It was just before my birthday on the 14th. I took out 15 tarot cards to meditate upon, one to be first of Ace of Swords.
I’ve only done one Ace before, of Disks. It kicked my ass. Was amazing though.
I still haven’t done the meditation on it. I haven’t done a meditation on anything until — barely — just earlier tonight.
I haven’t read email in two weeks. The last time I went that long without reading email was over ten years ago — I was without a computer. In the hospital. That’s usually about what it would take.
I haven’t talked to anyone except my best friend and him only occasionally for a couple weeks. Well and coworkers… if I must. Not IG either. I’ve had no desire to communicate with anybody for any reason, as my now crazy amount of unread email indicates. I had to physically force myself to come blog. It’s a strange feeling for me. Like I don’t want any of me ‘hanging out’ or something. I keep writing work emails then deleting text and replacing it with a succinct sentence. Often I just delete it altogether. To say this is unlike me is a hilarious understatement.
I can feel it inside me. Like it’s very subtle, but it’s almost a kind of separation, of not-quite-anger. I didn’t think of it like this until tonight but I could almost see it as a sense of threat causing reaction like that… I should have done the tarot med. I will work on it tomorrow night I hope.
My work is going fine. Very busy, now in season, and as we get more technically complex things become so much more a big pain the … but I’m lucky that I like my company and job and coworkers. Would be hell if I didn’t. My review went great, I got a slight raise (which after dividing by 26 pay periods, taxes in a decent bracket and a levy, will probably give me about $25 extra per check, heh! But I’m not complaining!).
I would like to feel despair that I am not writing, singing, talking, designing, programming, or otherwise doing anything even slightly worthwhile with myself lately. I have wondered if I’m in a down-cycle and for some reason I can’t really feel it. I can’t really feel much of anything.
You know what I’ve been doing for two weeks, aside from sleeping and working? Reading. No, not classics. Not even very much good fiction, although I’m getting to it with many books I got for Ry to read this year. I’m reading all the free and some 99c amazon kindle stories. Romance, mystery, scifi. Some are ehhhhhrrrr not so good. Some are surprisingly good (for being free or nearly so). Many are so-so with a lot of missing punctuation and sudden font-attacks (kindle formatting has a personality all its own). I’ve read probably… um. OK it looks like… 40 books in the last two weeks. Is that a lot? OK a few of them were unusually short and most all of them were super simple material – kind of light harlequin (except one that turned out to be essentially pxrn. I couldn’t decide if that was a bug or a feature).
I promised Ry that this Friday night we would watch whatever Hulu has for the new season (so far: Castle and Haven), and that Saturday we would do a “Pirate-Fest” and watch all three Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Why? I don’t know. But she was being sweet when she asked, and for a moment the thought of staring at movies for six hours (I mostly liked the first one) didn’t make my eyes roll so I said yes, and now it’s too late, I’m committed. (I should be committed.) I am usually not very held in attention visually and need to do something at the same time I am watching something. Crochet, eat, whatever. I’ll have to figure out something I can do.
We went to see my grandma for her 90th birthday the other night in the care home where she stays, an hour away. My god. 90. I just sat there holding her hands and looking at the difference between our forearms — as different as my forearm and Ry’s in some ways. It boggles the mind.
Tonight for the first time since… well maybe three weeks now, I did a little prayer, talked to the chakras and the Aeons, talked to IG (Mark). Didn’t feel like doing anything. Didn’t even feel like talking to him. I recognized during that brief time with him, the feeling of threat-response being at the root of it, and the sense of the Ace of Swords energy being related to this, and that I need to work through that since it’s affecting me more than I realized until then.
I have the urge to wipe all this out and say never mind because nobody needs to hear it but I’m going to resist and hit publish just to irritate some part of myself trying to shrink back in the corner silently. I can’t believe I’m up so late, I’m getting sleep deprived again, that isn’t good. Off to sleep now.
P
