Wait, wut?

Waning Crescent Blood Moon (27 Days)
Sign: Scorpio
Weather: Partly cloudy, some rain, cool
Drought Status: Moderate

So, at Loki's behest, I wrote a post wherein I directly named a being that I am uncomfortable naming this time of year. Then, I did my very best to make as much of an obvious disclaimer/warning for people not to try to play with said being. I gave him the side eye over this. He said, "Don't fear NAMES."

I have two things here that make me a bit ... bewildered. First, how did he manage to somehow speak in capital letters. It was the weirdest cross between visual psychic impression and auditory at the same time. I think this is just a case of Loki doing Loki things - namely throwing odd ball things into the mix to make me sit up and pay attention. (It gets pretty weird around here when I am head-blind.)

Second, I'm not sure why the emphasis upon not fearing names. I am pretty sure there is something more here than my reluctance to directly name one of the most fearsome terrifying spirits in my region. I mean the Wendigo is terrifying to a point where I'm even kinda uncomfortable typing it here. (I justify this by the fact that I did not say their name directly and there is a strike through it, thus obscuring the word/name somewhat. It does not make me more comfortable, though.) He has a point to this exercise and I can't quite grasp it.

Loki has been fairly chatty at odd moments over the last little while. Times when I don't expect it, like when I am in utter pain and desperately trying to concentrate on just breathing through it. He just showed up and started talking to me about how brave I was being and that it really was a much better thing to focus on breathing through the pain rather than holding my breath. He also helped me sleep by basically grabbing hold of me and dragging me down into unconsciousness whilst essentially throwing me in Freyr's direction as he goes "JUST TALK TO HIM! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

The last bit sort of makes sense. I've been feeling self conscious and like I am an imposition upon Ingvi. As a result, I've been kinda very shy. I have gone into 'If I'm quiet enough, I won't get noticed and I won't be a problem for anyone.' mode. Loki's had enough of that shit. Thus the "NOW GO TALK TO YOUR SPOUSE!" and such. Ingvi, for his part, seems somewhere between mildly annoyed and exasperated, with a dash of outrage that I feel this way (the outrage, however, is not directed at me but the situations that have taught me this coping mechanism).


Load the berth.

I'm all out of spoons right now. Please forgive my failure to note things like lunar phase, sign, and such. I am still unwell and in a lot of pain. As a result, it has made it difficult to think of much or get organized enough to do anything. I am frustrated and miserable. Also, I am anxious and terribly self conscious.

Earlier today, I was laying in bed trying to wait for my OTC medication to kick in for pain. I was perseverating on how much I was worried that I was an inconvenience and problem for Beloved. As I was sitting there quietly freaking out, Ingvi set a hand on my brow. He said to me, "What are you supposed to do with your panic when it is time to rest?" I just sort of mentally froze. I was too wrapped up in feeling badly and spiraling into panic to really get it.

He showed me an image from the dream where we first had this conversation sometime last year (I think). We were standing on a pier and his ship was moored on the left side. Beside me was a staggeringly large pile of boxes, trunks, and all other assorted forms of luggage. It represented everything from my daily worries about if the apartment was clean enough to my insecurities about how loveable I am to my even deeper issues. He picked up one of the boxes which was actually a wooden crate almost half as tall as I was. He walked over to the ship, stepped on board, and secured it in the hold. He then looked at me with a mild expression that was something between exasperation and ... I don't know, something I can't find a word for right now.

So, I began mentally boxing up my present anxieties and giving them to him. Boxes that seemed enormous and impossibly heavy, he lifted with all the ease that would come with a small box of tissues and set them in his ship. The hold did not fill up, as I worried it would. (That went into a box of its own - something that looked like an iron chest.) The ship did not seem weighted down for the cargo. To get me out of my solemness, Ingvi started whistling, singing, and generally being cheerful about it all. At one point, he actually began juggling boxes. That was what broke my very serious demeanor, by the way.

I felt myself moving into sleep as he took me by the hand and lead me to a place where I could rest with him. My pain was still present, but it did not cause me the emotional distress it was.


Burn it all down, child.

Waxing Hunter's Moon (Age: 9 Days)
Sign: Pisces
Weather: Seasonable, clearing skies
Drought Status: Severe

Sitting here trying to process everything with respect to the election. Signs of fire and disaster leading up to last night really should have been listened to more on my part. I, honestly, hoped that Trump wasn't going to get the electoral votes to secure the presidency. I was wrong. I am upset. I am deeply disturbed. And, I am angry.

I turned to Loki and asked him what the everloving fuck was going on with this result. His response was initially a rather dry 'Indeed.' Then, after a pause, he said, "Don't ascribe human stupidity to divinity." Unlike the other times where I see humans doing human things that are particularly WTF, he was not amused. He sounded tired. A good number of the other folks I know who have an active devotional relationship with Loki have been getting the same results when they inquire the same thing. This leads me to believe this is most definitely an accurate assessment of his position.

As the anger is rising in me, I note with some dark humor that Trump's victory is on the anniversary of Kristallnacht. It is a date that lives in infamy, to be honest. I now question if we will witness our very own version of this infamy in the near future. Pitchforks and torches may be the only good investment right now as all the global markets drop precipitously on the heels of Trump's victory.

One may wonder what this has to do with the meme I posted at the head of this entry. I am quietly being encouraged to hold on to my anger. I'm finding myself exhorted by so many subtle points right now (and I am pointedly avoiding active participation on social media today, I have been working on my novel instead) to hone it and forge my anger into a weapon of resistance. So, I am in the process of deciding what to do.

Fire cures everything, right? If it isn't cured, you have not applied enough fire to the problem, right?