unbroken

Once. I thought the struggle was over. Once. I thought it was a lesson learned. Once. I thought the conflict was won. One. Two. Three. Four. Times over. Will the lesson ever end. In and out. Back and forth. One way or another. Will there ever be a resolve? Will I ever move on? Why is the chain unbroken?

The roots that anchor me to this are deep. Gnarled and twisted with high emotional knots of hate, unresolved conflict, self doubt and love as cold as ice. Deep within Mother Earth I have buried these roots. Below the water line. Hidden. Nothing should grow of these roots. Not one of them raised above the soil top to be stumbled over. Hidden away from the sun. Where I wish for them to remain. And yet. And yet.....

I want to scream out to the universe with this pain and plead "NO MORE!" How many times must I go through this? What is it that I have not done before that I need to do this time? What is left of this lesson that I have not already learned in my soul torn past? What is left? What will be left? In the end. After the curtain falls and the cast has all gone home and I am left alone. Again. Alone. Asking the same question as before.

Why?

In the end I will lose. As before. And as it shall be again.

Released

There are hues of dusky blues and shady grays in the sky tonight. Reflecting the deep unrestrained emotional ocean. Within the universe there is a separation of the calm waters from the intense waves. Waves that crash at the shore line heralded by the call of rolling thunder. Thunder that echos the roar from within. Upon the breeze is the faint essence of hidden emotions. As the sky ocean opens its unconditional arms and envelops me with hallowed waters. Blessed rain. Drops that tear at my soul. Erasing. Cleansing. Refining. And when she is done and I am stripped bare, I look upon the heavens. There, after the rage, after the fury. After...is the serenity I seek. In the obsidian night sky where the ocean is deep. There hangs the shimmering brilliance of my hopes and dreams. My desires and future. Waiting to fall to earth. Into my soul. Into my life.

This is the beginning

Exhausted. Breathless. Speechless. Turned inside out, upside down and around. I float upon Springs soothing winds. Hallow. The winds echo through the center of my being. Reflecting empty places where shadows once hid. Winter has left me and Spring has arrived. Bringing on the change to fill the empty spaces that were carved away by the rushing flow of ice cold waters. And what do I find upon the winds of change?

I find my breath, my voice, my inner core, my past that has brought me here, the future that I desire, all the things that define me. I find ME. I am whole. Even when all the pieces are not completely connected. I know that with this Spring, on the winds of change, they will connect.
I will grow and change and become more of the person I am destined to be. This is the Spring of my rebirth and I will embrace it.

I have come full circle in my quest for a better understanding of the elements and all they have to offer. And in turn they have helped me find a better understanding of myself. With there help I have filled myself with desire, I have grounded myself, I have cried my tears and I have renewed my soul.

This is me. This is who I am. I am whole.

And the world has opened itself up to me and offered life.

Possesions are 9/10 of the law of nature

His eyes. I just remember thinking to myself, keep looking into his eyes. Those deep, hidden, haunted, ethereal eyes. Ashen eyes that matched the sky before the storm. And then, before the next breath, I was pulled into the dance. Drowning in his words. His hand on my shoulder. Shaking me. Pouring his energy into mine. Keeping me focused on his words. The pain and passion behind those voices were overwhelming.

"How can you not do this! Your Grandfather was a Minister!"

Then, as quickly as they appeared, the elderly man once again stood before me. Telling his story. No one but me was hidden in the storm. I smile at his history. His gentle face. His calm eyes. He moved on. Another stood before me. Giving me no time to process. No time to think. No time to breath. No time.

It has been days since the occurrence, encounter, possession and I can still feel the trembles rise within me. I wonder if it is the same for everyone who encounters them or am I alone. After all these years. After all I have seen. After all I have experienced. I should know. I should see it coming. I should be okay. But even now, as I type this, I tremble.

Letting Go

I read somewhere that sleeping is a way of dying and allowing some part of our old selves to fade away and be reborn anew again in the morning when we wake. The trick is to hold onto the new and not allow the old to return. Lucid dreaming is one way of doing this.

I was chasing down old friends last night in my dreams. First it was Tina my best friend from High School. I haven't seen her in decades and we didn't part on horrible terms but somehow, in this dream, I dredged up an old grudge that I thought never really bothered me any more. But here I am, reliving the emotions all over again. She did not last long in the dream. Perhaps as long as I needed for the knowledge, acceptance and releasing of that grudge.

In the very next moment there was an older woman. I could only feel that it was my Grandmother from my Dad's side. When I think back she seems to have taken the form of the only picture I have of her. She was here to visit and she brought Niles, an old friend from my early twenties. I was in a rush to preen for him. What slowed me down was when I was dressing, she stood there, next to me, in a disapproving way. Asking if that is how I would dress before him. With only a T-shirt on to hold up my breasts. When I looked down they were lopsided and I could not get them straight. Now that I look up breasts in dream interpretation books they mean nurturing, love. So am I out of balance?

Grandmother tells me that Niles is a hairdresser. Which doesn't surprise me but in reality it should. He was a drummer in the day, a HOT drummer for that matter. I love the boys in the band after all. So here before me is sat a sack of lemon grass and spearmint. I am told this is what he uses as his shampoo. So, wanting to be close to him, I snatch up a hand full and put it in a glass of water to use in my hair. Now lemongrass is used as a wash for repelling serpents. As well as aiding in lust, fidelity, honesty, growth, strength, physic powers and purification. Spearmint is for healing of the lungs and for sharpening mental health.

I really never get close to him or alone with him no matter how hard I tried. Which always seems to happen in my dreams. I never can get myself close to the object I desire. Whatever it may be. So we end up in a room of newbie stylist which he is here to school. I find myself one of them and can not do the job. He reassures me that I will do great and says goodbye. There I stand, letting him walk away, again. However, this time I come to my senses and chase after him. I catch him at the bottom of the stairs in the parking lot. I run him to him, all the while thinking of what I should do. It was so lucid. The choices were mine to make. And, finally, I chose to kiss him. After all these years of regret. But was even more amazing than that is that I didn't feel anything. Nothing. After all these years there was never really any connection.

To hold on to the past is one of the loads that can burden us, make us sick and hold us back. Even if we do not know that we carry it with us. I now consciously allow that bit of myself to die away from last nights sleep. Allowing a small rebirth of myself. Less burdened from the past. I am letting go and moving on.

Rough Waters

When the decisions are a struggle
and the light begins to fade
there is a candle in the dark
to light the way

I have struggled through the Fall and buried myself in Mother Earth. Only to come to the understanding that It has never been a favorable season for me. An awakening long needed. There was no spiritual enlightenment. Only the mundane. The reality of life lived in this world. The realization of the connection between me and the rest of everything else. This was a shock and I mourned the loss of something that I truly never had.

In the cold Winter months I celebrate the element Water and all the emotions that flow within it. I knew this path I chose to take two seasons ago but I did not know the deep changes that resided in it. And now that I am here, lost in emotion, I know why it has taken me so long to take this journey. It is life changing, heart wrenching, all consuming. I breath, eat and live as every thought and action immerses itself in the elements.

I chose water in the form of ice for the season of Winter. Ice blue in color. Frozen in time. My house drips of hand made snow flakes to remind myself, that although I live in the desert, somewhere time is at a stand still. This is how I would prefer my lesson in water be. Still. Empty. This is how I prefer my emotions to be.

However, water is powerful, raging, transforming, cleansing, ever changing, soothing, drowning. There is play time in the shallows and no air in the deep dark hallows of hidden emotions. Demanding time. Demanding honesty. Demanding all of me.

The waters only rage over rough terrain. Terrain that perhaps need to be smoothed. Places where new paths need to be carved. There, in the wake of the storm, when the flood is over, will lay a shallow pool of cool, calm, refreshing blue water to gaze into and reflect upon.

Ode to the dead

By birth right. By blood.
By unseen ties that bind
so tight, so loose.
They can scar one blind.

To look away. To look behind.
The future hides
that which the past refuses to find.
What to remember? What to reveal?
Memories one can only wish
were not so real.

Memories bring the future present.
With rose colored glasses
the bad times bleed into pleasant.

To close to leave. To separate to cling.
Balancing on the wire of a heart string.
To love. To hurt.
Hoping they did their best.
Always waiting, watching,
wanting all the rest.

Move on. Move up.
Go forward and do better.
Give to the seeds to come
what should have been
for this one.

Learning. remembering.
Knowledge opens another door.
Step by step.
The room beyond holds another cure.

Looking ahead, glancing back.
Peaking at the tree.
What else could I possibly see?
Not just them. But me.

the flame

My element
FIRE
my spirit
DESIRE
my stability
STRENGTH
my reverence
CHANGO

You are my strength. I bow to you. You are my humility. I stand for what I believe. You are my desire. I embrace life. You are my beginning. I shall rise from the ashes. In red. In white. In the fire that burns bright. There we dance. There I learn. Within your flame, within your touch. I succumb. In twirling fever that burns the night. In desires that bring on the light.

Equality

Twice a year our time is split down the middle. Twice a year day and night share time. Twice a year there is rest in the sky. The day is no longer besting the night. The night no longer overwhelms the day. A mutual decision is made between the light and the dark to share this world. To rest before one, once again, will over take the other. Drowning the world in one complete brilliance of the light or one complete shadow of the dark. This is the day. This is Fall Equinox.

I wonder, as we emerge through and out of this reality, how it effects the subconscious of humanity. Were there less fights and more agreements? Perhaps some marriages recovered from divorces? Did we all tend to see the other persons point of view a little more clearly today? Was there an over all ease around the world? Less of a tug a war and more of a rest? As the day and the night are considered equal on this day, do we see each other as equals as well?

Equals for a day. Before tomorrow brings on the struggle once again. A never ending chase with the dark overpowering the light and blanketing this side of the earth in it's velvety embrace. Holding us close, teaching us the lessons that only the shadows can know. Bringing us closer to eternal rest. Eternal slumber.

Fire is

strength desire cleansing
motivation self motivation
energy dance motion change
transition rebirth

I decided to restudy the elements. When I mulled over where to start I began thinking about the seasons. I'm all for tying things in together. All things must be related in one form or fashion. Which lead me to connect Summer with Fire. Here in Arizona the summer is so hot it feels like fire. A fry an egg on the asphalt kind of hot. A heat wave rising from the street kind of hot. A burn your hand on the steering wheel kind of hot. A stay in the sun too long and your skin will begin to melt kind of hot. All that relates to the heat of fire kind of hot.

However, as I concentrate on bringing Fire into my life, breathing in the energy, studying, discovering and working with it, I realize that their was an underlying reason I picked this particular element at this point in my life.

It is the change that I so desire. The motivation that I need to follow through. The constant movement to keep me focused. Giving me the strength to burn away that which is no longer wanted. To be reborn. Renewed.

This is the Time of Fire

There is a time of Water and a time of Wind.
This is the time of Fire, and Fire eats time.
The sands of the desert are uncountable!
Let go of the reckoning! Let go of time!
Let go of rain! Let go of forgiving!

Fire eats rain and Fire eats trees. Fire eats
The leaves of corn. Fire is the grain and the husk
Of corn. Fire is the raging of Water. Fire is the roar,
the hum, the sting of Wind. Fire is the pepper pulsing
from the flower. Fire is the frenzied volcano dancing.
It is the lightning's blitz, the drumming, the singing,
The beat of tribes, telling their story all night,
Piercing the bottom of dark, birthing the light.

Fire is the Earth exhausted, folding, sleeping
from days and nights of love, 'til there is no counting.
When flowers bleed, when lions sleep, when angels sigh, oh bleed, oh
sleep, oh sigh then! Oh, burn with mountains!
When leaves flame and fall to the ground,
When grass grows brown then gray, grieve not.
Grieve not, but follow the eagle and follow the grass.

Weep not for the Earth. Weep not for the corn.
The Earth is the lover who gives all to love.
The Earth makes a bed of Love and the Sun knows.
The Earth makes a table of Love and the Fire knows.
The Earth feeds Fire. The Earth gives all to Love.
Follow the Earth. Look beyond your eyes as you go!
Follow the Earth to the beat of the Fire!

Elaine Maria Upton

Lammas

Lammas is the first harvest celebration of the year. In the world of agriculture it is the slight leanings towards Autumn. The giving life of the sun is diminishing and darkness is slowly rolling across the skies. What was planted is now in full bloom and the reaping of what was toiled begins. It is the harvest of wheat that is celebrated at this Sabbat. Warm loaves of bread are baked and wheat stalks are entwined for Magickal decorations. A celebration of bountifulness commences and the Gods are thanked for all the blessings that are given.

I have always had a hard time with the harvest festivals. City girls completely removed from the cycles of Mother Earth usually do. Although I know more now of the growing seasons I am still the reaper of plants and prefer to purchase my food instead of grow/kill it. And what makes this years wheat harvest even more horrid to celebrate is the fact that I am now wheat free. So what is left to celebrate?

Most "Urban Witches" fall back on the bounty in their lives. Reaping the blessings of their planted desires from Springs Equinox. Fruitions of desired health, wealth, love and family. I, however, am careful not to plant these seeds in the Spring in fear of what may come of them. A hearts desire may not match that which is written. And what of the sacrifices that will be made for these requests? For even wishes must be paid for.

-------------

Yet here I sit on this barren ground. There are no whispering winds to carry my dreams upon. No deep fertile soil to nourish my roots. No thirst quenching water to nourish my soul. No life giving sun to light my way. Perhaps I have over toiled this plot in my life. Leaving me tired, empty and fruitless.

And then I found this:

"There is a time of beginning, a time
of growth, a time of being, a time of withering or wearing out, and a time
of leaving. This is all part of the perfection of life. I sense it as normal
and natural, and though saddened at times, I accept the cycle and rhythms.

Sometimes there is an abrupt ending in mid-cycle."

............and it brought me back to the reality of life. I then realized that I am stuck here. Have been for awhile. I suppose it is because I haven't yet figured out how to transition into this. In the past it has always been a physical move. Away from people, places and things. Shedding the old life for a new one. Now I need to learn how to transition without the help from the physical realm. Relying completely on the spirit within. And perhaps the change within will change the physical and my life will be fertile and in bloom once again.

My life as a Mosaic

1. Day 363: After Christina., 2. Nothing Else Matters!, 3. Triple Moon & Goddess Tattoo/Symbol *click for all 3 moons, 4. Yellow & Purple Daisies, 5. better be a dr. in the house . . ., 6. homemade rootbeer, 7. The Road Less Traveled By, 8. ice cream time, 9. iPod Song of the Week, 10. Unknown, 11. I Won't Stop Searching, 12. Happy Samhain!

I saw this on another BLOG I read and thought it would a great way to try my hand at Flickr. My life looks rather pretty in pictures. If you choose to try it out here are the rules:

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Type your answer to each question below, into Flickr Search

2. Using only the first page of results, pick one image.

3. Copy & paste each of the URLs for the images into Big Huge Lab’s Mosaic Maker to create a mosaic of the picture answers.

THE QUESTIONS:

1. What is your real christian/first name?

2. What is your favourite food - right now?

3. What school did you go to?

4. What is your favourite colour?

5. Who is your latest celebrity crush?

6. What is your favorite drink?

7. What is your dream vacation destination?

8. What is your favorite dessert?

9. What do you want to be when you grow up?

10. What do you love most in life?

11. What is one word that describes you now?

12. What is your Flickr/Blog name?

Butt Prints in the Sand

Butt Prints in the Sand

One night I had a wondrous dream, One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of the Goddess they were, But mine were not along the shore.

But then some stranger prints appeared, and I asked Her, "What have we here?
These prints are large and round and neat, But much too big to be from feet."

"My child," She said in somber tones, "For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith, But you refused and made me wait."

"You would not learn, you would not grow, The walk of faith, you would not know,
So I got tired, I got fed up, And there I dropped you on your butt.

"Because in life, there comes a time When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand, Or leave their butt prints in the sand."

Author Unknown

In Seven Days

In the beginning God made bread and then he said, "MMMMMMMM That is good."

On the second day God got a sense of humor and he said, "Pull my finger!"

On the third day God, in his sick and twisted sense of humor way said, "Thou shall no longer partake in this good thing called bread."

On the fourth and the fifth day God watched me starve and he giggled in his sick and twisted sense of humor way.

On the sixth and seventh day I found my way back into the kitchen and I cooked without bread and I don't care what God said about it.

One week it has been and I have survived. The first two days were hard. Really fucking hard. I almost forgot how to cook. Or to eat. Or to drink. Or to function. How can one do anything without bread? I felt completely lost in the kitchen. The whole idea of cooking became foreign to me. To eat was a chore. It was a strange experience to go through.

There is this commercial (and if I ever find it I will post it here) about quitting smoking. Funniest damn thing I ever saw. Some guy trying to figure out how to do normal every day tasks, like getting into a car, without a cigarette in hand. Keys in hand he is on top of the car, under the car, putting the key into the gas tank. Yep. That is how I felt. Substitute the cigarette with a loaf of freshly made sourdough bread of course. I couldn't function in the food world those first couple of days. A pan was just a large flat metal object meant to be used as a weapon of mass destruction. Food was poison. If that is what an addiction does to a person coming off it, I am glad mine was bread. Holy shit!

I wish I can jump up and down and exclaim that I feel so much better, happier, lighter, healthier blah blah blah. I can't. But I can say that it is easier now. I am cooking again. The pan has been placed back onto the stove. Food has been cooked. And I am adjusting just fine. Until little moments hit like when a neighbor friend reminds me that I will never partake in a chicken fried steak dinner again. The I start thinking of that frying pan becoming a WMD.

"I swear I don't know how my pan ended up in his head, officer."

The Good, the Bad and the Real F*cking Ugly

The never ending search for a healthier me has continued, even though there has not been much said of it. The last post caught me off guard. I did not realize how heavy the feelings were on the whole topic. Writing it all down brings out of the closet some real ugly monsters. The monsters that taunt me from their nooks and crannies in the dark. Always reminding me.................

I want, in the worst kind of way, to delete the post. Delete the past. But since that button does not exist in this world I can not allow it to exist in the written world either. After all, this is all about me no longer running away. But facing it all. Even if it is one small step at a time.

Let's start off by being honest. I never did go back to the allergist. I know that I am allergic to everything that grows in AZ. That was confirmed many many years ago with the first set of tests. I also already know that my lungs are trashed. So why do I need another x-ray to confirm this? I also know that my gut is falling apart as well. So why do I feel that I need more of the same tests? I don't. So I stopped. Until recently.

I finally broke myself down and went to a NMD. "Broke down" because I knew that this would be the final admittance step. There is no turning around on this one way street. This final decision would lead me to the ultimate answers. Answers that would change my life forever. Ready or not. There I went.

He took a blood sample and had it analyzed for food allergens. The bad part is that it only revealed what I already knew but wanted to avoid in the most horrible way. The real f*cking ugly part is that I am allergic to wheat and yeast.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Along with a few other food items that I only need to avoid for the next six month. They do not matter all that much to me. Not nearly as much as my breads and muffins and cakes and pitas and breads and tortillas and gravies and breads and scones and bread and bread and bread..........for the next year to the REST OF MY LIFE.

So on this New Moon I start a new way of life eliminating this horribly yummy killer. What a way to celebrate a New Moon! Oh, I can think of so many other ways to celebrate it right now.

I am on day two of NO BREAD and really, truly, honestly I am STARVING! Because, really, what else is their to eat?

And to end this on a positive note, which is always the best way to end things, I did find out that their is one other thing I covet that I am not allergic to. Thank the Gods above.

I can still have coffee. MMMMMMMMMMMMM COFFEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hind sight is 20/20

It's a full moon and my youngest daughter is begging to do a ritual for it. But enough about that. On with the real reason I a writing today.

I have been trying to figure it all out. Looking back, trying to retrace my steps, remembering dates, remembering dreams, putting two and two together, trying to figure out how to escape from it, to get over it, get on with it. Which is why this has taken so long for me to write. So, it starts here:

Once upon a New Moon...........or...........I had a dream..............or............WARNING never post a comment on someones Blog..............or............forced out of the BLOG closet.........or...........careful, someone is always pointing a camera when your not looking. You pick. They all tie in together. Not necessarily in that order.

Actually, it starts something like this:

I had a dream. In this dream there were three wolves. I killed one. There was more to it but for now me killing the one wolf is most important. By hand. I strangled it. I wasn't scared and the other wolves did nothing. None of them were scared either. At the time I knew it was prophetic. I just didn't know how or why. And this is what I found in my dream meaning search (which came much much too late).........

"To dream that you kill a wolf, indicates betrayal and secrets revealed."

Then came the photo shoot of the century. A friend snapped this shot of me and posted it on her Blog (without me knowing of course). So when I went to read her latest update, imagine to my surprise to see ME as the main topic. ME! Well, I don't normally leave comments. I am a peeping tom kinda gal but I had to say something just to save my reputation. So I did. Not realizing there was a hidden link.

Not until my other friend explained to me that she found my Wandering something or other Blog. How? By clicking on the link that went with my comment on the other Blog. I was shocked. My secret Blog revealed to the world. OK OK so Blogs aren't exactly where you keep "secrets". But since I started this Blog I wasn't ready to have my friends read it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. And here, all of a sudden I was pushed out of the closet.

The Blog closet. My Blog closet. The one that I was very comfortable in. Thank you very much. It had a small candle flame to light my writings. A cushy chair to sit and meditate upon. A small window opening to the rest of the world. A window I was not ready to open any wider. But all things change. Just like this Blog has changed over time. Some change is done from the inside and some from the outside. And this outside change came as a shock. I thought I was not ready for this.

Or was I? I could have rushed home and quickly put this on private. I did think about it. I even reread all my posts. And came to realize that if my friends are interested in reading all about the Witch in me, so be it. All things happen for a reason, right? The universe works in mysterious ways. Blah. Blah. Blah.

And I did have my fare warning after all. It is my own fault for not following through, figuring it out and being prepared.

All this in the span of a New Moon. New beginnings. Since I have started this Blog I have realized that the cycle of the Moon and the High Holidays are always weaving their Magick. No matter if we stick to the rituals or not.

All this over one dead wolf. Funny thing is, I have two left. Wonder what secrets are locked away inside them.

The Dark Side of the Moon

I never said I was a good witch. Once, in the beginning, you could say that I "experimented" with my craft. Tested the waters. How far into the shadows could I venture before the bread crumbs became feasts for unseen beasts. I played with fire. I got burned. I still played with fire. Only better. One should learn from ones mistakes. One should hope.

Then I met a few other witches along the way that introduced me to Karma. "Nice to meet you." I said. "Explain yourself to me." I said. Allow me to show you the way. It said. I learned. I backed away from the fire. Ventured out of the dark forest of the night into the cold crisp spark of dawn. Just where the light can barely caress me with its purity. And that is as far as I got. The sky is bright. The sun is torture. The light is burns. There is too much space. There I am alone. Lost. Left without power.

I prefer to root myself into the night, into the darken woods, into the storm. My roots are deep, strong and hold fast. Supporting my growth, my knowledge, my power. Where there is no light I flourish. The moon is my sun. The dark of the moon is my strength. I am comforted by the howls, by the silence. The darkness speaks to me and I learn. My essence lies with the darker side of the moon.

What of Karma? So what of Karma? Karma is but a lesson within a lesson. I am done with my lessons. I have jumped off the wheel and ventured out into the living. This does not make me a bad witch or a good witch. Just a witch. I have learned that there is no light without dark. No "good without evil". In each of us there lies both. In everything their lies both. One can not function without the other. The universe has accepted this faith. From the tiniest microbe to the largest oak. It is only man who insists and persists in this constant lesson to be learned. How dramatic. How self punishing. No thank you. I prefer to live. So I said to Karma, "It was nice to meet you. But we are on separate paths, you and I. I bid you fare well." And not so amazingly enough, I haven't heard from him since.

What of what others say? So what of it? I do not understand how Magick functions in the light any more than they understand how Magick can function in the dark. And that is fine by me. Can anyone really say which is better? Mine is no more harmful than theres. It all comes down to different energies. Different vibrations. Different docking posts. Like trying to hook up a C battery to start a car. It won't happen. No matter how many times one tries. I just happen to fit into the night better than the day. Although I did try, so many times, for so many years, to hook my star to that sun. Only to be burned and into the night I went to heal my wounds.

Finding Peace

I am a loner by nature. The sound of silence. The fill of an empty room. The touch of space. Completely lost in my own minds eye. I can find solitude in a room full of people as well. Melting into the background. Vanishing from all human eyes. Becoming the observer. Never interacting. Never effecting my surroundings. Never there.

Although some may say that I should seek out therapy (for many other reasons as well), I truly prefer this. I thrive on it. I learn, I grow, I become more in tune with myself and my surroundings, I create, I flow, I am calm, I am at peace.

I have, however, brought into my existence something quite the contrary. My life is full of busyness, friends, family, work, school etc etc etc. Never a moment breathe..............................

Never
a
moment
to
breathe.

I have thought throughout my self induced chaos that what I really needed to do was to learn how to thrive in it. Find the calm in the storm. The silence in words. Trying not to shrink into oblivion while I am amongst my Tribe. Find peace in my children's eyes. Knowing in my heart that this is necessary to keep me entwined with the world I have created, the world I find so dear and close to me, the world I would fall into nothingness if I would ever to lose it. I work hard at this everyday, every moment, with every breathe I have. But I fear that I come up short of perfection.

But that is alright by me at this moment. I am coming to terms with it. I am no longer struggling. And today, amongst the chaos of my three little Loki's, I found peace. At least for a bit. Because last night I found my solitude once again.

In the wee hours around my birth time. The chill of the night. The arms of darkness. The hush of silence. The warmth of my rocking chair. A stolen bit of time. The universe enveloped me and together we found my space. My sanctity. My knowledge. My strength. My inner peace. My breathe.

Breathe in
Breathe out
Breathe in
Breathe out

Took me ten years but now I know that I do not have to replace one with the other. I can have the two entwined. Braided. Interacting with each other. Giving strength where needed. Peace when desired.

This is my space. My solitude. Something for the loner in me to reside in.

Thing One came down with a nasty old sinus infection at midnight this last Thursday. She is very prone to them. Poor thing. There are just some things a Mom and Dad wishes would NOT be passed down through the creation of life.

Like The Lord of the Houses unibrow. Don't get me wrong. It is one of the reasons I fell in love with him. But for that gene to come alive in one of my girls is not a pretty sight. Thank the Goddess for modern technology. She will be receiving one big apology and a gift card to an Electrologist for her 16Th birthday. Or the fact that the girls got my tangly/frizzy hair instead of their Dad's naturally curly and never knotty locks. We bought stock in a detangler spray as soon as we found out. Or like Thing One's allergies which she also got from me.

Out with the homeopathic books and drugs and out of the bed went The Lord of the House so Thing One can find a comfy spot next to Mom. I treated her all night in hopes that she will be fine for school the next day. I mean really. She just started liking it. I didn't want her to have the chance of getting comfy at home again. But to my dismay she was not 100% better the next morning. And I blame most of it on the damn mosquito sprayers.

They drove through our neighborhood that night at two in the morning. With their loud high pitch shriek and their toxic chemicals that kill every good bug in sight as well as the old mosquito's but not their larva. They are so obnoxious with their self righteous toxic view point and their irritating desire to ruin our health.

Irritating is the word for it. Because this entire weekend has been filled with irritated throats and headaches ands crankiness.

So here we sat the weekend out in PJ's. Playing puzzles. Coloring. Watching movies. Working on one art project. See, we had stuffed clams for dinner Friday night and Cat in the Hat thought it would be a good idea to keep the shells. Here are the results.
From upper right and around: Thing One's, Cat in the Hat's, Thing Two's and mine.