Say Hello To Me When You See Me

Kitty-chan Shrine

(Photo credit: kalupa)

Hail and well met, Catherine the White,
Called Kitty, Lady of the Five Apples,
She Who Wears the Bow,
Sister of Mimmy, Beloved of Dear Daniel,
I bid you bring your influence
Into my life, your simple pleasures,
Your joys and happiness.
In return I offer myself
As your paw in the wide world
Speaking where you cannot
To bring that same joy to others.
Grant me the strength of heart
To be kind to those who need kindness
And silent when my words do no good.

moving on

Sidekick Ex Machina

F is for Fwoosh

Fwoosh.

Fwoosh.

Fwoosh is that moment when it all gets away from you. When the fire leaps up higher than your eyebrows. When you look up and realize you actually have no idea where you are. When the magic stops being something you’re completely in control of and starts being a thing of its own accord. When you’re no longer a bunch of people in a circle and instead you’re a cohesive group working together.

Fwoosh is letting go, because something you build can only become greater than you if you step back and see what happens. Fwoosh is giving up control and trusting the groundwork you’ve laid.

Fwoosh is my favorite part of magic. It’s the rush that got me addicted in the first place. I spend so much of my life overthinking, controlling, holding on for dear life. Finding that place where the story or the spell takes over and I’m just along for the ride is a work unto itself.

That’s the thing about fwoosh. It’s in the act of letting go that you generate the most power. It seems counter-intuitive, but I’ve found it to be true.

Divination Deck: Earth, Hard-Type

2012-06-03 10.59.57

new growth on the backs of the old

Writing in order didn’t exactly work for me – probably because once I got past the obvious continuations of the one I pulled to start, I didn’t know where to go next. Back to the drawing board, I suppose. Or the draw pile.

So what card did I draw? The element of Earth, in its hard-type form. All of the hard-type element cards represent those Gods of the Outside, multidimensional beings who became trapped in the three-dimensional world and had to decide what to do about it. They vacillate between incredible power and startling weakness, but are always dangerous.

The Outsider of Earth doesn’t play as much of a role as his brothers and sisters, and there is a good reason for that: he’s long-dead, his body and power cannibalized by his sons to create the civilization of Lemuria. They decided that the treatment of humans could not go on as it was and sought to do better by them.

His sons would argue that he sacrificed himself willingly. His siblings believe that his sons are liars and schemers. Which is true? The Outsider’s not talking.

I’ve never been given a proper name for him, but I refer to him as Ymir and the meaning is carried clear through that choice, I think. This association works well – Ymir is associated by some scholars with the Germanic Tuisto, which is cognate with the Vedic Tvastr. Tvastr is called “chariot-maker” or Rathakara, and it was the sacrifice of the Outsider of Earth that allowed his sons to train the first human ratha to accept them as riders.

In a reading, this card suggests that the situation runs deeper than it appears and that motivations may be unclear. If it’s clarifying a present situation, you should ask more questions and question your assumptions. If it’s in the future, keep an eye out for cracks in the bedrock. If it’s in the past, you may wish to reconsider the light the past casts onto the present.

E is for Exhausted

As in, I am.

Two jobs, plans for Project Fishie, therapy, hobbies, religious writing, my regular practice and the illusion of a social life… I suppose maybe it’s understandable that I’m tired.

Exhaustion can easily lead to letting things slide in the name of efficiency. The problem lies in not thinking about what you are choosing to drop. Some things, like religious devotion, are easy to drop without even realizing you’re doing it. No matter how tired you are, it makes sense to really think about what you’re letting go of and what you’re holding on to.

As in anything else, the value is in the choice.

An Author Question

So I’ve been playing with the Kindle Direct Countdown option, because I like having sales, and in honor of Ash Wednesday my novel about Secret Vatican Demon Hunters trying to stop the end of the world is on sale for $.99! You can grab Sic Transit Fidei over here on Amazon. (Please let me know if it’s not showing up as on sale! I’ve never done this kind of promotion before.)

Has anyone else tried any of the Kindle Direct Publishing shinies?

The Open Door

I’d left before, though I didn’t tell him that. I knew the feeling of being outside of myself. What I didn’t know, I told him truthfully, was how to choose to leave. I wanted to follow him and I didn’t know how.

He nodded. “I want you to sit for me.”

“Just sit?”

“Sit quietly, relaxed, not thinking, the way you practice at the end of your ballet lessons.”

I did as he said, trying not to think too much about what I was doing.

“Imagine that your body is a hollow space, like a car that you drive around in. Picture yourself in that space.”

I nodded and closed my eyes. The image that came to me was of a large, empty space with a high, curved ceiling. There seemed to be lights above and in front of me.

“Where in your body are you?”

I knew the answer without having to think about it. “My head.”

I couldn’t see him nodding but I heard the acknowledgement that I’d said what he expected. “There are different places you can see yourself. For some people it’s the chest or the stomach.”

“Should I try to be somewhere else?”

“No. Where you are is just a reflection of where you’re comfortable. For now we’re just working on something else.”

“Okay.”

“Now I want you to imagine yourself still in that space, taking a look around. Look specifically for a door, and you should find one. Do you see it?”

I did, at the back of the space, away from the lights. My door, when I saw it, was of carved wood with simple geometric patterns shaped in it. If he’d asked, I could have told him it was the back of my head.

“Walk over to the door and take the handle. Brace yourself and then try imagining yourself opening it.”

The door handle was cut glass like my bedroom doorknob and it shone bright when I reached my hand out to it.

“Now step through it.”

Beyond the door was blackness and nothing else, and I hesitated.

Finally he asked, “Is something wrong?”

Too embarrassed to answer, I threw myself into the void.

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