Huzzah, Thelemistas!!!!!!!!

Last night I attended Gnostic Mass with the Thelemistas. It was good.

I will first have to confess that, two years ago, when I was here with Holly and Beverly, they led us nearly to the doorstep of the Thelemista temple. I found myself walking the same walk we had walked then. This time I had an address and knew what time to show up.

I was greeted at the door by none other than Elton, the gentleman who hosted a visit from me and the girls in 2007. After a brief reminder, he remembered me and the visit. He was wearing moose antlers (the same type worn by Lisa's dog Booger) and wished us all a Merry Moosemass. I replied by recounting to him the Moose Jokes.

Pretty close to the scheduled time, Mass began. From the first moment it was an experience to remember. The energy was greater and different from the typical Horus mass. The deacon started the ritual with the voice of enthusiasm. The priestess then ramped it up a few notches by dancing during her circumambulations of the temple. And so the ritual progressed. I was bothered a bit by the way most lines of the mass were spoken too fast, almost seeming that they were being gotten out of the way as a bother or impediment. But to slow it down and hang on the words with too much weight would be to fall into the fault of Horusm where Mass is sometimes almost somber. I want to find the best place between these two places.

But the many good points outweighed the few faults I found. The operative word is this: We "celebrate" Gnostic Mass. Horus needs to turn Gnostic Mass into a celebration. Finally, for whatever I may find strange about the energy or events of the evening, I remind myself that a few of the people there knew Grady McMurty and Bill Heidrick who, as faulted as they may have been, were the vehicles that carried the modern O.T.O. to its revival.

Specific points:

• Instead of a banishing, we all joined in a circle and intoned... Aum, aum, aum.
• When the priestess circumambulated the temple, it was a very energetic dance, with a fast drum beat and much happy movement.
• The anthem was sung by the priest, but with a melody I didn't recognize. While the melody itself wasn't rock-n-roll, the priest sang it that way.
• As each person finished communicating, there was a loud cheer of 'Oh Yes, Oh yes!' or 'Huzzah' from the congregation.
• Most communicants also followed up with hugging the priestess, priest and deacon in turn.
• There was only one wine goblet we all shared. On the one hand, this makes for a generous helping of wine. On the other hand, it is good way to spread my cold.
• Drums, tambourines, etc. Used with enthusiasm during both circumambulations and again while communicating. When the communicant turned to declare, 'There is no part of me that is not of the gods', the drumming would go dead silent. It was a good effect.

Given time and effort I could expand the list. The only thing to add is that I was instantly made to feel welcome and that feeling lasted all evening.

Other notes....
This was my first time using BART. Like all such public systems, it presents an inscrutable rubric to the new user. But once a few basic routines are learned, it becomes easy and graceful. Except for the guy announcing stops on the last train. He sounded like he was talking with an anesthetized tongue into a microphone buried in electrified Jello.

Getting it into gear

This is the day I catch up on my writing. The entries of the past few days were finished this morning as I listen to NPR out on the back porch.

I was up at a decent hour today, well before the sun. Listening to my knee, I dressed for exercise and took a brisk walk around Lake Merritt. While my knee reserved comment, my lower back tells me I exercised well enough, and not to push myself any further. So walking will be my daily exercise. I find that the pace of walking works well for chanting a mantra inside my head.

Now that I am exercised and bathed, what the hell am I actually going to do with myself? What am I going to accomplish? How am I going to do it? And bloody when am I going to start?

[Later in the day, after thinking and eating and a short trip to the store.]
In response to the questions posed above, I did what a Capricorn knows to do. I made a list. Then I pulled out the kitchen timer and got to work getting these journal entries posted. I will not bore you with the list - at least not now. Instead, I will update you with progress as it is made, pretending that you already know what I am up to. I also see myself posting to the blog ad hoc rather than one tidy post per day.

[6:15 PM - Daily Practice]
I finally got around to meditating for the first time on this trip. To meditate is to sit. Melinda has no chairs in the apartment. For the computer desk she has an ergonomic chair like structure that has you distributing weight between knees and butt. There is the bed, with a mattress that is slowly destroying my hips when I sleep, and is no good for sitting. There is a futon, low to the ground, that looked like my best bet for sitting. Bad choice. It was fitful meditation, changing positions often, and finally giving up. I spent the rest of my allotted time testing other places to meditate. I think the computer 'chair' will be my best option. If not, I may be found sitting - pants up, thank you - on closed lid if the toilet. So I will call tonight's meditation a bust for effect, but an educational experience.

Wasted days

Either this was a wasted day or it was a day of recovery. It depends on how I choose to view it.

Sleeping in, but being full of vim and vigor, I went out running about 9:00 AM. After I returned, I learned that the distance around Lake Merritt is about three miles. I jogged most of it. It felt good, but it was a mistake. Later in the day my knee informed me that I would not be running any more. After a bath, I succumbed to the lack of sleep suffered during the journey and slipped into bed for a nap. After the nap I would get busy with all the wonderful things I was going to accomplish these few weeks.

Again, I disappointed myself. I made some needed phone calls, puttered around, read a bit, then slipped to bed by nine.

It is both amazing and disgusting to see how easily I can let time slip from my grasp. It is a fault to overcome.

Slow ride

[Actually written 20 December]
The train trip lasted a little over 21 hours, pulling into Emmeryville at 6:20 PM pacific time. Sleep was a problem. At first glance, the seats appeared to be perfect for the trip: lots of leg room, reclining, leg supports. As it turns out, sleep was almost impossible. With all that room, there was nothing to scrunch up against to hold the body while sleeping. Some relief came the next day when I moved to an older car where the seats were closer together and I was able to do a bit of scrunching.

It was easy to see who the regular train travelers are. They are the ones who dress like shit, spread a thick layer of support material about themselves, and get into some serious nesting. The first passenger I saw had this to an art. He was dressed in team colors for some NFL franchise, had an open cooler with drinks and ice at his feet, and was seated as close as possible to the restroom. Pure redneck nirvana. More civilized and innocent travelers, such as myself, were more reserved and orderly, taking great care to minimize our profiles and fade into the background.

It seems that sewage treatment plants and trailer parks grow alongside rail tracks, like moss grows along a gutter or ditch. Near population centers, there were many homes near the tracks, mostly working class. Alas, none of the residents of these homes was kind enough to go into a room facing the tracks, turn on the lights, open the curtains, then have wild sex at just the right time for me to spy them for a scant few seconds.

While gazing at the homes passing by, and at the back yards, vacant lots, and parks, I had a strong feeling of "Home." For each of these humble homes, I got the impression of a place that was safe and valued. Talking with Lisa few weeks ago, she spoke of having a home, a place that wasn't just space to park the self, but an actual home - a haven that was totally yours and safe. I got this same feeling when looking at these homes. I also realized that I have never felt this way about any place that I have lived as an adult. Where I live now, with my mother, I know that I am always open to the intrusions of others, and that my privacy and safety are incomplete. When I was living with Kathleen, I never was able to make any of that space totally my own. I always had to make way for Kathleen, for her possessions and desires, and for her way of arranging and running the house. Also, we never came to a point where all things melded from Mine and Yours into Ours. Having a place totally my own, where I could say, "This is my home", is something I have never had.

Then there were the industrial facilities and warehouses. Away from population, the tracks often veered to wilderness. Where the freeway, which was never too far away, was always keeping a tenuous touch on humanity, the rails often kept well alone, going through fertile wilderness and barren wasteland alike. It was pretty cool.

So most of Thursday, the 18th, was taken up in looking out at the world or trying to catch bits of sleep. As we approached the end of the line, it was clear we would be late. I began to worry that I would miss my connection to Oakland, but reasoned that the connecting buses were tied to the arrival of the train and would all leave with their charges. Again, it was battle with the worry side of my mind. I relaxed, and sure enough made the connection. I also made the first of the two buses I needed to get to Melinda's place. But the second bus - the last of the day for route 13 - never arrived. So I walked. I walked about two miles, but it felt longer. This was when I knew I was WAY over packed. I think I am sending some stuff back home in the mail. When I finally arrived, I said hello to the cats, unpacked, nestled into bed and tried to sleep.

Magickal Mystery Tour

[Actually written 20 December]
Welcome to Existential Angst Tour 2009. This year the tour takes place a bit early, but goes a bit longer. Melinda was going to drive home for Christmas, so she could bring her cats, instead of flying. I didn't really like the idea of her making the drive, so I hatched a scheme. I would use the rest of my vacation for the year and trade places with her. I would spend my vacation cat-sitting.

As usual, I created great plans for the tour. Also, as usual, I over planned and over packed. And, also as disgustingly usual, the reality is falling flat against the expectations. Follows the record so far:

December 17, 2008
I got off work at the usual time and made it home to pack. After packing and wrapping up loose ends, I started getting ancy - wanting to get to the train station an hour before the train was to arrive. This is a personality trait I am starting to change. So I worked on my mom's schedule instead and showed up only a half hour early...just in time to see a train pull out of the station. WTF? I got on the phone and called AMTRAK customer service. According to the dude on the line, the train was a half hour behind schedule. His best guess was that I saw a special ski train pulling out. He was right. AMTRAK showed up late and I got on board at about 10:00 PM.

Somehow, but I am not sure just how, this seemed a fitting start to the adventure.

Calling in sick (private)

I called in sick today. I am sick, but being sick isn't why I called in sick.

The reason I call in sick is from lack of sleep. I get no sleep because I am up all night. I am up all night because I am coughing all night. I am coughing all night because I am sick. But I can't 'call in sleep deprived', so I 'call in sick.'

Exercise? I am not working out - can't run while coughing, can't lift weights when shivering and aching.

Spirit? There is limited magick. While the LBRP sounds cool when bumped down a half octave, it sounds crappy when whispered and raspy.

Lisa was in an accident this week and totaled her car. She has no money coming in. I have a divorce decree looming in the wings. I am now researching the best way to survive a foreclosure. I have mixed feelings on this. It would be nice to skate out of the problem, and leave the mortgage company holding the bag. But 'nice' doesn't overlap with reality, or with my ethics. I know what I want, but I don't know what my other options are. As soon as I return from vacation I am going to have a little talk with the mortgage company. We could pull this out of the fire, but it may require a small miracle.

I will be buying a few lottery tickets while in California...

Full weekend coming up. Taking The Grrls to the airport. Repairs and cleaning in Tooele. Packing for vacation. Cleaning upstairs at mom's place.

Surrender to the authorities

Today five former Blackwater employees surrendered to federal authorities in Utah. Something to do with emptying several clips of ammo in the general direction of peaceful citizens of Iraq. One of the perps lives in Utah, the others cam in from out of state. Why Utah? In hopes the trial will be held here, so they get a jury that is more likely to render a favorable verdict.

The mind boggles. Is someone seriously thinking that Utahns are more likely to say something like, "Well, Zeke, even if they didn't pull a gun on our boys, y'all know them ragheads was up to something. Them islamaniacs is ALWAYS up to SOMETHING."

Even if the jury does come from Utah, what if they all happen to come from Salt Lake City proper, which voted for Obama (this vote being canceled out by the rest of the state)?

Better yet. Let's make a list of "The best states to turn your self in, based on type of federal charge." I would start of the list with [un-named southern state] for bigamy and [un-named midwestern state] for incest. Texas for EPA infractions. Alaska saw the light with Ted Stevens, so Massachusetts will be up for bribery. Etc, etc.

I am secretly hoping they DO move the trial to Utah, and that our jury sends them to prison for the rest of their miserable little lives.

Deep and Low

The Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram is interesting when done a bit quieter and a half octave lower.

Sore throat. Contagious. Poor sleep last night. It's one of those odd illnesses that is little trouble during the day, but as soon as the head hits the pillow, the juices start to flow and the coughing starts.

I was going to skip ritual tonight, but went for it anyway. It was interesting. Being quiet and low brought a calmer and deeper energy. As a side note, the last week or so the energy of the temple space has changed. I can't walk into the room without being compelled to do a quick kabalistic cross before entering.

Setting expectations

The plan for December is 20 days with workout, and 20 days of the magickal practice. So far, not very good. The side effects of structural, getting a sore throat, and knee problems have interfered with all plans. The month isn't over.

Tonight, with a sore throat, meditation or ritual is out of the question, so I am updating the blog instead. I did weight lifting last night, so today would be aerobic. Again, the sore throat has its say.

I think I will salvage a good month from it, even if it is all off to a shaky start. Keep plugging.

Ouch - Installments 2 thru 6 of 10

Still doing the structural. Last week, working the sacrum, was interesting. It really rose to bit me when I attempted to work out Tuesday night. It wasn't happening. I let my body rest.

The latest session was face and neck. I am amazed at how far a finger can go up my nose. Not even my finger.

I am coping (poorly) with the exercises the therapist wants me to do. It reminds me of the physical therapist for my knee many years ago. I did the math and figured he wanted me to spend about three hours a day just doing therapy for the knee. This was not a short term thing, but 'forever', and as knees go, my problems were minor. In all fairness, I took what he taught me, applied it with long term success, and have avoided surgery for over ten years now. Yea me.

Will I do the same with the structural exercises? Time will tell.

Stating intents

[Written in St. George, UT....Thanksgiving with the family]

One week ago, at Gnostic Mass, I put out an intent to the Universe. But back-track to the last Mass, in September, when I did the same. The intent I put out was change. Specifically, to end the marriage with Kat and to get some movement from my mother. So I had a talk with Kat about divorce and it turned into a fight where she decried it as being the end of the world. A week later, she announced the SHE was filing for divorce. So far so good. (Strange, but good.) Then I mentioned to my mother that it may be time to leave the seven bedroom house and move to something smaller. She mumbled something about maybe moving to St George to use the bedroom and facilities Sid and Harold built in anticipation of this. Then two weeks later Harold was laid off from his job.

Batting 500.

As a consolation prize with my mother, I at least got her to take on some small cleaning projects. Better than nothing. (on the other hand, why should I have to fight so hard just to get her to clean off the blessed dining room table?)

So going into the mass this month, the voice in my head reminded me of getting results and suggested I do something like this again. The focus this time around? "Simple focus." I am being pulled a hundred directions in life. Much of it is external and there is little to be done about it. I am also suffering distraction at work and home, where I will suddenly realize I have been spinning wheels for many minutes (or few hours) and haven't done the things I need or want to do. While there are enough external distractions to blame this on, just as much of it is internal. This is what needs to be addressed.

So that is what I asked for. "Simple focus." So far...nothing. But then it turned into Thanksgiving week, and that presented a challenge. When formulating this intent, I was thinking of work, where I have more than enough to do. Even when I am doing real work, I constantly break focus to mess with other things, such as web cruising or computer games. I also think of the evenings, when I know there is work to be done - real work that makes a difference - but instead I get lost in housekeeping or menial tasks. Focus. Simple focus.

In news that could be described either as other or related, after two months of having firm goals on exercise and daily practice, then into a second month of not doing this, I am feeling the difference. I am setting goals for December. Once again, 20 days of exercise and daily practice. With the trip to Oakland planned for later in the month, I am sure I will make the daily practice goal, but the exercise may be a bit of a problem.

I am watching the news from India about the terror attacks, while a young lady from India is walking past me every few seconds to take care of the breakfast at the hotel. I wonder what she thinks of it all. Does she even think of it at all?

Ouch - Installment 1 of 10

First Structural Integration session.

Chest and abdomen. There is nothing quite like having someone shove a hand into your gut far enough to push your squishy parts out of the way and massage the interior rear of the abdominal cavity - in other words, the front of your back. Later in the day I looked at a photo of a side of beef (Wired magazine, 'The Future of Food'). I looked at the structure and said, "There. Right there is where she was poking me."

Many pressure points were found and resolved. I have had a tightness in my shoulder for several weeks. Most of the pressure points were on that side, below the scapula. Ouch. Pain. I have a vision of a customer hearing me squeal like a tortured pig (which is what I am) and say, "I don't think I want what he is having." (...and if he does want what I am having, then I have this friend who would just love to help out...)

I was given instructions on stretching and posture. I have homework to do.


Mood is improved. Self pity turning to practiced ambivalence. Anger taking a snide-ways turn. Still G-H-T (grouchy, horny, tired).

Built for Speed(o)

Tonight I have the first of ten Structural Integration sessions. I've been through this before, but in a classroom setting. This time is 'for real'. Pain. Yum.

The therapist informed me I needed to buy a Speedo to wear during the sessions - or something else that covers as little skin as possible while still reigning in the fun bits. Just as there are certain women who should never, ever, in a million years wear Spandex, there are certain men who should never come within miles of a Speedo. I am one of those men. But my therapist is a trained professional who works with the human body in its many shapes, sizes and variations. I'm sure she will handle it all with professional calm.

Right.

In other news, I seem to be running out of steam on a few fronts. Lack of focus. Effort that returns little or nothing (personal, job, etc.). Adding Structural Integration to the mix may not have been a good idea. It becomes just one more thing to be done every week, and more time away from grappling with my miserable little life.

In some cases, I just need to re-direct or renew focus. In other cases, I may need to drop a few things. No new projects. Drop some old projects. Learn to say "No." Catch up on sleep. Catch up on reading and cleaning. I am just so weary of life, and I need to direct more of my time and energies into myself - into my core.

I am tired of the standard of the standard conversation. "How are you?" "Fine." I am not 'fine.' I am frustrated and lonely. I am angry. Nothing I do pleases anyone, not even myself. There is too much giving and not enough getting in my life. Rant. Moan. Complain.

You don't say

Sunday night I was talking to Kate on the phone. I was kvetching about my youngest offspring and her boyfriend. Specifically, I was talking about the use of Kat's driveway and front porch as a grease pit for an ill conceived car repair project. You would have thought a leaking oil tanker stopped by for a visit. The phrase that came out of my mouth was, "I think they are being allowed to get away with way too much."

Kat overheard.

An hour later I have the offspring standing before my, crying and angry, throwing my words back to me - but with a very different and very specific meaning attributed to them. So I had to calm down the offspring, relate the whole conversation with Kate, then go back to Kat and fill her in on the missing details.

I never did ask where the extra content was attached to my works. Did Kat speak it that way, or did the offspring hear it that way? Was it some of both? I didn't really care, and I didn't want it to turn into a blame session. So I just stated what I said, what the context was, and that my only intent was to have my words understood. Resolve conflict. In all of this, from first confrontation to end, I was polite and I was fair. The few times the conversation tried to diverge into placing blame, I politely brought it back on track. Will I be lauded for being reasonable? No. Will my example of not placing blame be remembered or, better yet, followed? No. Will the blame for all wrongs, real or perceived, be placed at my feet? Of course they will.

Would it be nice if, just once, members of the family didn't automatically assume the worst about me, about my words, about my intentions? Does every word that falls out of my mouth have to be carefully saved, filed and indexed so that, when the time is right, it can be pulled out and used as a weapon against me?

But wait. I forget. It is all really my fault. Everything is my fault. Just ask anyone who isn't me and they will tell you so.

Things that go Spark

Last night was the first 'Meet the O.T.O.' coffee event. The unwashed masses didn't run to meet us, but we - Holly, Beverly and me - did latch onto one young man and had some good conversation. In that conversation, the young man spoke of going through a few groups and paths until on reached out and grabbed him. His description was that something 'went spark'.

It got me thinking (a dangerous thing to do).

It has been a long time since something has 'went spark' for me. So, I asked myself, what was the latest thing the sparked for me? It was the study group of a few years ago. Why? It wasn't the people - oh gads no, it wasn't them. It wasn't the topic being studied, although that did help. It was two things. First was the mere fact that we were doing something new- learning things. Second was when we took the basic rituals at the heart of the study and did them as a group. Something as simple as the LBRP transforms greatly when five voices are vibrating the god names, and when some of the actions are done in unison. It was REALLY GOOD.

I need something to spark for me. I have access to good people, to good context, and to good ritual. I need to bring them together and watch them go spark.

13/185 Vision

This morning I weighed in at 198 pounds solid. (Solid means I didn't have to cheat - the digital scale showed 197 and change.) I am heading to 185 as a 'stop and think' point. I find if I say to myself ' I need to get to 185' it intimidates me. But if I say to myself 'I need to lose 13 pounds' it sounds a lot easier. Either way, my original Grand Plan measured in goals for each week managed to crash and burn. This thing called 'life' keeps mucking with it. To hell wit the original plan. I'll just focus on the daily effort and let it happen when it happens.

It was a pretty sunrise this morning. My mood is getting a bit better, but still raw around the edges. The Buddha was right: Life is sorrow, and the beginning of sorrow is desire. How do I step off the train called Desire and board the train called Will? Where is the platform, the ticket office. Can I check my luggage, or am I limited to carry-ons?

I am now making my daily PBJ sandwiches with Crunchy Peanut Butter. This week I use the last of my white bread and start using Hole Wheat. (or what that Whole Wheat? I forget.)

As predicted

...it was a tough day inside of my head.

After small things were done, I finished massaging the StarTeam data and building a test package for pulling over to my server. So far, so good. Tomorrow I will extend it past my test product to the other two products.

I tried finding an easy way to construct a front end for a full text search into the MS SQL 2005 data. No soap. Google offered up nothing. So I guess I get to cobble it together myself.

After work was a pretty good workout. Good landscape at the gym. The left knee held up well.

For two months I had a pretty tight focus on workout and daily practice. I never got back on track for October. The lesson learned is, first, to have solid monthly goals. I think the failure was not to have the goal in place well before the beginning of the month. With October half done, I'm going to let it slide. In the next few days I'll have my goals set for November.

Running on empty

It was a mixed day. Most of the day at work was well focused, but then it all dropped out of focus. I am first trying to figure out the finer points of the StarTeam 2006 database, then looking for a way to suck select chunks to my server and plug it into a full text search.

After work was Holly and Beverly. It started a bit unfocused, then we picked up steam. Cleaned out a chuck of hallway and planted a shelf in it. But this required adding to the clutter in a few other places. You need to make a mess to clean up a mess. Then we made jam. Yum.

But the ending of the day left me sort of empty. It was a small thing. But in my current state of mind, small things have large effects. I knew I was in for a rough ride the next day.

Whine and Moan

Near the end of Pagan Pride I spied a familiar face - "The Guitar Instructor". I called his name, he came and talked, we played catch-up. Then, after he talked much of other peoples' music projects he was helping on, I asked the fatal question: "So how is _your_ music going?"

Ouch.

It was a classic Deer in the Headlights moment. He stammered a bit, then blathered about a few things I could tell were either stillborn or fantasy, then the conversation ended.

I could laugh at him. Or I could see the fingers that point back to me.

- September wrap-up
For the month of September I set a goal of Daily Practice and Work Out of 20 days from the month. It was going fine until the last few days of the month, so I ended up with 18 and 19 respectively. The last few days of the month threw me a few curves.

My plans to lose weight was mixed success. I was supposed to be down to 198, but missed it by a few pounds. On the other hand, I did drop a few pounds. The first few pounds of a 'losing streak' always works like this, so I'll take it as a success and keep working my plan. The daily practice did me some good. But the women in my life chose the week just past to fire a few emotional barrages at me, and that derailed my practice. Such is life.

I am going to give myself a pass for the weekend, then start back on track tomorrow (Monday). The effort to lose weight will continue unchanged. Daily practice will be split between Yoga and reviewing, then learning, the basic CM and Thelemic rituals.

Horus Oasis is both moving forward and annoying the hell out of me. We finally ironed over most of the PayPal issues. I did an initial sifting through the crap than Fr CF handed over to me. Then I defined the next steps to take. I'll go over some of this with B on Tuesday. It will all be good.

Women are evil. Do I want to delve into detail, or just hit the highlights? Hmmmm.....

[Highlights redacted.]

These people all tell me I am such a wonderful guy. Then they treat me like ass-wipe. Or am I just imagining things?

Growl. Snort.

Pagan Pride

Pagan Pride Day, Murray Park, about 30 minutes before things begin.

First things first. I need to set the mood for the day, and this is best done by committing it to writing. Ahem. I am not here to change the world. I expect only one - maybe two - people to show up at any future O.T.O. events as a result of today. I accept that our presence is not impressive, and I don't care. What is supposed to happen today will happen regardless of how hard I squat and strain - or not - in an effort to make it happen. At least one person will try to drag me into conflict. I will not have a cute pagan chick beg me for sex. All of this is fine. My main goal today is to chill, enjoy conversation and get some reading and writing done.

Now - for the main topics rolling around in my brain of late. The questions are...

1. Do we (the 'royal We' in this case being the Holly-Beverly-Andy collective) want to stick with Horus Oasis, fully committed to it in terms of growth into a larger body?
2. Do we want to stick with Horus Oasis treating it as belonging to the collective, and welcoming others to play with us?
3. Does the collective want to keep playing, but not as Horus Oasis?
4. Does the collective want to no longer play?

Last Tuesday I talked this over with the girls. The answer from B was number one, without reservation. The answer from H was, "I'm not sure I like the O.T.O., but this is where the universe tells me I am supposed to be, so this is where I will be." I took that as a Number 2. As for me...

What triggered this was having the Horus Oasis treasurer resign. Now that time has passed and I can see it in perspective, it is no big deal. Truth is there is very little work involved, and it was more hassle for me to connect with him to sign quarterly reports than it would have been if I had been running the whole damned thing. But the news hit me rather hard when it was received. I felt like the entire Oasis was abandoning me to run it alone. So it made me question if I wanted to stay involved myself. In retrospect, maybe I was hoping they would say they didn't want to play anymore, allowing me to drop it without guilt. I seem to spend much time in this headspace. Too much time. Too much time dithering, and not enough committing. I need to do with this what I did recently with my personal practice: set a goal to perform to a set level for a set period of time, record the results, then choose what to do next.

[Pithy Observation the first. After announcing the first pair of workshops, everyone basically stood around looking at each other. Like lemmings. Or worse.]

Speaking of this, there is some to report on my personal practice. With the month of September, I continued with the Yoga practice and resumed my exercise program. I set a goal to get my weight down to 185 by my birthday. Here is the report.

As of yesterday I have 9 days of personal practice and 9 days at the gym. I grade myself B plus to A minus on my eating habits. My average weight for the week is 202 - right on target. I am also feeling better and fitting just a bit better into my pants.

Instead of reading, I am talking to Beverly, talking to people about Horus, or writing. Most of the Beverly talk is about how to deal with situations centered around other close friends. Near the start she asked, "What do you want to do?" after much talk and a bit of looking at my words and actions, I realize what I want to do. And what keeps me from doing it. My 'aha moment' came when I said, "It would all be so much easier if my mother would just die." And what if she did? Then I would no longer be tasked with watching the house and could move out. But there is no room in Kathleen's house and I really don't want to be in her airspace. So I would move....where? And after the estate is settled, I end up with a small stash of cash. Move out of town, make a few changes, divorce Kathleen, etc.. Of course there is much more to it than this. I wonder how much of my thought process is formed by wanting to avoid certain looming disasters. Maybe I should rethink things from different points of the compass. Make a list of all the women in the herd and ask, "What would I do if this person went away?" Then follow it with, "What would I do if everyone EXCEPT this person left my life." I must go through this exercise later.