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.