The Goddess Within

Mabon truly marks the beginning of my favorite time of year -- entering into the fall season with wonderful changing leaves, this is why I love New England, it has true joyous mystery surrounding the area, and I love to bathe myself in that energy. I am recovering from a cold. It feels like it's lasting forever, but my sense of time always seems to be a bit skewed. I often say I'm the world's whiniest person when sick, but I understand it's a cry from the inner child for comfort, for her "mommy" to come and take care of her, sit in bed with her and rub her hair while she's sick, sing her songs and make her soup. I did what I could to nurture my inner child's desires, and much of that was sitting up in bed and having a good cry, virtually about "nothing", but the act itself was more healing than any medicine could offer. I find humor (and much annoyance I must admit) to others giving me advice when I am sick... "you know what ya gotta ...

Entering September, this is my favorite time of year. I adore everything about the fall season, and living in New England is something I truly appreciate this time of year. I tend to awaken in the darker half of the year, more creative, more introspection that feels like tending to my inner garden, even if the "timing" of the year is traditionally for rest, the introspection for me fuels movement. I love how things that you put out into the Universe, with true pure intention, fosters itself into opportunities. I've been craving change, although content with where I am in life, still I seem to crave change now and again, from subtle things in life to things on a larger scale. There is a possibility that we could put into movement the prospects of moving... out of state. I have been wanting to move for quite some time, although timing (and economy) haven't been right. As Nimue gets older I want her to grow up in a home, free from some of the imperfections we are exp...

I have frequent nightmares. As far back as I can remember I had nightmares. There was a short time frame where I could actually control the dream to switch from something bad to something more comforting, I have since stopped that practice, thinking, at the time, that it was a mere fluke. I'm one of those people who can remember at least 90% of their dreams, and the percentage would be greater if I was diligent about writing them down upon first waking, but my bladder always dictates other priorities. As a result of bad dreams, I tend to suffer from insomnia. This started after I had my first real bout with depression. I was medicated for that as well as my insomnia, which left me feeling like less of a person and completely numb in the mind, something later I could see was much of the point in psychological therapy when one doesn't truly wish to listen to their patients or delve into the shadow work it takes to get to the point of change. But that is another story... The...

I think in general I don't tend to necessarily blog about great days. I sometimes feel, in a strange way, that it cheapens it by sharing it. Granted if I had certain great moments/achievements in my life I do love to share it with friends, but in general those really nice days I like to keep with those that experienced it, especially if it's family time. It's not very often we get family time out, just go out, free of errands, and just have a nice night out without having extended family with us. Tonight was the first time in a long time we went out to dinner, mostly because it's cost effective to stay in and eat, but also I fancy myself a much better cook these days than I was when we first got together, so I enjoy the concept of creating something for those that I love, all without waste. Today was one of those days that made me look at my daughter and wonder how I got so lucky... she chose us in what seems like equal measure (at times) of teacher and student, and...

There's something almost magickal about having a thought process that is clouded by darkness to only swiftly spiral into a new direction, creating new thoughts that step out of the realms of torture. Our thoughts, in some ways, are much like the weather, not necessarily the same from day to day, but can go through it's own periods of rain and shine. I spent last month in a mental storm. A necessary mental storm? Well, that's debatable by some, but it was necessary for me, in that moment, to experience the other side of my shadow self. I'm a believer in having pyramids in life -- that each extension of ourselves has another layer, another pyramid, which represents ourselves, and the many facets of our personalities. It goes beyond realms of consciousness, it's energy, it's existence on another level. I seem to bounce between versions of these pyramids, diving head first into whatever I have created a contract with, whatever the Universe feels I am ready to ta...

I read that earlier today, that "satisfaction is just a breath away"... In my attempts today to think more spiritually and reinforce the nature of simplicity, I find myself easily annoyed and crabby -- funny how the best of intentions are often tested against the reality of what your mind is trying to create. My mind is cluttered, perhaps because the home is finally uncluttered. I'd rather a cluttered mind than a cluttered home, which isn't very zen-like of me, but there you have it. There's something about a cluttered home that drives me completely insane, and everything is off-balance. Granted *I* am unbalanced when my mind is cluttered, but I sometimes find comfort in that reality. I've taken the past couple of weeks to be with myself, making no social plans, just being home and taking some time to do some much needed reading. I miss those days, of just endless reading for hours and hours, only breaking to use the bathroom and perhaps fixing something t...

I'm thinking about curtains in the metaphorical and literal sense. We've taken down the closet doors that used to be in the office (which is now our bedroom) and replaced them with long curtains. Every day I stare at them. They're this rich, deep red almost maroonish color, and I love them. It reminds me of being in love with the color red as a child. Every red crayon was pretty much destroyed so I could use red on anything and everything. Today I sat on the floor by these curtains. They're not made of gold or any kind of fancy fiber, they're just curtains, but in some odd sense they bring me comfort. I feel like it neatly contains the world behind it. The world, for once not clutter. That feels good. Not much clutter these days, that is huge, that is a relief, as I tend to be all discombobulated about clutter. So in terms of metaphorical curtains, I feel like the ones I've had draped over, well, essentially "everything" has been lifted to r...