consider the option of violence. And even then, wisdom often says "no" and the universe opens another way.

End of rant.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

Brought to you by the letter "L"

Lorna, Loraine, Lisa, Liz.

Listed in order of appearance in my life.

Lorna - Met her at a few PUC (Pagan Utah Cooperative) events. 12 years my junior. A work in progress.

Loraine - Utah valley pagan. Held the "Art of Understanding" meetings. Don't really know her that well.

Lisa - The not-girlfriend. Met her at work. Carpooled. Turned into something more than a carpool. I love her, but it is a love full of pain.

Liz - A 26 year old ship that crossed the wake of a 42 year old man. Things happened. There was pleasure. There was pain. There were lessons learned.

Each of these women was met in a TOTALLY SEPARATE VENUE and at a totally separate time. And yet.....

Liz introduced me to her friend Art. Art was a musician. Art died in an automobile accident.

Loraine was also a friend of Art. After Art died, she bought his piano from the family. Then she moved, and didn't have room for it. So, through her fiance Matt, she found a place to keep it. In the home of the mother of Matt's friend, Drew. But Drew doesn't go by the name Drew - he likes to be called Lotus.

Lisa didn't want a freaking piano. But her son Drew dumped it on her anyway. Darn.

Now I am moving the piano back to Loraine's storage unit.

Matt, before he met Loraine, was engaged to marry Lorna. As you might guess, it didn't work out.

This all goes to show that Utah County is just to damned small.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Checking in with Warren Jeffs

Long time no post.

For starters, I am creating a separate blog for the Body Master portion of my life. This will begin life in the Wordpress blog on the family web site - [ed. - the masters blog is now defunct] As I get the web site fleshed out, and as I get the new Horus site up and going, the URL and such will change. For now the Body Master blog will also be my experiment in figuring out all things Wordpress.

My older sister made a comment to my mother recently, and it filtered back to me. She said that, except for the sex part, I was living a good polygamist lifestyle. I laughed. Taking that and running with it, I'll now update my life based on the women I am putting my energies into. They will be dealt with in alphabetical order.

Holly and Beverly
The girls did not-Gnostic Mass last night, with me as Deacon. It was good to spend time with them. It was good to feel that Mass energy again.

After mass I surprised myself by having a typical monkey reaction to a small event. Dylan and Holly sat next to each other, front to back, and did the hug-you hold-you thing. I do believe a bolt of jealousy struck my soul. I acknowledged the jealousy, gave it the honor it was due, then released it by confessing to it. But it still surprised me.

We are getting back into the swing of routine, not the least of which is working on The Eternal Kitchen Project. In the last few weeks enough was done that I may have to drop a word and just call it The Kitchen Project. It was with great gusto that I drilled holes in the pure pristine wall so we could mount the shelf supports.

Nothing much to report here. She is all about school and arranging repairs and improvements on the house. This leaves little time and energy to spend on other things, so there isn't much to report. This is as it should be. But there was some hinting of a car needing to be delivered to Glendale. Maybe I could hitch a ride and say hello?

She has a couple of good job prospects in the works. The least attractive of them all is still better than what she is doing now. Unisys really needs to buy a clue. If they aren't making money on Dell warranty work - and I know how much Dell is paying them for each call - then there is something massively wrong in the overhead. So, like any good corporation, then try to solve the problem by investing in more overhead and squeeze the difference from the people who do the real work.

Ouch. My back, my legs, my feet. Hurts so good. Three cheers for structural integration. But she and I seem to be growing apart as friends. We need to reconnect. I was going to make a stab at it this weekend, but there is just too much to do here in Provo.

I did try calling and talking to her, but she was busy. She would call me 'right back'. Not likely. Maybe trying to reconnect would be a waste of effort. But I'll try anyway.

She's presenting a paper in New Mexico in January. Wow. I'm stunned. I asked her a bit about it. I forget most of what she told me, but I remember vividly her enthusiasm as she spoke. Wow.

She is still having a hard time interfacing with the universe. But nightly check-in seems to be helping. She got a really nice edition of the Egyptian Book of the Dead as an early birthday gift from some friends. She let me actually hold it and look at it.

Did I leave anyone out? Probably.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Call me "Master Wombat"

Yesterday was the member's meeting of Horus Oasis. The reigns were passed, and I am now acting body master of Horus Oasis. It was a good meeting. I think this is going to work.

More later. Tonight is all about cleaning up my messes and getting my head back together.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Getting things done

I'm a task list junkie. Like any good Capricorn, I build TO DO lists that are long, complex, ordered, dated, subdivided, etc. Once they are made, I brood over them, I care for them and feed them, I review and revise and play and prune and fertilize and rearrange. But god forbid that I actually DO anything on any of the lists. No - we can't have any of THAT (says the Wombat through clenched teeth, the irony leaking like drool from one corner of the mouth). And, to this end, I downloaded a marvelous little program called TaskFreak . Just what I need - another way to make lists. Another place for them to die and become entombed. But then I ran across a reference in the programmer's notes to GTD - Getting Things Done - a book and philosophy by David Allen. I was sort of curious, so I looked into it. But I am also a cynic, so I expected little from it.

I was wrong.

Loath as I am to praise anything on this planet, let alone something that might inhabit the same realm as Steven Covey or Hyrum Smith (of Franklin Planner fame), this turned my head. Within the first chapter I was hooked. I haven't finished the book yet, but I have already put some of it into practice at work (and to a lesser extent at home). It is paying dividends. I will, as is my habit, take the second week of January off work for the annual Existential Angst Tour, but it will not be a road trip. Instead, I am going to turn this horrible mess that is my life (living space, projects, desires, etc.) into one big freaking In Basket and allow Mr. Allen to guide me through the ordeal of processing it.

So there.

(And while I'm at it, I'll have to actually buy the damned book so the man gets the royalty payment he is due - or maybe I'll just send him a check.)

I finally finished the Collected Works of Aleister Crowley. It was an experience like most magick - boring, boring, boring, ugh ...then you find a small gem that you tell yourself made the rest of it worth the effort. There were one or two passages of poetry that were good. The rest was turgid. But what really shone was the one or two essays that made it into the volumes. It was nice to end the ordeal with the Epilogue and Dedication at the end of volume three. Here it is if you want to read it.

Another book recently completed is The Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman. I read it because of an idea in the book that a friend relayed to me. But then I never found that idea in the book. (Was I just not paying attention?) The book struck me as cliche, as having big things happen in small spaces (not in a good way), and requiring too much suspension of disbelief. And yet, at the same time, it is pretty good. The cliche may not have been true when the book was written, and this book may be what made it cliche - an odd evidence of success. And the author may not have been able to say what needed saying without the other sins listed above, so I will give him a pass. So, in short, I would recommend the book. There is much to be learned, the chief idea being this - Stop worrying.Why? Because it really doesn't matter. (Or to quote Rex Gardner, "In fifty years, who will care?")

Playing with people as energy continues - with mixed results. I'm handling Lisa well, but I think she is seeing me as aloof and and angry when I am not. In fact I once had to convince her, with some effort, that I was not angry with her on some trivial point or another. The other side of that was when I was helping to find something that had dropped under the seat of her car. She remarked rather snippishly that she was getting cold from the other car door being open. I closed it then stood in front of the car for a moment, looking at the sunrise (mostly) and reminding myself not to react to her sniping. When I got back in the car she made a point of thanking me for at least trying to help - implying an apology for her behavior.

I cut my hair about a week ago. I was just tired of it. I needed a change. But then a few funny things happened. First, I caught myself in in odd behavior. At least twice I encountered a person and assumed some thought or reaction on their part based on their presumed perception of me as the long-haired hippy. Then I remembered that I had no hair. Oops. I learned that I was engaging in "bad ego" and that my hair was a large part of this. I was - gasp - normal. I am now, much to my horror, normal - nothing special - just another bloke. It is really hurting. This contrasts to what happened when I had to drive a rental car for a week when the Hippy Flower Painted car was in the shop. I was suddenly anonymous - I could drive like an asshole and no one would remember me the next day. Freedom!

Odd contradictions.

But then the universe tests my resolve by tossing a few Kat grenades at me. About a month ago, I got a heads up that our debt load had spiraled and that action needed to be taken. A week ago the tally came in at $12,000 - and that was accumulated in less than one year. But to make it worse, Kat now tells me that her car needs $2500 in repairs. I ran the numbers and learned that we are backed into a corner - getting rid of the car and replacing it is dead even the same cost as just swallowing hard and pouring more money into it. Of course this wouldn't be an issue if she had purchased a REAL car (Toyota) instead of a TURD ON WHEELS (Suzuki). So I resolved to dig out of it by the end of 2008. In round terms, 14 months to pay of 14 grand. In order to do this, I get to sell off my stock (there goes the money I was going to use to replace may car), give up my bonuses (again - I gave it up this year too, for the fat lot of good it did), and any chance to chase any of my small dreams this year - again (and again, and again, and again).

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Up periscope

Too damn busy to make a meaningful entry. Mostly "good busy", so no whining allowed. Maybe I'll do a brain dump this weekend. In the mean time...

Some friends are back in town.
Lisa is re-arranging my anatomy (Structural Integration).
Kathleen is - finally - jumping from the sinking ship that is her current employer and getting a new job.
My job is getting interesting.
Green tomato relish.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Just call me 'Master'

Before I get to the main focus of this post, a few minor points.

I played a bit with two concepts this last week: 1) Treating my interactions with people as dealing with energy emanations and 2) dismissing expectations in dealing with others. In a way, these two point the same direction. The results were interesting.

Thursday I showed up at Lisa's to deal with trees and dishwashers (only got around to the trees). She wasn't there. Surprise [deadpan]. I found out later that she was at school waiting out a few people to get her grade in a 'problem class'. She forgot to call and tell me what was up. Another surprise [want some droll with your deadpan?]. BUT.....I wasn't dealing with a person, I was dealing with a bundle of energy. As soon as I reminded myself of that, I recalled what this particular bundle of energy was composed of, and it all made sense. All was cool - I dealt with it.

From another angle, this all seems to be an exercise in not personalizing things that have nothing to do with you. "Don't take everything so personal." But I digress.

For my trouble, I filled the trailer with tree clippings and got a pretty good massage.

And now, in the center ring, we have.... The new (in a few days) body master of the Horus Oasis (or at least the acting body master...something to do with not having died yet). The short version of why I was NOT wanting to accept the job is...
- Too damn busy.
- Fear of failure (I have past history on this, darnit).
- Disgust with some people and things in the local O.T.O. (I said "local", OK?).
- I was getting ready to leave it behind and focus on personal work and magick.

But here is why I said "Yes".

Gnostic Mass. This is my best option for participating in Mass, especially as an officer. There were other options out there, sort of brewing (a few folk in Salt Lake who have it in mind to do Mass outside the umbrella of the O.T.O., sort of like the Thelemista group out in the bay area). But that is all vaporware at this point, and there is nothing to keep me from doing both the official and rogue activities.

Development opportunity. It will be a challenge, I will have to learn and do new things. It will (if I pull it off) equip me with skills that will serve me well in other parts of my life.

Paying back what I have received. I lot of people went to a lot of effort to pull me through my first few initiations (both formal and informal). We have a few Minervals that deserve the same, and this is my chance to pay it forward.

And, of course, the fact that I just can't say no. Sort of. Just kidding. Sort of.

But I have my reservations. The only one that deserves mention is that some people have it in their head that I'll just have to get that pesky third degree initiation out of the way so I can be a real body master, not just a bloke acting like a body master. "So let me check my calendar. How does the next equinox sound?" Blech. Initiations should happen when the initiate is ready, not on an external timetable. I feel like someone is trying to shove something down my throat. The other side of that is that, left to myself, I tend to let things drag out far to long. This may push me out of my rut. But if it does, how do I know if the time wasn't really right? What are the consequences?

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Acting lessons

Short version:
Call from local O.T.O. official. Wants me to take over as acting master of local body.

Initial reaction:
Crap, crap, crap and double crap.

Longer version to follow.

Monday, October 01, 2007

Still thinking

Musings first....

So I've had the "doing by non-action" of the Tao rolling around in my head. Rolling with it are some of the other pairings of thought posted recently. In this state of mind, while reading from Magick Without Tears, I run across definitions...

"To fill the mind entirely with one thing, to the exclusion of all else: This is Magick."

"To empty the mind of all: This is Yoga."

(I paraphrase.)

I didn't read any further (mostly due to external circumstance). But it all fit together. There was this little collision where I thought, "But in the O.T.O. system of MAGICK, the first instruction and practice is YOGA." And before the dust had time to clear, I understood. The mind cannot be fully filled with one thing, until it is FIRST emptied of all that is not the one thing. Yoga is the door to Magick. Didn't I write in one of my journals years ago about the need to banish before one can invoke? And also of the futility of a banishing that isn't followed by an invocation?

Musings are done, now the Monkey Politics

The angst of a few weeks ago has mostly either subsided or transformed. In the case of Lorna, after realizing that I needed to polity tell her that she needed to either go away or bring something to the exchange of energies, she managed to go away.

With the grrls in Salt Lake (the one where I have no freaking idea what to do), I had to cancel a last session before they went out of town, and now I have until mid-October to stew over it. This is a relationship I want to keep (duh), but some of the dynamics need to change. I've known this for a while, and I've also known that much of it has to do with me, and a little with them. Alas, even small change can sometimes be large.

As for The Woman in Tooele......
I reverted to the position that Kate tried to convert me to some years ago. Expect nothing, then you can't be disappointed. On my last visit, I did just that. And it turned out pretty good. Externally, it was a little better than normal, only in that Lisa was a little more communicative about some things. (How much of that originated with her, and how much was allowed by my change of mood and response?) Internally, it honestly did the trick. This even extended beyond the human interaction thing down to wrestling with the dishwasher. Instead of being a 2 hour 20 dollar job, it ballooned into a 5 hour 35 dollar job. But having flushed the expectations or desires to do other things on the list, it was just cool beans.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Court Report

In the case of the State of Utah vs. David A Rendon, on September 24, 2007 the court imposed the maximum fine for each of two misdemeanor counts of 1 year in jail. This is for two counts of sexual assault against a minor, originally filed as felonies, and reduced in a plea bargain agreement. The prison terms are to be served consecutively and credit is not being given for time served on other unrelated convictions.

Mr. Rendon was extradited from Colorado to Utah to face charges in an unrelated felony case. After Mr. Rendon completes serving any sentences imposed by the Utah courts, he will return to Colorado to serve two years remaining on previous convictions there.

Known in the local pagan community by the name David Medicine Eagle, David is best known for his association with the now defunct shop Mystic Dragon once located on 11th east in the heart of the Sugarhouse district.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Musings - Hold your fire (with apologies to RUSH)

While engaged in aerobic thinking (combining chores with philosophy) I returned to an old idea that instead of dealing with things and people as if they are “things and people”, deal with them as if they are emanations of energy. Then handle the energy as it comes in (reflect, absorb, shape, reshape, deflect) then act or interact by sending out a measure of energy.

That which acts or reacts originates from thought – from the mind – from electrical impulses – from fire.

All things are fire. All interactions are exchanges of energy.

Fire is not a thing. Fire is a release of energy.

Energy is released when molecules come apart then recombine. Fire IS change. Fire IS shaping, reshaping, recombining. To exist, fire requires fuel and fire.

Hold your fire.

[A two hour break goes in here, ending with...]

...a short phone call to Kate. She asks if I am doing anything to celebrate the equinox today. Then she talks of it being a time of balance – an equal of light and dark. I respond that while all is in balance, it is also when the change in daylight, day to day, is at it highest.

Maximum balance implies maximum change. Change is fire.

The Tao teaches that in non-doing are the greatest changes made. Only in perfect balance is there perfect fire.

Do not lust of results. Simply know that the results ARE.

Hold your fire. Hold it deep inside.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Chewing on it

I spent much of the day mulling over the events for the last week, my reactions and emotions, and what to do about it all. Nothing to report yet. The process of writing it out has caused mild surprises and consternations. I am not done. It may take a few more days. It may take all week. It may provide more - and larger - surprises.

Or not.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Is it worth it?

It wasn't a pleasant night. I only got about four hours of sleep, in two short shifts. All from trouble having to do with a friend. None of it is her fault, none of it is her doing, but trouble just has a way of finding that woman, and too much of it splashes onto me.

So here is the dilemma: How much of this should I own? Do I walk away from the friendship saying it is just too much? Do I hold my nose and jump into up to my ass? Do I attempt a middle course, choosing where my limits are and not going beyond them?

If I walk away, and if the other person in the drama gets angry or gets buried in trouble, I stand to get stuck with a some larger burdens that I don't want to own. If I jump into it up to my naughty bits (or higher), then this phrase comes to mind: "I'm living with your problems, I might as well move in and live with you." This is NOT a productive and healthy course of thought. Finally, past experience shows that drawing lines just doesn't work. I draw lines only to get sucked past them.

My current mood is to just bail out of the friendship and do my best to protect my financial interests. If I take that route, I am likely to do it in a systemic manner: Make a list of people that are current or recent drags on my life and politely request that they lose my numbers, my addresses, my name and my face. How many friends do I have left if I do this? Only three that I can think of, and two are people I haven't spoken to in years. (As an odd note, they are all three connected in one way or another to the Phoenix area. Maybe when I burn my bridges I will have to move south.)

I am bitter and angry. I will likely soften my attitude. But then again, I may not. Or I may think it through and find a softer way to do it.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

In other news

I took the morning off yesterday to attend court. A sentencing hearing. Four hours of boredom just to have The Creep called next to last, then the hearing continued two weeks because the prosecution and the public defender were looking at different sets of paperwork. The final indignity being the 8 bucks for parking. My consolation is that during the next two weeks, I get to live my life: The Creep gets to stay in jail (something about skipping out, a 40,000 warrant, and no friends in the state). On the other hand, I enjoyed watching Judge Skanchy do his job. It reminded my a bit of my father when he was on the bench. The day was a mixed pleasure.

I am in new digs at work. Downstairs with IS and plenty of elbow room. I also have two 19 inch LCD monitors. I set them up portrait mode and it is proving to be quite the trip. But it brought out an interesting program bug. I set one of my programs to open on the secondary monitor. No problem. But when I would try to open a child window from it, the program froze. I didn't see the connection between the problem and the location. So a rebuilt data, reinstalled, manually cleared the registry and reinstalled, etc. I finally figured out the link to moving it, and pushed it back to the primary monitor. Interesting, but an hour of work lost.

Mindy spent the day being a greeter at WalMart. I'm not sure how I feel about that. She is visiting this weekend and plans to go to Salt Lake and get a tattoo. I'm not sure how I feel about THAT. Gotta love it when the children are adults and you just have to smile and make agreeable noises. At least she hasn't seen fit to bless my with a grandchild.

The pumpkin patch is on a quest for world domination. One of the vines slipped over the fence and there is a 12 inch diameter orb suspended over the neighbor's yard. I think I'll point it out to them and tell them they can have it if they want. Lisa got the last good cob of corn - and it was a beauty. I am about to turn into a squash, I have cooked, eaten and frozen enough of it. And we'll see if the late tomato patch has time to produce before the snow flies.

Life is good. Crazy, but good.

Finally, it is the second day in a row I have worked out and spent my time doing Wombat things instead of Other People things. If it goes well, my next post may speak of the return of Thelema to my life.

This is NOT what I asked for

Read from my previous post. "I want my life back."

The Universe took it as a challenge. What followed was an entire week of running my ass off doing everything for everyone except The Wombat. Yes - it really was that bad. The largest time and energy sink was moving Lisa to Tooele. But we did it. It took three trips with the moving truck (and the entire Labor Day weekend), a few odd days here and there, then all day last Saturday. But it is all done except for a few minor odds or ends at the old house - just a few things I need to salvage for myself.

Near the beginning of this, I offered the use of my trailer - a Harbor Freight 4 by 8 foot. Cheap, but wonderful. Pulled by a 1995 Camry (4 banger). It is a pretty sweet setup for someone of my ilk. I can do anything I used to do with my old station wagon (and before that the venerable Ford Courier), and still get over 30 MPG on the highway.

But my offer was laughed at. She referred to it, with disdain, as my "Micro-Trailer".

Never criticize the size of a man's tool.

Undaunted, I just showed up with the damned thing and proceeded to pack it up and drag it around. By the end of the move she confessed amazement at what I was able to do with it. (Just hope I don't get reported for my abuse of the dumpster at work. ...and then there is the matter of the razor wire...).

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Playing Chicken (Pox) with The Universe

Many years ago I became ill with the Chicken Pox. I was 27 years old at the time. Chicken Pox is not kind to adults. The discomfort, pain and itching became worse and worse. The level of misery increased. I often thought it could get no worse...and then it got worse. This continued until one day when I reached a breaking point. And all of a sudden the whole thing became...


Funny as hell. Delightful beyond repair. My friends thought I had slipped a cog and were ready to ship me off to the funny farm.

I feel like I'm hitting a similar point in my life. Today, as in past several days, I lived entirely for other people. The only time I took for myself was to post my two entries to this blog. Every other moment either belonged to 'The Man' or was spent helping (or trying to help) other people. Every day in the last week that wasn't spent for other people was spent just trying to keep up with the housekeeping side of life (laundry, cat box, car repair, etc.)

I want my life back.

The pressure has been mounting to run away from it all; to tell all of 'them' that I will no longer be of service. But the other side of my head sees it getting worse and worse and wonders, will there be a breaking point where the burden will turn around on itself and transform into a delight?

They are watching me...

The Universe is watching me. I have known this for a long time. Once in a while The Universe sends me a message to let me know I am still on The List.

I was at the Tooele House last night (long story) and had wasted some time trying to figure out how to turn on the sprinkler system. I finally found the control box and concluded the manual override was missing (or just too hard to decode). But the grass is green, so it must be working.

Fast forward to a few hours later. It is dark. I am on the side porch and reach for the light switch to illuminate the driveway. At the precise moment my finger touches the switch, the sprinklers turn on. Have you ever noticed that the sound of air being pushed out of a newly activated sprinkler sounds just like an electrical circuit shorting out?

Message received.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Tied down

I just signed my life away, buying a house in Tooele. It is Lisa's money buying the house, but my name on all of the paperwork. It was torture to get here, and now that it is done I feel untethered - as if I am floating. Not in a good way. Like I am no longer anchored, and any wind that blows will set my course, not my will.

This experience - selecting the house, applying for and playing with loans, etc. has pointed out to me a problem in my life. I am too tethered to people and things. If I see a direction I want to go in my life, I can't act on it because of what I am tied to. I have chosen security, comfort and responsibility at the price of freedom. This needs the change. Wait...rephrase (need? but if I leave it alone I am still safe and secure and miserable). I want it to change. It is my Will to change. It is an exercise for later to figure the details.

In smaller matters, I am bogged down in projects that sap my energy and rob me of my time. Some are needed, some are 'owed' to people, some are useless obsessions. Some projects - either good or bad for me - are being handled badly. Usually by trying to do them piecemeal, fitting them around the corners of other things. Is this good? Should I take more of an all or nothing approach, diving with all energy into a thing, ignoring all else, until it is done? Does this also imply just dropping some other things as having no worth (or just not being able to fit into the schedule)?

"Some projects take 2 minutes, and some projects take 70 years. Take your pick. What is your Will?" - Dylan

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Another stray woman for my collection

I have a bad habit of collecting strays.

Not cats.
Not dogs.


(Someday I may write the back story on this - in fact it may be good for my psyche to do it. But not now.)

I was walking back from Kat's house when I saw a police car up the block. A young woman had been pulled over. She was removing her possessions from her car while a tow truck was getting ready to hook it. I guessed it was being impounded. It was a half block away, so I didn't get a good look at the woman's face, but her clothing and build caused me to assume she was a 19 to 22 year old hottie.

I shuddered.

I knew she needed a ride, I knew I could help, but every time I step up to help - even for simple things like this - it reaches back and bites me in butt. So many times I have had some simple act like this lead to a long term friendship where the exchange of energies has been far out of balance. I'm just a magnet for energy vampires. So I almost walked back in the house to ignore it.


I walked over to her. As I approached I could see her face and the finer details and saw she was closer to my age, maybe a little older (but still a hottie). I offered her a ride and she accepted gratefully. She lived all of 1 mile away. It was a good deal. I felt good for helping, she felt good for the offer, we agreed that no good deed goes unpunished, and we agreed on the existence of "The Fuckup Fairy." I dropped her off, helped carry her stuff to the door. We exchanged names (Tina) and a hug. End of story.

But how did I get to this position, where such a simple act fills me with such trepidation and foreboding? There is something massively wrong with this, and I need to find a way around it.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Farewell to Holly's mom

Holly's mother died last Sunday. But she died well. My only regret is that, after having heard some admirable things about her, I didn't meet her before she was gone.

About a month ago, mom was admitted to the hospital after suffering a seizure. After fending off the the medical community (after WAY too much sedation, they wanted to implant a pacemaker based on a pressured consent from family, not informed consent by mom), she went home to recover. Instead of just laying back and expecting to get better, mom took responsibility for her recovery. She set goals for time out of bed, for mild exercise, and for slowly resuming housework. She didn't over-stretch - family was there to help, and mom only took on a little of the work as she was able. But she did, thank goodness, take on what she could.

But there was some question of her heart, and if a pacemaker really was needed. The compromise was to get a monitor and see what the record recommended.

On Sunday evening, mom was up and about. She was on her feet. She helped with the cooking and dishes. She was talking and coherent. She felt valued and useful. She was happy. Early in the evening, she lay down for a nap. A short time later when family checked in on her, she was gone.

"Term of all that liveth, whose name is inscrutable. Be favorable unto us in thine hour." I hope, in my time, to find as much favor.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Back from the shadows

[Notes: At the time this was posted, it was the first entry made to this blog in nearly two years. There are more 'recent' entries that were pulled from my journals and used to backfill this two year period they are marked as such.

In April of 2010 I revised the blog. Contrary to what it says below, much content has been pulled. Anything that will piss off my friends, ex-friends, and sensitive souls is now hidden behind security on my LiveJournal site. So there.]

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.

Like all good things, I managed to let my journals - and this blog - fade into the background. It is now time to pull them back into the light. My thanks to Kate for prodding me into taking this step.

But be warned - this time its going to be a bit raw. The old posts were edited and prettied up, always with the knowledge that people I know would be reading them. This time there will be much less of that. What there WILL be is more of the raw musing and emotion that is swirling around my psyche. I am sorting out a few things in life and this blog is going to be tool for doing it. Things may get ugly.


Another warning.... In conversation with my friends I often withhold things about other friends. Why? Because nearly all of my friends are women, and I have varying degrees of involvement with these women. (Mostly just emotional or monetary involvement - you would be amazed how little sex physical involvement there is in my life.) Women tend to get jealous. I tend to smile and keep my mouth shut. Few of them really know all of what is happening in my life. So, if you are one of those women and don't want to get hurt, go away now. (Did I mention that there are Mormon polygamists among my ancestors?)

You have been warned.

- break -

I'll take up where I left off with my last entry of two years ago. The O.T.O.. About a month ago I took my second degree with the O.T.O.. This time there was another candidate being initiated, Frater Russ. He's a good kid, but.....

Sorer's Beverly and Holly have observed that the initiations of the O.T.O. change people. They will either turn you into a 'really cool person' or they will turn you into an asshole. So far Frater Russ has looked like one of the cool people. But recent events show signs of him leaning in the anal direction. I'll observe and hope I am unduly alarmed.

And the parting bit of angst for the weekend is that I've gone on the wagon. I'm going dry. I didn't like what alcohol was doing in my life, so I am leaving it alone for a season. We aren't talking about dancing the twelve step here, but I do need to step away from it and live with different vices for a while. (Hmmmm...... No booze. No sex. Smoking makes me puke. What vices are there? I am willing to take suggestions.)

Love is the law, love under will.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Second Degree Jam Sandwich

[Backfill: Posted 5-6-2008 from an offline journal entry.]

It is 5:00 in the evening. One week ago to this hour I was undergoing my second degree O.T.O. initiation. This is my first chance to write, and only because Lisa is late for our appointment.

If I ignore all else and tell only one story from the last week, I think it will suffice and will sum it all up. On Sunday I purchased a jar of strawberry jam. Monday morning I wanted to make a PBJ sandwich to take to work. I took out the jar of jam and tried to open it. It was too tight. So I twisted harder, then harder still. Nothing. I tapped the rim of the lid with a knife blade to loosen it. Nothing. I turned the knife around and whacked it harder with the handle. Still nothing. I turned the jar upside down and whacked the bottom. Nothing. I got out the rubber helper and twisted for all I was worth. Not a damned thing - not budging. So I turned my attention to the utensils drawer to look for another tool to assault the lid with.

I heard a sudden pop, then a clank, and looked to see the lid, no longer attached to the bottle, laying askew along the top of the bottle - like a beret worn at an angle by a stylish rogue.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Depression calling

[Backfill: Posted 5-6-2008 from an offline journal entry.]

About a month ago I entered a state of depression. This followed a period several weeks long of being and feeling neutral. At first I judged that the depression was going to last a week or two and run its course without any focused or sustained action. But instead it got slowly worse. Today I realized that action was needed and determined to take that action.

What brought it to a head today was no longer being able to endure staying at work, due to a combination of the depression and fatigue. So I left work two hours early. On the drive home I decided to take a two hour nap to address the fatigue, then set a course of action for dealing with the depression.