DAY 1156: Burning Questions
Greetings!
I want to thank those who reached out, because I haven't posted in a while, asking if everything was okay. The answer is yes, more or less.
In the past 10 days, I was hit by the full moon, had an expensive day at the dentist, spent three days sick in bed after my Covid vaccine, devoted days reading a book and writing my columns for PaganPages.org which I have yet to complete (and the deadline is tomorrow), and a long afternoon yesterday dealing with a shitty composting toilet problem that wiped me out, after which I took a cold shower because there was no hot water. Today I spent some time consolidating and packing away all my medical supplies now that my wound is pretty much healed. Then, while burning my cardboard this afternoon, I got a large sliver in the palm of my hand, and had to dig out the storage bin to remove, clean, and bandage the new wound. Tonight I wore myself out getting the 96-pound box with my new couch from the street to the work area before giving up and leaving it on the cart. I will be trying to assemble it soon in case I don't like it and it needs to be returned.
It will be quite a while before it can go in Karmalita. Her walls and floor are removed, and work will resume soon, leaving me with the burning question: do I drive Karma to 1,500 miles around Florida to visit six friends or remain here for the build.
On last week's full moon, I introduced three skoolie sisters (technically, two – one lives in a van) to numerology and the pendulum, then helped them plan their own releasing ritual. That night I stood under the moon and read her the long list of what I was releasing, lit the paper on fire, and dropped it into the cauldron. As the flames shot up, I suddenly realized I had not folded the paper away from me before burning it, as the spell called for. I was about to chastise myself for not following my own ritual correctly when I remembered the last thing I squeezed onto the bottom of the back side of the list was "I release the belief that I am anything but perfectly imperfect." And I couldn't help but laugh.
That night was cold, as have been others. I find myself wanted to go to bed early to snuggle under the covers, taking away five or so of my usually productive late-night hours. Tonight will be another. At 5pm the fuzzy socks, wrap, and diesel heater went on as it got down into the low 50s. The forecast calls for it to get down to 33 before dawn.
With all those extra hours in bed, I have have had some scary dreams that made it difficult to get back to sleep. I've also developed a sense of dread realizing how much less storage my next bus will have and how much I will again be forced to purge. Plus, since the full moon, I have struggled to stay out of fear and to overcome feelings of lack in a few areas of my life. I know that just realizing when this happens brings me to my point of power, so I'll pull out my journal, but I end up merely sitting with it, pen in hand, never writing. Except for adding fresh flowers, I've pretty much neglected my altar, which contributes to the feeling of being off.
I know this cycle will end, "but when" has become another burning question. I question other things, including what am I trying to protect myself from by gaining ten pounds, and how to best prioritize my to-do list.
May you and I make the most of these next few weeks as we continue to descend into darkness.