Complaining and Planning

So, I’ve been avoiding the gods. I am quite stuck in a rut now. I don’t know what to do next, or how to break free. I’m frustrated with Anpu. You see, He keeps insisting on not worrying about the mundane and focusing on the spiritual. However, I find it nearly impossible to do that. I’m a full-time student, I’m a full-time girlfriend, I work part-time and I just have obligations like everyone does. How can I possibly not worry? Not to mention, it’s not like Anpu has anything specific in mind when He says focus on the spiritual. In fact, all He says is to be creative. While I consider myself a fairly creative person, I often need some inspiration somewhere. I can’t stand implorations to just “be creative.” Especially since I don’t necessarily have the luxury to fart around thinking.

Then, I read a blog post. Devo wrote this a little while ago and I read it the other day. It reminded me that I’m not going to be good at everything. I know exactly what it is that I am good at, what I am decent at but need practice on, and what I am not good at. I know all these things about the mundane. I do not know these things for spiritual matters.

It made me realize that I need to focus and keep trying. Of course, one of the things I thought about after reading it was when do we know to stop trying/stop practicing? At what point can we realize and recognize that we need to try something else? I respect Devo, Aubs, Sard and a whole bunch of other Kemetics immensely. They encourage me and help me so much it’s mind-boggling. They constantly remind me that they don’t have anything together 100%, that they’ve been at this for years. Seven, ten, fifteen years. They had tried some technique, some thing, for years. Yet, I know there were things they tried and abandoned. When do we know to move on to try something else? When did they know? How do I know?

I’ve had some interesting things go on in my mundane life. As I mentioned in my last post, Zolfyer has a job now. He still likes it, but he’s finding that it is difficult to some degree. Tiring, draining. I also have a job; nannying for a very nice couple and their infant. I like them and I adore their baby, but in so many ways I feel like I’m not doing enough. Z and I are still trying to save to move out and our expenses have gone way up. The reason is we have a new car, and therefore, a car note and higher insurance. He is footing almost all of our expenses and savings, because I am in school and really can’t balance a full course load and a full-time job. He is ok with this because eventually I will be done school and he wants me to finish, and when I finish I will be capable of significant contribution to the finances.

Lately though we’ve been arguing. My health isn’t superb right now, not really unusual for this time of year. However we’ve been stressed out. Our ability to spend time together is getting seriously compromised and certain segments of my family are not helping us. They are trying to help, but they are not. I am…not very happy with myself or others. I can’t explain it really. I feel like I am neither helping, nor being helped. One of the Netjer told me today that I am being unreasonable and causing Z stress. I know they aren’t sock puppets because they usually are not on my side when I’m causing trouble. This isn’t any different. So for that I know what I have to do. I don’t know what to do about the rest of the issues going on. Everything is so uncertain and feels inadequate, yet I do feel like progress is being made towards my mundane goals. However, I do feel like some things are coming at a cost that I dislike. I feel massively separated from everything and like I’m watching the world spin around me, doing whatever it wants without me. I feel less involved in my own actions and my brain refuses to churn out inspiration for writing.

Instead I’ve turned to baking. I haven’t discussed baking recently because I haven’t done it recently. However, the other day I decided to make biscuits to rectify starting an argument. They came out ok, for some reason my dough refuses to rise. I made bread tonight, same issue. I followed the recipe to the letter, both for the biscuits and for the bread tonight, and yet, nothing. It’s good yeast, it activated, I mixed and kneaded thoroughly. Yet the dough still won’t rise. It is quite delicious if I say so myself, but it just. won’t. rise. I’m starting to feel like my bread is reflecting something of myself. I really feel that I’ve found my niche in the family baking tradition. Everyone makes sweets, my grandmother and mom make cakes and pies, my sister makes cakes and cookies, me, I make bread. I adore making bread, I really do. I don’t mind making other things, but it isn’t hand-sy enough. Ironic since I’m such a stickler for my hands being clean and grime free. However, I like mixing, I like kneading, I like flour. There is something delightful about banging, folding, turning and rolling a big mess into something useful and tasty for others. It is the same delight as cooking; I am providing something useful and nice for others. Feeding them, taking care of them. This is also why I love plants so much. They always appreciate care and affection and you can readily see how your treatment makes them grow.

Is that what is missing here? Practicality and usefulness to others, feeling as though I am taking care of them and receiving their appreciation? Maybe that is why I still struggle to maintain focus and motivation for crocheting, writing, language learning, and my other hobbies. Maybe there is too much abstract, too much centrality. Perhaps I don’t feel useful enough. Perhaps I don’t feel like I am providing a service to others, a way to make them feel cared about. Then also, perhaps I also struggle to feel I am improving. As much as I am an abstract thinker, I really enjoy the solid and concrete. That probably makes a lot of sense, I need concrete things to ground my wild thoughts. Z is a very solid, literal thinker and I love it. I feel safe and like I can count on him, with a sure surface to hold on to when I’m floundering or confused. He also helps me actually stick to and use solidarity, because having an abstract and watery brain makes it hard to hold on to the land you desperately want and need. However, with such things as self-learning Japanese or wading into the spiritual, it is difficult to judge success and improvement. I mean, obviously you improve, but, I am not good at making goals. As much as I’ve counseled my younger sister on how to make great goals, I am not that good at it myself. Sticking to said goals and other ways to keep progress on track are not easy for me either. So, having poorly formed goals and having a hard time sticking to goals makes it difficult to see anything going or to get going. I guess I’m also used to having goals that eventually end the endeavor. But, language and spirituality, unlike a crochet project or even a writing project, are sort of never-ending things. I love all four things, yet I struggle so greatly with them.

It hurts that I struggle so much. I want to be so good at them! I’m smart, I’m talented, so why can’t I do them? I practice and think and research and yet I go nowhere. Even when I have motivation and focus, somehow I still fail. I am not bad at these things, I am more than a beginner. Yet here I am, stuck in a rut. I know what is wrong with writing. I know what is causing me problems there, yet fixing them is not easy. Even my photography is stuck, but at least it is fall, so I could, in theory, jump back in. Focus is the main problem with both crochet and language. I’ve no idea what I’m doing wrong in baking, so I shall have to try a different recipe. I guess focus and confidence are the problems in spirituality. Who knows. All I know is I am trying and I just need to stick to a schedule of some sort. That is probably the hardest part for me. Also something hard, realizing when I’m being and stopping being insufferable and unreasonable. Being a human is hard. Well, at least I have a plan. Perhaps I should consider more how I can incorporate plants and others into my hobbies and spirituality. I must find a way to solidify the things I’m trying to do in my spiritual life. I need to figure out the matter of practicality and caretaking for my spirituality and these hobbies and create good, sustainable goals.

Oh, I almost forgot, there’s a new goddess hanging around. She never introduced Herself and still hasn’t. No one has said anything about Her, I may have noticed Her earlier than I was supposed to. All I know is I noticed Her presence while offering food to Anpu and Aset, so I gave Her some too. She is fair skinned with black hair and reminds me vaguely of Ma’at. Simple clothes, no wings, so She wasn’t Aset, who always has Her headdress and wings. That and Aset was to my left and this other goddess was to my right. It may very well be Ma’at, but I really don’t think so.This unknown goddess doesn’t have a headdress, but something vaguely feather-like and simple rests on Her head. There was no detail, it was totally blurry, but it was weird. It could potentially be Serket. I don’t know.

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Asthma Again and Goddesses

So yesterday I finally got my room back. Yup, my sister moved into mine when she had Nephew and her room got turned into storage. Of course that meant when I got back to my mom’s house I had no place to sleep. Yesterday we finally finished cleaning up and arranging her room so now I have mine back! The only downside is I am allergic to dust, among other things, and that is one of the things that always sets off an asthma attack. Now, luckily my asthma has been relatively well behaved since I last wrote about it, though it’s still way too angry at life, I know this because my inhaler is nearly half empty (yay for a counter on it).

Anyway, the moving and cleaning and such set my asthma off as I expected. Now, as anyone with a chronic lung disease knows (or hell, something short term like a bad cold or pneumonia or flu) knows how exhausting it is. Not just that, but it completely disrupts sleep and restfulness. Like last night. I actually often dream of having an asthma attack if I’m having one IRL and last night was no exception.

It started off with me traveling with Sister and Boyfriend and some other random happenings. During this time there was a scene where I was in the car with Boyfriend and Sister and said something about Serqet. That I should pray to Her because this was getting to the end point. I actually prayed to Her in this dream, something like “Oh Lady of Lungs, Guardian of Breathing, come close to me”. We then went to Sister’s friend’s house who lived near my grandmother (this person doesn’t exist IRL) and she’s nice and kinda energetic and for some reason is trusted with babysitting Nephew. Now at this point I’m talking to her and she’s talking about a whole bunch of strange stuff that I can’t remember. I remember around this time I took my dose of albuterol for sudden symptoms. It seemed to work and the friend invited us out.

I don’t know why we accepted, but we did and I got into a van with her and Boyfriend and Sister got into another one. There was a bunch of people in both vans besides us and we went to this big house where people were outside and inside praying and listening to sermons. They weren’t Christians though, they looked more like Muslims in fact. I don’t know what this meant but I actually didn’t go listen to any of it, in fact I went to find Boyfriend and Sister. I was complaining about my asthma again and how I didn’t want to use my inhaler again, it was too early. I did eventually, but my asthma was just getting worse through the course of this dream.

Eventually I ended up using the inhaler four more times, each one not working and my breathing just getting harder. It was a horrible feeling, especially trying to use the inhaler and not even feeling like you’re inhaling the medicine into your lungs but just into your mouth. At a certain point the dream even had me going into my drawer to get my spacer that I haven’t used in years to try and make it easier to breathe in the medicine. I never use it mainly because I know how to properly use my inhaler without it, but I was hoping it would help and it didn’t.

Eventually I just went to find Boyfriend and Sister again (I had been exploring the house and talking to people) and had them call 911. Now, it takes a lot to get me to ask for an ambulance, I have a ton of tips and tricks that I’ve learned over the years to stay out of the ER, but this was just like no, I won’t be stupid, just call the hospital. In the meantime I was somehow in my pajamas and wanted to change, which was like pulling teeth because for some reason I had no regular clothes of my own and Sister wouldn’t give me any of hers. Eventually she did and I set about finding someplace to change.

I went upstairs and found a huge bathroom, but it was open to the staircase and had a strange window on one wall. I tried to change as fast as I could before people came upstairs, but it wasn’t fast enough. Some dude came up and was just staring at me before trying to talk to me and grab me. I just could not get my clothes to cooperate and this asshat was creepin on me hardcore. Others started to come upstairs though and made him get back, but it was still an issue of privacy. Even though he got back, he kept staring and so did others. Eventually I got my clothes on and went downstairs where I met up with Boyfriend and Sister and went outside.

I asked about the ambulance, it still wasn’t here and that made no sense since we weren’t in East Jablip or something. Outside was a playground and children, including a mom and her two kids. I overheard their conversation with each other, both the woman’s daughter and son were having asthma attacks and they were waiting for an ambulance too. There’s weren’t too bad, not nearly as advanced as mine, but enough to warrant an ER trip all the same. The slow ass ambulance finally arrives, but with no lights on and just one. So then it was making the decision between who would go first, me or the kids. I looked at my fingernails since I had felt dizzy for a while and saw they were blue. Cyanosis. You have to be pretty fucking bad to get cyanotic, to have so little oxygen and breath that your nails are turning blue (lips and skin blueness are also a sign of cyanosis).

I showed my nails to the EMT who was acting like he was around kids who got an arm scrape as opposed to three people suffocating to death and he said “dingy, cyanosis, come on”. I woke up as I was getting in the ambulance. I was, in fact, wheezing substantially and was eventually forced to get out of bed and retrieve my inhaler. To say I wasn’t happy about being up at 7am from breathing troubles and a headache is an understatement. The asthma has bothered me at least half the day.

This of course had me waking up with Serket on my mind. The last time I wrote about my asthma, Helmsman-of-Inepu made a suggestion of talking to the goddess Serket. She is said to be a goddess of the lungs and of breathing (and water and scorpions and other venomous creatures) and could be a useful netjer to pester about lung health. He also suggested looking into medical heka about it as well. Now, I don’t know much about heka, or about this goddess, but ya know what? I’m willing to find out and knock on Her door. I’ve had this mild feeling that there was another goddess I wanted to get to know anyway, and She and Aset are friendly, so yeah. Conveniently, I found one of my asthma books that I never finished reading (like, I didn’t even finish chapter one O.o) last night, so I’m gonna get to reading that so I can do more on the mundane plane. Tonight or tomorrow I’ll make offerings to my three established deities and open a conversation with Serket. Maybe I’ll pose a question on magic to, well anybody now that I think of it XD Set, Aset and Anpu all have magic, the Jackal and The Lady are especially well known for it. Who knows, I’ll give it a shot. Wish me luck, I’ll have to make quite a few changes in my life and eating to move this along to better lung health.

And one last thing, completely off topic, I hope all the children from the shooting are resting in peace. I pray for their souls and for their families. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain that must be felt. Let this serve as a starting point for peace and peace talks that actually mean something and get somewhere in our country. May Anpu lead the dead to rest and Aset embrace the grieving families.