Stalking Jackal

Update! So, as it turns out, He just wanted my attention for its own sake. We had a mango and challah bread and some strawberry lemonade (He’s currently testing chocolate soymilk, I think He doesn’t particularly care for it). He also wants a walk, ie me to go on a walk and commune with Him. I think I will, in fact, do that, since the sun is setting (Good Night Ra!) and Anpu is a god of the horizon (and it’s cooler) I think that’s a great idea. I’m not sure what we’ll talk about, if anything, but hey, we got a snack in us right? Besides, I could go for a walk and I’m not quite a walker type so I should probably take advantage of that. Off I go to figure out what I’m communing lol

 

This is one of those blog posts where I’m not sure where it’s going or what I’m trying to say, I just know I need to write or at the very least that’s what I feel like doing. I’m not sure what I’m gonna be getting at exactly here, I know I’ve got things to say about Anpu and other stuff, but mainly Him. He’s there, I know it, even if it’s not a physical feeling per se, but there is a surety that He is nearby and paying a lot of friggin attention. But there’s also the surety that He’s waiting for me. I’m not sure what He’s waiting for, but I’m sure He is. There’s something He wants to say and that I should be doing, but so far I’ve little inkling what that thing is. Yesterday I wrote a blog post about the dream He sort of appeared in. Obviously it wasn’t His form as one might expect from statues or something, no He was the moon in this dream and literally came closer to me in the dream, specifically because I asked. That and He was staring at me last night, from the real life moon, through my window. I’m not sure what He wants though.

I’m actually certain that what He’s asking for is not more ritual, He would certainly appreciate me showing up in shrine more, but that’s not what He’s looking for right this second. Please, if anybody gets an idea, I’m open to hearing it. I’ve since figured out, both from my UPG so far in this path and other devotees of this Jackal, that He is more likely to just stare at you until you figure it out. Or perhaps, staring past you until you turn around to see what the fuck He’s looking for. This only bothers me because I’d like to go do whatever He wants and I’m not sure what it is and it’s irritating because I’m rip rarin to go and perfectly fine with getting dressed and going somewhere. And lemme tell you, I’m not the sort of person to just randomly get dressed and go somewhere by myself for no particular reason, but I’m totally ready to do that, but I’m not sure if there’s any reason to do so. Like for real, what on earth should I be getting figured out here?

I see I’m dancing around in circles here, but that’s really what’s on my brain now. What am I being asked to do here? And for heaven’s sake stop staring! Yes, I still feel like Anpu is staring at me, in front of my face, just glaring at my forehead to bother me, or on the couch across the room, staring at me while SD and his buddy work on remodeling the bathroom. If they weren’t here I’d be talking to His presence over there, wondering why He’s just looking at me so damn hard. It’s not real glaring, it’s not even particularly impatient, it is just very obvious and intense and I’m tired of Him doing it without answering with at least a nod or head shake or something. Something!

Of course, now I’m starting to think the purpose of Him doing that was just to make me recognize when He’s trying to ask me for something, considering the reason I wrote this post was because I felt like He was bugging me to do so and ask for help figuring out what He wanted. So, now I have to wonder if I’ll get real requests later lol well I asked for it, go me XD He’s still staring!

Another Dream? Absolutely!

You all knew it would happen soon, a dream post. I haven’t had a particularly interesting dream in a bit, not one I cared to blog about, but this morning was different. As all who read my lengthy posts know, and def if you know me well, you know I have very cookaloo dreams. It provides for interesting discussions and gives people laughs (see Flying Brick Whale) and certainly makes me wonder what my brain is doing in there lol I’d like to point from the start that this was an uncommon dream where the perspective was almost entirely in first person as opposed to the usual third person.

Anyway, so this dream starts off strange (as normal lol) with me, my mother, TB and probably BGF and one of my Best Friends. I remember clearly TB and Mommy, and BGF is often in my dreams. Common wavelength with him, so it’s not abnormal for me to have the sense that he was there. We were in some sort of monster fighter training, specifically zombies and Ugly Werewolves. Yes, I do differentiate from the ugly creatures purposely created by Hollywood to be frightening and vulgar from the creatures attested to in myths and legends, most of whom are just as beautiful as true wolves (and in some case more dangerous and in other cases less dangerous). Ugly Weres are typically ridiculously destructive, bloodthirsty and dangerous, only some legends support such behavior, others don’t. Since true wolves and humans don’t universally display such behavior, I tend to go with the more realistic legends about behavior. That and I adore wolves and want to be one, but that’s a discussion for another day.

We’re fighting these zombies and Ugly Werewolves and they’re both real and fabricated (don’t ask about that, I know they’re not created from real humans, I’m not sure how they’re “fabricated”). We kill them, we get tips on finding good rooms to hide in from these creatures, how to beat them back and escape from hordes. Stuff like that. Then we leave and head to this sort of camp ground. We’re going there to find someone who can let us in to the…what was it called…I don’t know, but I feel like Dreamscape is pretty accurate at this point. Now, I often incorporate my city’s public transportation into my dreams if only because that’s how I travel everywhere in real life, this dream was no exception. Trolleys and trains, as per usual, warped to some odd way that doesn’t completely obliterate realistic-ness, but definitely does twist it out of reality. We used the trolleys and bicycles to get to this campy area and searched for the person who could help us.

We found two people, a man and a woman. The man was the head of the operation for allowing people into the Dreamscape and he was willing to help us because apparently the last people he let in were mistakes and now they wouldn’t leave. We wouldn’t die there, but it wasn’t any less dangerous, because we could get stuck there since it was a body and mind transference to another plane of existence and we could still be injured. The man introduces us to a woman, she’s a little nervous because she’s inexperienced at being a portal, but she goes for it. We’re in a tree btw, like the sort of thing from Harry Potter, a little room under the roots, made roomier by the tree being a steep-ish hillside. It had two chairs, a plaid blanket, a loom (or a broken wagon wheel), and a wooden, hand carved table with a lamp.

She goes into the trance and a portal appears above her head and we enter the Dreamscape. I’m still with my mother, TB, BGF and perhaps Sister, and we’re in a space station. That particular detail may be due to the movie Lockout that I watched two nights ago, but the room did look a lot like the one we were doing our zombie fight training in. We’re looking for soldiers and probably aliens who are anthropomorphic and we surely found them. Fire fight, running, more fighting, running, plotting and prioritizing. At a certain point, I’m not sure how this came about at all, I think I may have gotten up for the bathroom and the dream restarted when I went back to bed, but now the soldiers are pressing us back and they summon a dinosaur. You read that right, a dinosaur. An orange T-Rex at that. Somehow, here’s another fuzzy part, water starts rushing in. Nobody wants this water, we’re all in this corridor with a locked door and barriers in front of us, and water swirling in to flood and drown everybody.

Now, water, generally, means emotions in dreams. My brain actually holds to this particular generalization, and lately I’ve had issues with the dam bursting on my emotions. Like, hardcore (and for one particular example absolutely random) destruction of emotional control. Back to the dream, everybody is panicking and I’m trying to get the doors open. The water rushes forth and fills the hall, even pulling in the T-Rex. Right before it gets to me and my peeps, I manage to get a set of barriers closed. Now, this is where the realism cracks and the water doesn’t stop properly. It stops in mid flow, like taking a photograph of a wave about to break, behind this barrier, which is see through. I know the barrier won’t hold for long and just manage to get the doors open as the barrier breaks and the water flows harmlessly to the next room, freeing everyone and halting all the fighting.

I decide I’ve had enough and leave. No one stops me, in fact they urge me to go and take a break and breathe. I leave the Dreamscape, seeing the woman still in her trance with the portal open. I grab a bike and head outside where I see the full moon, which is definitely tied to waking hours seeing as how the moon was shining in my window watching me from my mirror as I fell asleep. I said to it “Hello Anpu, I really wish you were closer, I would appreciate that.” Then I blinked and suddenly that was exactly what it did. The moon got huge in the sky when I blinked and I felt a burning, shimmering, tingling, energizing warmth flow through my body like a shudder and some bourbon (and btw when I saw shimmering I don’t mean glowing or light). It was amazing power, and it was intense and very palpable. Normally sensations are “hollow” and willowy in my dreams if they’re there at all, especially since I’m a touch-oriented person. Other senses are more likely to get engaged in dreams. I’ve had a dream with an intense sensation like this before, and it was absolutely started by a spirit (My spirit guide to be exact) whom I actually physically saw when I got half awake for a moment because of how thoroughly strong the physical feeling of the dream was. I’ll post it later, I promise (unless I already talked about it somewhere lol).

As this power floated through me, I started to fly up into the air. I have mixed feelings about heights, especially as the energy got stronger and my anxiety got thrown in. I’m pretty sure the same break in dream awareness that happened in the other dream happened again, but for a much briefer time, like just a flash of black before the vivid dream was back. Something I’d barely notice, like a screen flicker or a flame flicker. I remember taking a deep breath as I got pulled higher into the air, the fiery energy intensifying and burning, but it wasn’t painful, it was electrifying. I can’t remember if I said anything, I’m pretty sure I didn’t, but there was a thought, I can’t remember, something about said Jackal’s power and I was dropped down, quickly but safely. I’m not sure what to make of this. I was relieved and disappointed at being put down, but I got back on my bike and headed for the trolleys.

I remember the moon disappearing from the dream after that. The trolleys were interesting because they were crossing tracks in a weird way. The trolley I was aiming for was further up the road while the one I came to was right in front of my face, but they both ran on the same track up to that point. There were train tracks in the distance, which I contemplated going for, if only because they crossed even further up the road, but I knew the trolley I wanted would get me closer to the house than the other trolley or train. It took me a few minutes to figure out which direction I was trying to go, but eventually I found it even though I was nearly assaulted and nearly run over by the other trolley. It wasn’t really that serious, more like people thought I was an easy target and backed down when witnesses and my weapon came out to party. I got on the trolley of my choice, a tad confused what I should do with the bike (which disappeared in a sense) and was calm and comfortable, looking at my hands over something and woke up soon after.

There’s the interesting dream of the week! I had more to say about other subjects, but I no longer feel like writing about them lol I’ll do another post later XD

Cracked

So, I’ve been at my parents’ house for the past week. Mommy and SD (that would be “step dad”) went on vacation for a week and I house sat because there’s this chunky, spoiled, six-year-old cat whom I love and it was a perfect opportunity to have some privacy, some quiet, a break from being Auntie Rae, and some alone time with Boyfriend. It was a pretty great week, only a couple hiccups. Boyfriend and I actually didn’t argue, though there was a disagreement, followed by an extremely odd and traumatic breakdown from me (yeah, I seem to be prone to those this summer, and people wonder why I don’t like the heat). Boy has it been hot this summer. I hate heat, can’t fucking stand it. I despise being hot more than anything in the world. As an asthmatic, I’m sensitive to all extreme temperatures, that and I just don’t like said extremes, but summer also holds the slam of all of my allergies, spring notwithstanding. Heat and humidity give me a sensation like that of an asthma aggravation without the asthma actually flaring. I do not like being sweaty or sticky (triggers my intense, three steps short of OCD, wish to be PERFECTLY CLEAN) and heat makes me nauseated and cranky, and dizzy and triggers headaches much faster in me than in those around me. It drains me quickly, even faster than cold. I feel sick just walking out the door into it. Basically, I’m sick all summer, and this bullshit has happened to me for years. It got in the way of soccer when I was a kid, of fully enjoying camp, the beach, camping as a teen and young adult. Heat is just aggravating. And most of the time it isn’t dehydration, because I drink plenty of water (which I also don’t like very much) as well as juices. I’ve long since learned not to drink soda or coffee (which can be a major bitch since coffee also helps relieve mild asthma flare-ups) and it’s not usually that it’s hunger. It’s that my body just does not like fucking heat and neither does my consciousness because I’m also a hypochondriac so I’m sure I’m not helping myself.

Now that the useless rant about heat and my hatred for it is over, back to the ramble about my life. If you read my last post Breaking you know I had a catastrophic breakdown after an intense argument with Boyfriend and a comfort session with BGF. Like I said above, I had a baffling meltdown this week. Boyfriend can usually understand and handle (or at least handle) my head case moments, but this was a bit different. It really was only a mild disagreement, there wasn’t much said on either side, definitely not anything worth getting truly angry or upset over. He went upstairs to cool off a bit and the tumbling down the WTF road started. Honestly I wasn’t feeling that great before the disagreement, that’s likely why it even happened. When I don’t feel well, be it mentally or physically, I get kinda crabby. The kicker is that I can’t verbalize the problem very easily, if at all. “I don’t feel well” is a catch-all phrase for me. Between my naturally argumentative nature, anxiety-driven combativeness, and the random mental and physical malaise I get into a lot of arguments and disagreements.

Anyway, I wasn’t feeling well before the disagreement. I don’t know why. I was just feeling tired and just…not right. It wasn’t “sad” or anything, just, unhappy and off. Nothing happened to make me feel this strange unhappiness or whatever it was, because unhappiness isn’t the correct word to describe my brain space. Somber, morose, distressed, are closer to what the problem was. Unfortunately these episodes of distress pop up suddenly and more often than I care for, usually with no clear cause and sometimes quite suddenly and unexpectedly. I could literally be laughing and having great fun and then when I calm down, bam, feeling like I could crawl in a corner and cry for no reason or dig a hole and disintegrate. Sometimes I want to disintegrate. I feel like I am disintegrating sometimes, like my sanity and world are crashing around me and falling apart and like I’m fracturing and melting. And no one else knows what’s happening, they just know I’m suddenly not happy, or upset, or cranky, or tired, or a combination thereof. They can’t see they’re on the shards of my mind that are sagging and floating around, swirling in a black sea.

I’m not even sure if I’m really conveying what I’ve actually felt. It seems so much like depression the way I’ve described it, but these episodes have a way of seeming light and dark at the same time. That damned stormy gray that’s so ugly and harmful because it lingers like a parasite. It’s very dense, but not very deep, and that’s what separates it from the true depression I’ve had in the past. I feel like my mind is expanding in water, like an oil bubble. This is what I was feeling before this disagreement, and afterward. In fact, I’m often this way after arguments, doesn’t matter who they’re with, but they tend to be strongest after ones with TB or my mom. Though with my mother there’s usually anger mixed in.

After the disagreement, TB went upstairs to cool off, mainly to prevent the disagreement from turning into a full-blown argument. I was cooking dinner, so I didn’t chase him, like I normally would, to try to “work out” said problem. I’m a contradiction in that I often don’t like talking about problems after they’re over, I like to try to solve them right away. You’d think I would be flip-flop since I’m intellectually aware that such logic rarely works, but I’m intellectually aware of a lot of things, doesn’t stop me or my brain from doing stupid shit. When he went upstairs, the anxiety started. It’s not the heart-racing, kind. It isn’t the “I’m aware this is stupid kind”. It’s the sort you get when you’re lost as a kid from your parents or older sibling, it’s the fear when your friend goes missing, it’s the terror when you just saw someone die and you’re next; however, it’s right before the panic sets in, before you truly realize that you’re in deep shit and the heart racing starts. I texted him to come back downstairs, because I was getting to the point of a panic attack. I’ve only had one once, and I actually cannot remember why, I just remember I wasn’t particularly happy about it.

He did, thankfully, but he was reasonably confused, because he expected me to have something to say when he came down. When he did, he asked what I wanted, and I didn’t really have an answer. I didn’t know what I was saying or trying to say, I just let him know I wanted him down here with me. He’s learned that I’m not always rational or reasonable and that I’m usually far from both. I distinguish between rationality and logical, because you can very much be one without the other. I’m usually logical. He didn’t really ask much else, just gave me the “ok….?” look and went to watch Futurama. I finished cooking, and went into the livingroom with every intention to say something and explain myself, but I couldn’t. I never know why, but sometimes I just can’t start talking, even though my brain is going a mile a minute with all sorts of stuff to say and ways to say it and projected outcomes, both good and bad.

I lay down on the other couch and essentially stared at him for like twenty minutes. Part of it was that I really hate Futurama. I have some tolerance for Family Guy, and a very tiny, miniscule amount for Robot Chicken, but Futurama makes me ill. I hate it, it annoys me, it aggravates me, it nauseates me. The other part was that I was trying really hard to shove my thoughts in his head so he could help me. I actually do this a lot. I can’t convey my thoughts and feelings, so I try really hard to shove them into a person’s head, usually TB or BGF, sometimes my other friends or something, and I actually get mad that they can’t read my mind. It would make life so much easier, theirs and mine, if they could just look into my head when I’m acting like a cookaloo. Because then we could fucking DO something about it and they would understand what’s wrong with me and perhaps give me better words for it.

Meanwhile, he has no idea what to do or say or ask because I’m not even sure I know what’s going on much less what to tell him. I try my best to give him tools to help me, but I really am not sure. I’m laying on this couch practically glaring at him as my brain also brings up these dangerous thoughts about the knives and scissors and how my second story window would hardly be a dangerous jump beyond breaking a bone. Eventually I asked him to put the food away and fled upstairs because I didn’t trust myself down there anymore, much less in the kitchen with said knives and scissors.

I went and got in bed, stuck with my thoughts on autopilot and bashing myself for being stupid and weird and crazy and being mad at him that he couldn’t read my mind and didn’t try and comfort me (like that would’ve been easy for anyone to figure out) and didn’t try and read my mind and didn’t come after me, then it was back to how stupid and awful I was and blah blah and death thoughts for like fifteen minutes before TB came upstairs. He of course still had no idea what the hell was wrong and why I wasn’t talking and what to do about it. Part of the problem is that I curl up literally and figuratively when I’m not happy and it seems like I don’t want to be approached and I feel unapproachable. The fact that I’m often conflicted about what I want people to do doesn’t help, but it’s a safe bet that I probably need at least an arm or a touch unless I make it clear I don’t want it. Which it can seem like I’m doing, frustratingly enough. You kinda have to approach me like I’m an injured animal, which is probably something like what he was doing.

I started crying at this point. Well, I’d been crying for at least five minutes before I was aware that he was upstairs. I’m actually not sure when exactly he was upstairs during all this. I’m estimating times. But he got in bed next to me, far away so that we weren’t touching. And I was angry he did that. I wanted him to touch me and hug me and comfort me and protect me from myself, but he just wasn’t sure what I needed or that I even wanted that, after all it’s not like I said very much. But I was angry nonetheless that he didn’t, part of that has to do that I’ve never really explained that I always want him to come after me. If I’m upset and walk away or leave the room, I really want to be followed and hugged or something, even if I started whatever got me upset. Though usually, I don’t go anywhere if I started it. When he started to rub my arm and back I actually grabbed and yanked him close (or tried, he is stronger than I am), telling him rather roughly to “come here”. He did, much to my relief, wrapping his arm around me and eventually I turned around and sobbed all over him. He was shirtless too, that couldn’t have been fun, ya know, ignoring the unfunness of his girlfriend bursting into tears for no discernible reason.

He eventually got me to calm down, and tried to get an explanation out of me, but I really didn’t know what to tell him, what the problem was, what started all of it. Sure, I could tell him what got and kept it going after it started, but the reason all of that stuff came up in the first place and why I burst into tears? I really and truly am not sure. I mean, what do you really tell someone after an episode like that? What do you tell them is the why when the why isn’t there and all you have is what happened during that made it worse? And when the during makes absolutely no sense because there was not only nothing to trigger it, but nothing that contributed to it either? What do you tell someone when the next day you’re mostly stable? There is no explanation that’ll give them peace of mind or understanding or anything to go by to at least predict, much less prevent, another traumatic experience. How do you explain how or why a mind cracks?

Breaking

I was gonna get on here and rant about an argument I had with my boyfriend. I was gonna detail the conversation I had with my best friend and detail all the poorly formed thoughts and feelings about my boyfriend and the argument and how much I love him and why he’s so wonderful and awful and drives me crazy and makes me love him more. I was going to do that, but I won’t. 

It’s not a privacy concern, Boyfriend doesn’t read the blog and few of my friends actually do. No, it’s more because reiterating all of that, an hour and a half’s worth of conversations, is ridiculous and time consuming and emotionally draining. I’m already very drained, after all I’m not very good at reigning in my emotions. Instead, I’m going to talk about my gods and what happened after venting to my friend and getting comfort after the argument.

I pray a lot. Perhaps not everyday, or particularly formally or piously, but i pray a lot. I enjoy talking to my gods. I went upstairs to put shorts on. I’m a woman living among women, we don’t always wear pants, but shorts are generally recommended. I really only went upstairs to grab my shorts and phone charger. But I saw my mini shrine. I tried to ignore it, but it was there calling rather insistently. So, I decided to heed that and it took every ounce of strength not to just collapse. You ever been that unaware of how tired and frustrated you are and how much you need to talk that when you go to get down on your knees that it takes more strength to avoid just falling in a heap?

Today was one of those days. I haven’t had one in a long time, not in at least two years, before i decided to become pagan. And I let everything out. It was hardly coherent, in fact I repeated the same thing over and over, but I’m pretty They got what the problem was and what i was asking (begging really) for. It wasn’t pretty either, I was essentially sobbing. Ever done that? I use the word in my writing, but you never really consider that people actually do some of these words, like trudging or sneering, and in this case sobbing.

I stayed there for several minutes until my eyes were sore and my sinuses were completely blocked and my head was fracturing in pain and pressure. I forced myself to stop and it really took effort. Collecting yourself after breaking apart in front of anyone is hard, especially if you’re begging for help. Doing so in front of deities is harder, if only because you’re likely to shatter more in front of them. I was so tired that i contemplated just sleeping on the floor.

I went downstairs afterwards, to let my puppy in from the yard and put a couple things away. Said puppy actually went ahead of me into the living room as if to show me something. Since i had been asking for some sign that the Jackals were there and listening, it was a bit interesting. I started upstairs again, thinking puppy would follow, but he sat down and huffed at me. He’s always allowed upstairs and usually follows quickly, so this was abnormal. I sat on the steps and pet and hugged him, even let him get in my face and whatnot which I normally don’t do because he’s a sixty pound puppy. When i got up, he still didn’t follow me upstairs, he went into his cage. No idea why. I just needed to sleep in my room near my shrine.

It was effort not to get back on the floor and light the candles that represent Them. I wanted to before i went to sleep, but of course that’s not safe. Needs safer alternative. I’m still not thoroughly stable, but I’m reasonably sure I won’t burst into tears unprovoked. I just feel shaky and unsure and off balance and crazy and foolish and tired. I’m tired of this all, of the same bullshit problems and problems in my brain and body from high school and college. I’m tired of feeling batshit crazy half the time and in limbo between sanity and craziness the other half. I’m tired of fighting with my boyfriend and not knowing how to fix the problems that I’m bringing to the table and how to help him feel safe enough to work on his or just recognize that it’s not a bad thing to be “unhealthy” mentally.

Most of all I just want to hear my gods voices with some frikkin comfort or a hug or something just really obvious saying “hey! We’re here, we care, and things will be alright.” I don’t want to break things off, I refuse it, but things can’t keep going how they are. I’m just tired. How can a twenty year old be so tired? My emotions drain me dry and I crack under the pressure of being a young adult and trying to worm my way into the world while still being part of several people’s support systems, and all of them are like me, ie in need of specific professional help from nice people in white.

What does this all mean? Is there even a point here to all this suffering? It’s not like I’m the only one in my inner circle who suffers. Most of my best friends suffer from some sort of problem. Depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder. My best friend I vent to the most literally cannot remember most of his life before he turned 14. How is that for fucked up? Boyfriend tries hard to forget his childhood, were you to hear his stories you’d call it abuse. The bipolar friend got into drugs for a little while and had to repeat a year of college. One depressed friend ended up in the psych ward during high school and her parents sure don’t win the parenting award. My parents don’t either.

If i actually told someone in authority half the things that go through my head I’d have been in and out of psych wards for the last three years. Instead I tell my friends, who understand exactly what I’m going through and been there and back. Or we help each other while both go through the ringer. But why do we have to hurt like this in the first place? Why do we have to hurt so much and so damn hard? Why do we have to burn? What did we do in a past life to endure so much pain in this one?

I don’t know. I just know it hurts and I can’t leave or be left to burn in the dark. I won’t leave any of them to hurt alone, but i know i don’t want to add to the pain. I love them too much, they all drive me crazy but I love them more. Is that sick? That i love their insanity as much as i love them? It’s part of them, it’s part of me since I’m crazy too. But if i were to leave them my heart would break. It would be destroyed. If i ever lost one of my friends or my boyfriend, i really would break apart.

Minty Fresh

A couple of things happened today that I’d like to talk about. First, I’m in pain >.> oh the joys of being a woman, as the month goes and the moon fades and grows, here comes the special flow -_- That’s one thing down. I’d also like to be proud of myself for making natron today. What’s natron you ask? Well it’s this stuff made of salt and baking soda, it’s a purifying substance found naturally in the desert near Egypt. To make it, you dump equal portions of said ingredients into 1.5x’s the amount of water (so, if you put in one cup of salt and one cup of baking powder, you put in three cups of water) and you boil it and stir. And stir. Keep stirring. Stir some more. Don’t stop cuz you’ve got about thirty more minutes to go. Until it rather suddenly goes blurble, bubble, gurgle, and it thickens to the consistency of oatmeal. Or however thick it gets by the time you turn the fire off after the startling transformation from irritating boiling liquid depositing a nice coat of salt and bicarbonate on your pot to globs. Then, you dump it on a cookie sheet (which is not easy, it’s like hard mashed potatoes, you can’t just pour that shit like milk and mine looks very lumpy) and either stick it in the oven on low heat or sit it somewhere to cool for days. Since I live with non-pagans who would probably not be happy (or at least give me the super WTF face and wonder why I’m using the baking ingredients) with my experiments in holy crumblies, I popped that sucker in the oven. On medium heat, though I’ll be honest that was an accident. It’s now in my room, hiding under my table that serves as a shrine and rents book space on the shelf it has.

But yeah, natron 😀 I need to find a suitable container for it lol

The other thing I did today, was clean house, energetically. I’m kinda proud of myself, combined a couple ideas given to me by the kindly people at The Cauldron and Kemetic Interfaith Network, and went about it. Did pretty well I think. I certainly feel better, though my blood loss is causing me discomfort. If that weren’t there I’d probably feel pretty good. Alas, can’t always have cake and eat it too (coincidentally there is cake in the house and I ate some XD). At least it wasn’t a lie lol What I did, was I made some mint tea, though I didn’t add any sugar or anything, put some sea salt in it, asked Anpu to bless it, “charged” it with focused intent and put it in a spray bottle. Then I asked Anpu for help clearing the house’s energy and placating the family ghosts so that they’d understand that I’m not trying to diss them or anything and that I’m not doing anything harmful to my soul’s health. And to help them move on if they want and need to. Then I lit His candle from my altar and walked around the house spraying the rooms, windows and doors all throughout the house while praying. “May Anpu’s love protect this house and keep malevolence out.” I even did the skylight in the bathroom. Then I vacuumed the entire house and mopped the bathroom floor lol I think I didn’t do too shabby :3

There was other stuff I wanted to talk about, but I can’t remember, and as such, I’m off to lay down because I have a headache. Have a great day people!

It Just Can’t Be Easy Can It?

So, today I decided I’d pull out my tarot cards. I haven’t bothered them in ages, and I was feeling better than my post from a couple of days ago. See here for details. Anyway, I take the cards out, bring them downstairs, only to notice that one of the cards is severely stained.

This is the most damaged card…

I start separating to see how many other cards have been damaged, only to find that they’re stuck together. Three stuck together, two stuck together, four stuck together. In total, fourteen cards were stuck together. The one above is my Seven of Pentacles. The second most damaged card is Four of Swords. which was completely stuck. It was like they were one card. The others were only stuck at a corner, maybe two, though one set was stuck at three. But, they were severely damaged when pulled apart.

Here’s the Four of Swords. I had to pen the title at the bottom because I could barely read the original text

To say I’m upset is an understatement. I have no idea what happened to them. I bought a box for their safekeeping and that box seems to have turned on me, because that purple stain on the first card is from said box’s lining. These are the beautiful Shadowscapes Tarot deck and I’m very upset they’ve been damaged, especially because I have no money to replace them. It sucks. As an added bonus they cards ended up warped, though that’s been mostly remedied by a solid book and change jar. I just don’t understand why Tarot cards seem to hate me. I did a spread with them, despite their state, a spread I read about in this blog article to try and figure out what the Deck Spirit is like and what it’s good and not good at.

I know these aren’t great pictures, but the cards are a tad on the large side. The vertical column of three is supposed to be the Deck Spirit’s personality, while the center card is what the deck is good at and the end card is what it’s bad at. The two extra cards making a second row are clarification cards for the center “What I’m good at” card. I’ll tell you what each card is.

At the very top in the personality column is the Nine of Wands. The card under it is the Ten of Cups, followed by the Two of Pentacles. This suggestions a bit of a jovial spirit, one who is vigilant and flexible.

The center card which says what the deck is good at is the Two of Swords. Completely baffled here as the booklet says this card represents a stalemate, an impasse, and a denial of truth. I’m not sure what this means. Perhaps it’s good for conflicts? Or perhaps a conflict somewhere in me or the house (and its spirits) or the Deck Spirit(s) blocks its power? I have no idea.

The card which says what the deck isn’t good at is the Three of Wands. Now, the booklet’s description of this card reads as follows: “Explore, seek out the uncharted, expand your horizons. Take a long view of situations, and express leadership.” I really don’t know what this says about what the deck is bad at. Perhaps it’s not good for seeing the future?

Now, the clarification cards I pulled for the Two of Swords are the Knight of Pentacles and the Four of Cups. Once again, the booklet descriptions are not exactly the most enlightening in this context. The Knight is described as a conqueror. He knows exactly what he’s after and where it is and once he gets there he uses all the power at his disposal to take it. The Four speaks of introspection and being too deeply absorbed in oneself, so much so that everything else fades.

I can’t decide if this is a direct dig at me by the cards or what. I’m totally thrown and clueless here.

As an upside though, I was able to get some quiet time to sit with Sekhmet and the Jackals in shrine today. I have a reed diffuser that I haven’t used yet, it’s patchouli and jasmine, so I put a couple drops of the oil on Their candles and prayed for a bit and offered Them water. I don’t know what else to do really, because I’m not allowed to bring food upstairs and I don’t need ants. I’m also not much for “formal” ritual, in other words all the actions and such. I might start swiping some liturgy from Eternal Egypt or something. I’m still road blocked on writing poetry for the Jackals and Sekhmet. If anyone has any thoughts, comments, questions, or concerns on either this or the cards, I’d be more than happy to hear them!