Samsara

First: to all of you who left me such lovely, heartfelt encouragement and strength in the comments of my last entry, thank you SO MUCH. I would have responded to each of you but it basically would just be virtual blubbering and hugging, so I do that here, now: *HUGS* *LOVE* *TEARS* THANK YOU!

I feel much better today. I think a part of me knew this was coming--I had done Tarot readings at the hermitage that, at the time, I refused to believe because they were either a) too good to be true, or b) too frightening to delve into. Back then, I was haunted by images of Death, but I was also deep into a spiral of depression and anxiety. Even though I *never* interpret Death as death, I kept going back there. But I've also had a paranoid vibe at work since forever. And I totally read about me receiving inheritance, and I thought it too good to be true (plus my mother had told me we weren't in my grandfather's will, and I hadn't expected it anyway). But lo, my parents decided to give each of their kids a substantial gift. And lo, Death came and terminated my job at the lamest excuse for a business ever.

Today, I feel shameful joy. I'm working on the shame part. But the world would have me believe that it's not okay to be happy about this, about uncertainty, and unstable income, and lack of being a "contributing member of society." It would tell me I can't be happy when I don't know what the outcome of my unemployment is yet. It would tell me I have to take the first job that comes along, even if it sends me right back into a black hole of depression and anxiety.

But you know what? I'm happy. I don't ever have to go into that toxic, poisonous office ever again. I don't ever have to worry about my shitty boss being in a pissy mood, or doing a shitty, poorly designed project, skirting the edges of ethical. I don't have to worry about getting approval for time off, leaving early, having time to pick up my husband, get to a doctor's appointment, being late because of traffic, being temporarily laid off just because the president is a cheap mother fucker... I could go on about what I'm leaving behind, but let's not. Let's... leave it behind.

Today, I woke up with crazy hair because I went to bed with it damp. Here's another secret admission (theme of the week): I love when my hair is insane. I have "curly" hair, but it usually settles into waves on the second day. Sometimes when I go to bed with damp hair I wake up with this MASSIVE LION FRO and it is AMAZING. I feel fine going out into the world with that, but to the office? It feels "unprofessional." So I have to wet it down and comb it out until I look respectable (metaphor?). Since I got faux bangs at my last haircut (bangs that are pretty much always swept aside) my hair gets even crazier around my face. I think next time I get my hair cut I'm just going to ask them to cut it in whatever way makes my hair the BIGGEST. Because why not?

Also today, I put on my teal corduroy pants and my most comfortable tee shirt, thinking "fuck business casual" the whole time. I woke up feeling giddy, goofy... kind of blossoming. I feel like I'm slowly rising out from my prison. Slowly remembering who and what I am. I can wear hair flowers now, since I don't have to worry about a headset messing them up. And so long as I'm willing to dye over it if need be when a job opportunity comes up, I can totally take advantage of the toner being faded from my recent highlights and dye that shit FIRE ENGINE RED or TEAL or GREEN or FUSCIA. I can do what I mother fucking want.

I'm at Spot Coffee right now, in Williamsville. I decided to go here after I dropped off Jared, and have the coffee I would have been having in the afternoon. I'll be writing in a moment. I'm beginning to live the life I've been dreaming of. It hasn't come as expected, and it's scary, and it's by no means stable. But I have to focus on the positive. I must see this as an opportunity. And I really do--it's just so hard, in the face of so much societal conditioning, to say "I'm happy I got fired."

So, I've given you three secrets this week:

1) I think I'm a fucking awesome writer.
2) I love when my hair is huge and curly and crazy.
3) I'm happy I got fired from my shitty job.

Hell yes! What other secrets can I share with you? I'll think about it...

I'm sorry but I called in sick to work today to take a mental health day and I'm out at Spot Coffee writing all morning and I just had to share this snippet from GHOST CITY because I'm so effin' pleased with it. :D


Kiddo looks away first, steps to the very edge of the roof to look down at the ghosts. Her nearness to the edge makes Noah palpably nervous. He wants to reach to pull her back, but Kiddo is fearless, just as sure footed at the edge of the roof as in the middle of a barren field. He doesn’t want to insult her by insinuating her balance is anything less than remarkable.

But despite what he thinks, Kiddo doesn’t have much of a concept of pride, even when it comes to her physical prowess. She’s stood on many edges in her lifetime, looked out over the clear dark of the night, or the water, or the sky, and no one has ever touched her arm to draw her back to safety. If Noah had done that, as he wanted to, just then, Kiddo wouldn’t have been insulted. She might have been startled that someone would make such a communicative gesture—“I don’t want you to fall and die”—especially Noah. But she wouldn't have been insulted.

Instead, Kiddo stands on the edge of the roof, alone, and Noah does nothing, fearful that pulling her back would only push her farther away.



:D

My grandfather passed away peacefully yesterday morning with much of his family at his side. We're not having a funeral, but a prayer service next week (he would have liked prayers) at the funeral home where he'll be cremated, and then in the summer, when our family can all get together, we're going to have a memorial service and celebration of his life. I am more than at peace with his passing--I am so happy for him, that he is whole again, aware again, in the arms of loved ones who have gone before.

My heart goes out to all of you who have also lost loved ones recently, and to those of you who fear you may lose one soon. I wish I could beam some of my peace to you, wherever you are, in your dark hours. 

My old editing business, Your Write Words, is officially back up and running (as soon as I get some legitimate clients)! This will hopefully be what saves me from using up all of my savings in my venture to go part time at my day job. If I can make this business work (I only need to earn $800/month!), I can work part time indefinitely, while getting my writing done first thing every morning, so that eventually I might just be able to start publishing books again.

Feel free to "Like" YWW on Facebook, share my site (www.ywwediting.com), or refer anyone who you think would be interested in some professional editing! Any help you would like to give by spreading the word to your writer friends (fiction and non!) would be absolutely the most wonderful and nicest thing in the world that you could possibly do for me. NO PRESSURE THOUGH :D 

(No, seriously: no pressure. You guys rock hard enough as it is. <3)

So when Rusty was dropped at the shelter, the droppers assumed the shelter would have him put down because he was riddled with mange. Sue, the director at the shelter, did the proper thing first, which is took him to a vet, had him dipped and medicated, and eventually the mange cleared up. By the time we picked him up, almost all of his fur had grown back.

But... I think the mange is coming back. :/ He has patches on his head where the hair is missing, and the skin is pink and irritated.

I'm not going to freak out about this because I have a plethora of information an resources at my disposal to handle this. A) I have a bunch of the pills that the vet originally gave him, and instructions on how he should take them. B) I have a bunch of cedar oil products that my father sells specifically for use on pets to treat things like mange. C) Mange is a lot like scabies, and if you recall there was a scabies outbreak at my husband's place of work so we learned all about how to prevent and treat that at home (sulphur!). D) Worst case scenario we break the bank taking him to a vet for medicated dips.

This isn't going to be a problem. It might be expensive, but he's part of our family now, and we'll do what we have to do.

I'm just wondering: have any of you ever had a dog with mange? Do you know anyone who has? Do you know how they treated it? If chemicals worked I'd be all over that, but it seems like they didn't work this time, and from what I've read around the internet it seems like they don't work in general, so home remedies are actually the better option this time (not just me being an anti-chemical hippie).

Thoughts?

We went to visit Jared's maternal grandparents this weekend in PA. There is so much drama on his side of the family, I'm not even going to try to explain (I don't even know if I actually understand it), but I'm happy to say I'm married to a man who doesn't hold grudges and is good at making amends. So we got to spend time with some good people, adorable dogs, and GOATS.

OMG GOATS. Jared's aunt has a dairy farm, and her daughter/his cousin has been raising goats for a few years now. They make soap from the goat milk and sell it at fairs, and make cheese to eat at home. And they're adorable! Little alpine goats, drinking from bottles, acting like dogs! Oooh I want land, and a couple of goats and chickens, and alpacas (I've just wanted alpacas for a long time, ever since I saw a lady walking hers at Niagara Falls State Park. Plus, their shearings go for big money these days!). This is my official goal. Once I'm firmly established as a work from home author, we're going to do this. :D

After the drive home yesterday we met up with my parents, who helped us fix our gutter which has been hanging since January, and plant some lily of the valley Jared's grandmother gave us from her garden. I luuurv lily of the valley. I only wish it bloomed longer.

I'm finally beginning to see how I want the garden to turn out. We're going to have to actually get our hands on some plants (though we are taking plenty of transplants from my parents, heehee) like bittersweet, holly, some Stepables groundcovers (I'm a groundcover lover)... and of course we'll need trelis like things, and stones etc. for demarkating the garden border. I'm going to expand the front yard garden so that it follows along the walkway to the stairs, too--we're going to plant a crapload of lavender there so it smells heavenly when you walk up the stairs. Eee! Gardens!

So aside from all that... I turn 27 in a few weeks! I'm celebrating with a massage this week, and Jared is taking me to Lily Dale for a reading on the 19th. Also, there are other things. Surprises. ;D

What is NOT a surprise, is the dog we're going to visit tonight in Ashville! I'M SO EXCITED. XD XD XD

OK! Happy Monday!

-I'm trying to cultivate a perspective that sees unwanted things as contrast and variety, things that signal me to turn my attention towards what I want instead. Focusing on the negative never helps. So far, it's kind of lovely.

-I got some fresh copies of TPaL in the mail, and I intend to go out to the local independent bookstores (there are perhaps 3) and ask them if they'd be willing to carry it. I am pretty terrified about doing this, even though I know the worst case scenario is a rude rejection, which I deal with every day on the phones at work. I'm just clueless as to how to have this particular conversation. *gulp*

-I think, perhaps, FINALLY, my homeopathic remedy has stopped the emotional rollercoaster thing. I'm still working out how to approach these latest rewrites and revisions, but my main goal now is the write the story that makes me happy, and that's it. Thoughts on publishing can wait.

-I want a dog. We're working on manifesting the perfect addition to our family--Jared wants a Boston terrier, and I just want something that gets along with cats and doesn't chew on furniture ;)

-My birthday is in just under a month! I want to get myself a tattoo, and need to get my lazy butt to the artist I have in mind for a consultation.

Happy Friday! Hope you all have a great weekend!

Yesterday, in honor of the first day of spring and the GORGEOUS weather we've been having all week, Jared and I took our bikes out the moment we came home from work. We rode into the city, through ghost neighborhoods and past crumbling churches and boarded up factories, and did figure eights outside of City Hall by the McKinley Monument. We stopped for dinner at Spot Coffee on Delaware Ave., and I was a little heartbroken to find that it is slowly turning into a cafe that is just like all the other chain cafes out there.

Spot was originally a local chain with a unique, thrifty style: lots of busted vintage couches and gaudy brass lamps with crystals hanging from the shades, local artwork on the walls, and bold, dark colors used for decorating. The bathrooms were a haven for graffiti artists and poets, a repository for quotations and sentiment, little slices of other people's lives inked onto the walls for all to see. A few weeks ago, the bathroom was painted over in a rich grey paint--I thought perhaps they were just giving us a clean canvas since the other one had filled up. But yesterday I saw with some sadness that the bathroom had been remodeled. It now looks just like all the other chain cafe bathrooms I've been in: grey/brown tile walls, a stylishly large granite sink, new brushed nickel fixtures everywhere. I could have been washing my hands in almost any kind of chain establishment that has renovated in the last 15 years.

I mentioned it to Jared, and when he went into the men's room he said there was a tiny bit of graffiti on the door that read "new walls?! MOAR ART" and even though it's juvenile, it made me happy. It made me glad to see I wasn't the only one who missed the original personality of the local cafe.

Maybe I'm being silly, but it sure does make me sad to see a place like that begin to sell out. I suppose they have to cater to the crowd with the most money--and being voted best place to talk business, I guess they're no longer trying to appeal to the hip local college students any more.

Le sigh. Such is life.

(That's Arabic slang for "cool")

I'm sitting at a table at a restaurant in JFK waiting for my breakfast. My flight back to Buffalo isn't for another 5-ish hours.

There is so much I want to say about the past ten days. About the beauty of the land, and the people, about the food and the customs, about the history, the stories-- so many stories-- I was told, and the feelings I had seeing the Mediterranean Sea with my own eyes, and touching the Western Wall, and driving through the West Bank... And also about having a fever my second night in Jerusalem, and pretty much being too sick to enjoy 50% of the end of the trip, and the peak bonding times with my fellow travelers.

But I think I'll wait to do that tomorrow, when I can take the day to reflect after a good night's sleep in my own bed, beside my beloved, surrounded by my kittehs. Also, there will be pictures that way.

Sababa? Sababa.

4. A favorite deity or archetype you use in your spiritual work.

My work with deities has fluctuated quite a bit over the years. It is my belief that there is no separate being that is more godly than another, that each of us is god-energy in physical form, and that the greater part of us is, in fact, god-energy still in non-physical form, too. And I say "god" without a gender implication--I think divinity is beyond the physical, and beyond duality. But, that being said, I think there will always be quite a lot about god-energy that we in our physical forms will never be able to really comprehend, and so we have to quantify and personify and compartmentalize a lot of the aspects of our own divinity and the workings of the universe so that we can have some grasp of It All. So, when I work with deities, it is from that standpoint. I do believe that the energy is real and really communicating and interacting with me, but it is my belief that when I work with, say, Artemis, I'm working with a collective of god-energy that is akin to my feelings about her and her wisdom.

Artemis was huge for me when I was in my Maiden and Maiden-warrior phase of life, but her energy hasn't been necessary for some time. Now that I'm basically into the Mother phase of my life (I think the maiden phase is always there, a little bit), I have actually had quite an affinity for Mary. This strikes me as odd because I have never been raised anything close to Christian or Catholic, in fact I identify more with my father's Jewish heritage than my mother's Episcopal, and I also spent a lot of time in my angrier, less-understanding youth kind of thinking anything associated with Jesus was stupid. But when I work with Mary I feel so fucking loved. Like, tears-to-my-eyes, nothing-can-hurt-me, look-at-how-amazing-the-world-is kind of love, and joy. And still I feel like I want to work more deeply with her, to understand her story. I'm hoping to reconnect with my deities this fall and winter, so hopefully I'll get the chance to communicate more with her in detail.

(As an aside, kind of, Jared and I watched the first part of a movie called "Zeitgeist" the other day, where they discuss, essentially, how Jesus's story is the same as hundreds of legends that came before him, based on stories we've told by the stars for thousands of years. This is something I've known for a long time, but it got me thinking though: who is the "virgin mother" really? Why is she a constant in these stories? Why is she called "virgin?" I must look into this further!)

Male female balance in my "worship" is important to me, too, and comes rather naturally. I've work a lot with Hermes and Ganesh in the past, and Ganesh is still someone I smile at every day (I keep his statue at my cubicle at work, he helps to dispel the negativity). But my main male figure is actually something more like a spirit guide, which, seeing as how I believe spirit is god-energy too, makes me think of him as a deity for this question's sake. I call him Malcom, because I realized a character in one of my books by the same name was modeled after him. I've been seeing him in dreams and in my head since I was a very little girl. I can communicate with him any time, easy as pie. He always knows the answers to my questions. He is the wisdom I have but often can't access when I need it most.

5. An animal you identify with spiritually.
Crows are big for me. I have three of them tattooed on my ribs. To me they are magical, otherworldly things. They represent the kind of grounded-yet-free state of being that I strive for, creatures that seem to shift between worlds and yet remain anchored. As a writer, I'm always striving for that balance--how to stay grounded and let myself float off into my imagination at the same time. Crows embody that capacity to me, and I don't really know why.

I also love pigeons. They're tenacious, brave, excellent communicators, and can always find their way home :)

6. A photo of a magical place outdoors.



The Sahara Desert in Morocco. I think the most alive day/night of my life was there. Everything was thrilling--sound, touch, taste, smell, and dear gods the sights... it gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. I love the desert.


( The Questions )