Godspousery Notes: Hanging in like a cat on a window screen.

 The last several months have been challenging. I'm doing my best to just get through the day but it's pretty hard when you're not sleeping well. I've been having problems with onset and terminal insomnia (that is difficulty falling asleep and waking up too early). This has been an issue since August of last year. I am exhausted most of the time and very irritated that I don't have the energy to do all the things that I need to in order to keep the household running, let alone do the other stuff that I want to.

Freyr keeps telling me have a plan. I come up with a plan and he tells me to scale it back. Step and repeat. He's of the opinion that I keep demanding too much from myself on a regular basis. He's not wrong. I'd like to argue with him on it but I can't because he's not wrong.

Loki keeps telling me to slow down and rest. Which sounds really weird because I'm running at half speed and taking regular naps (which is probably not helping the sleep problem). But, Flame-Hair and Freyr keep conspiring together to try to raise my spirits. A rando plant that a neighbor gave me 10 years ago has suddenly burst into bloom and according to what I can learn, it's an orchid of some variety. Some random bits of good luck have come along to cheer me up. A major bit of random good luck came along to keep us safe when the EF0 tornado basically passed about a football field away from us.

Loki tends to look over my shoulder at my plans for the day and tell me that half of the list can wait for the next day. It's exasperating. But, it's probably accurate. It took me most of last week and a major meltdown to get the dishes done. It is looking like it's going to be just as hard to get the laundry taken care of. This is all simple housework that I should be managing on a daily basis but I just struggle to find the energy. It's exhausting. 

They keep telling me to rest. I'm not good at that. I keep pushing myself until something goes haywire and then I feel all guilty about it because that was how I was raised to do things. Not allowed to rest until all of the work is done. Try to rest before all of the work is done, there's going to be a horrific consequence for it. It sucked as I was a kid, let me tell you. But, I'm trying to take things slow and pace myself. Just doing the best I can and hanging in like that cat on a window screen with all claws deployed.

Egregore project update.

 My life has become so disordered that I only know that the moon is waning and I've no idea what sign it is in or how far along it is in waning. We're not officially at drought status but if things keep being weird, we may hit it. We're in the Filianic month of Rosea (officially we are on the 7th day of Rosea). It's been a weird bit of time since my last post. My brain tried to go 'splody again and I'm sleeping real badly. I am trying to get things back onto an even keel but it's proving challenging.

Which brings me to the Egregore project. The doll contained in the jar is the charged object for the egregore to inhabit. It was in a black velvet bag and things kinda went haywire on the magical front. The egregore wanted some visibility and for me to stop avoiding it. I recognized that there was enough volatile, chaotic energy in it that I had to contain it. The times I left the doll out in the open, weird things that were generally triggering my c-ptsd kept happening. 

The glass jar is a compromise. The doll gets seen and acknowledged with a prominent place on the desk as the jar contains some of that energy that is pent up in it. I haven't done a conversation with the egregore in a while because I just haven't been up to it. It has been lurking, waiting for me to work with it again. As we hit the dark phase of the moon this month, I'm going to attempt another conversation. I'll post it up here like I did the last one. (Because my book of shadows is a mess and I have no where to put the transcripts right now.)

Now, the contrast between the doll and myself is dramatic. The doll, however, is a very accurate representation of how my younger self viewed themselves. If I were able to find a dark haired Cinderella with her apron and kerchief, it would have been perfect. Still, you work with what you have. The egregore is designed to access buried memories and repressed emotions. There's a lot of ugly stuff beneath the surface due to the high degree of trauma that I experienced when I was younger. The goal of the work with the egregore is to process this stuff.

It's gotten complicated as my trauma responses went into overdrive last August and my brain tried to go 'splody. This has also delayed the active work with the egregore. So, I know that the next few weeks are going to be interesting on the magical front. 

Godspousery Notes: Touched by Freyr

 Some days, some times, I don't feel them with me. But they leave a trail of evidence that's impossible to deny. In the case of Freyr, virtually every plant that can bloom in my home is blooming right now. Including one that I've owned for ten years and had nary a bud before now. Baby plants are forming off of other plants that have been relatively dormant. The 'indoor jungle' (as Beloved calls it) is lush and beautiful. It's not my green thumb. It's Freyr. 

I just give the plants water and hope they don't die. He has laid his hand upon them and they're flourishing. To the point that I am going to need to figure out how to repot half of them. The outside gardens are doing just as well despite the fact that we're edging closer to drought. All these green babies are love notes and encouragement for me to keep pushing on because life will find away.

Godspousery Notes: Story time with Loki

 One night, during my recent bout of hypomania, Loki decided to tell me a story to help me sleep. He started it off by saying, "I am the Lie-Smith, therefore this is Schrodinger's tale. No one knows if it is true or not." I drolly answered with "Isn't that true with half of your stories?" His rejoinder: If that were the case only a quarter of what I tell you would be truth until it was all lies. I muttered something about turtles but he told me to stop talking and go to sleep.

So, I shut up and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. Then Loki told me this story.

'Once, in Midgard, no light was seen but that of Sòl. There were the stars and Máni at night, but it was not half so bright as day. And so it remains. (At this point I interrupted him with 'Wow, that's a short story.' I was told to shut up and go to sleep.) The days were warm but the nights were bitterly cold. My grandchild, He who Mocks, ran mightily until he overtook Sòl for a time. 

The Day-Star's Mistress was quite worried. He who Mocks, however, spoke to her.

"Have you no regard for the poor creatures of the nine worlds who shiver bitterly when you put your horses abed?"

She looked briefly from her course to Midgard and saw places where ice remained despite her cargo's brilliant light and warmth. In them, she saw man struggling to keep warm. She thought of her own child and pitied them, for were they not some mother's child as well?

"There's nothing I can do, wolf," Sòl said, "I must drive this chariot through the skies of the nine worlds lest there be eternal darkness."

He who Mocks was not pleased with this answer. "Such a fine mother you are to keep your own child warm at your breast as you ride high. Yet a poor daughter for you have forgotten your father in chill Midgard and abandoned him and your mother to it."

Sòl grew irate with this comment and said bitterly, "Wolf, you know I have no choice in this. I bear a spark of Muspelheim in this wain. If it were to fall to Midgard, all would turn to ash as surely as if Surtur came in his wrath." He who Mocks regarded Sòl and then ran off. As light again grew bright upon the nine worlds, He who Mocks stopped chasing his quarry for a time.

He who Mocks ran along the secret ways of the World Tree to Muspelheim. At the gate he met Sinmara, Muspelheim's great queen. She frowned at my grandson. "You have abandoned your solemn duty, wolf. Now the girl of Midgard who guides the Day-Star will become lazy and wander."

"I shall resume chase in a little while, Lady, but I ask for a spark of your fire, a tiny one. That I might baffle Sòl in the chase." Sinmara thought a while. She was wise, as her husband Mimir, perhaps a little bit more for she still had her head upon her shoulders and was consort to a mighty ruler.

"Wolf, I will not give you this spark you ask for because it will cause mischief in the heavens. I will, however, give it to the one you send to me for a price. The fire of Muspelheim is beyond value and I will not see it diminished one bit for a simple folly."

He who Mocks nodded in agreement and ran away. On his way to catch up with Sòl, he passed by me. "Grandfather! Oh, Grandfather!" he cried, "Go to Sinmara and catch a spark of their fire to spread in cold Midgard." So, I took my bow and quiver of arrows, with one that I carved as I spoke with my daughter's servant one afternoon. I set off along the hidden ways, ready for danger. For it was my want to travel with Lævateinn, to keep the eagle's bane safe with me.

By and by, I reached the gate of Muspelheim and Sinmara sat waiting. She plucked Lævateinn from the quiver with her keen eye. "This is a fitting price to bring a torch to those wanting light and heat from Muspelheim. I will keep it until its time of using comes." Sinmara gave me a brand that she had been holding and I ran aloft.

The children of Midgard watched as the torch gleamed against the sky that night. The days grew warmer and through the disguise of a herdsman with his goats, I wandered through Midgard bringing fire to each family. Finally, I came to Mundilfari's home. The sad eyed father looked up at the sky where his beautiful son drove his wagon. I said to Mundilfari as I gave him the brand to light his hearth, "Where shall I set this light since I have gone all over Midgard to every hearth and forge?"

Mundilfari was a wise man. He pointed to the track I had run across the sky. "Set it there that it might be a light to remind us of warmth and the kindness you showed us." So I placed the torch where that star named Sirius burns. And there it remains until the end of days.'