Thought Scatterlings - On Prosperity and Opportunity

Yesterday I ran headlong into writer's block when I sat down to work on my upcoming column for SageWoman (I think I wrote about two and a half sentences, literally). Last week was an intense week of writing for me, with more than 10,000 words of spiritual journaling on top of the blog posts for Meadowsweet that I was working on. So it's probably natural that this week all I want to do is sit around and window shop online for pretty things. Because, did I mention, Jeff is officially out of debt!

Okay, not exactly. His last payment to the debt consolidation folks for the joint debt from his previous marriage was this month. He's still paying off the debt for the time-share (plus the idiotic monthly maintenance fee), so our next project is to start on the legal paperwork to get rid of that white elephant. And of course, I'm still paying off my student loans. But still, it's a huge weight off. I actually had a bit of a breakdown last night, for the first time crying about money because I felt good about our financial situation. I'd spent much of the afternoon daydreaming about someday being able to build a Tumbleweed Tiny House, and looking at the cost and realizing that, yes, it actually is in the realm of possibility to someday be able to do that. Not for a good five to ten years, but the way things are going right now... I might actually be a homeowner by the time I'm forty. The thought boggles the mind. I know the American Dream/Promise/Lie is that everyone can get a great job and become a homeowner with a little suburban spot with a yard and a white picket fence, but that's never been my goal and part of me never really believed that I would ever get there. (When you grow up wanting to be a poet, you kind of reconcile yourself to poverty and obscurity right from the start.)

The suburban home is not my dream now, either, but what is my dream is to have a small cottage (like, if we took our current apartment and squished it to make it two floors instead of one, but with the same basic square footage) with an outdoor deck and small garden (with maybe a fire pit and small stone circle) and, beyond that, some forested land that is part of a larger green belt or park. I imagine myself sitting in that cottage with the windows open, drinking tea and working on my writing while listening to the sounds of the natural world outside, or going out onto the deck at dawn to do some yoga in the fresh morning air, or taking a walk in the forest in the late afternoon... And I'm noticing that not many of these daydreams involve Jeff, so I guess he'd still be going in to the office to work! Or, another thing we talked about, was having a kind of "community" of tiny houses, so that he could work from home but still go out to his "office," a separate little shed furnished as a study and/or library. Because, you know, I still need my solitude, and I think I'd get restless always having him hanging around the house... (Also, having a separate office space would be better for tax purposes, since then you could count that as a business expense; we can't do that now, even though I work from home, because all the rooms I use for my work are technically "multi-purpose".) And maybe I could have my own little "study" too, and they could then serve as guest rooms for when we have family visiting, so the kids have somewhere to stay and, once they're grown up, could even come and bring their partners. That way, we could reduce our carbon footprint by only heating those spaces when they're in use, or only using them during warmer weather when we don't need heat, instead of having a sprawling house with all the rooms always being heated whether or not we're using them. Since it never gets all that cold out here, we wouldn't even have to worry about pipes freezing or anything, like Melanie does with the farmhouse up in New Hampshire when it's not in use during the winter. The point is, we could start small and then slowly add on one tiny house/shed at a time -- and when we're older and retired, if we don't need them anymore, we could even end up renting them out like B&B rooms (or like that yurt that we stayed in this past summer).

But all of that is way down the road. The point is, there is a road and we're on it. We're not pulled over stuck in a ditch anymore. And if we save money and get a little bit of land where I can garden and a little house that we own, then no matter how old and poor we get, at least we'll have a roof over our heads and a place to grow some food.

Because I do get a little worried about what it will be like to be old. I plan on living a long time, and so does Jeff, but he is ten years older than I am to begin with and women tend to live longer than men in any case. And as much as his kids are awesome, it's not like I expect them to take care of me when I'm old once he's gone. And I don't really think my own family, like my brother or cousins, would feel like it was their responsibility to do that, either. And in any case, I'd feel a bit bad about being a burden on them. (The one exception being if Dan goes on to be a millionaire fancy-pants and never does end up having kids, in which case, hello, Mr. Millionaire, it's your big sis, who always loved and supported you... ;)

Speaking of Dan, he emailed me this morning to brag about this really cool course he's taking this coming semester, the Sociology of Consumerism. It looks fascinating! In his email, he said, "You'd be proud," and damn it, I am. Super proud! When he was little, he always wanted to be rich and he was always fascinated with money.... but as he's grown up, that part of him has really matured into a thoughtful, conscientious person who wants to understand other people and their aspirations and how they define and conceive of wealth and success... I get a little bit teary-eyed at how awesome he is, and how much I admire him for leaving a crazy-well-paying job to go back to grad school to study this stuff.

And of course, I'm also jealous. I would love to go back to school. But I think during those seven long years of always being broke, something in me got broken. I feel such resistance against and disdain for academia and how they fleece people, even though I love the atmosphere of those kinds of centers of learning and the opportunity to devote my time to reading and discussing with other people who are also there to learn and think. Every time I think about going back to school, I immediately shut that idea down because it would be insane to take out more loans to finance my education, especially when I'm mostly just interested in learning, not necessarily how a higher degree could help me get a better paying job. Case in point: there's an amazing ecological and wilderness awareness program at a school only about forty minutes away; the program is a year-long study of various aspects of wilderness survival training, hands-on naturalist training and a study of the philosophy and spirituality of nature-centered indigenous and modern cultures. It's pretty much perfect (and the school is accredited, unlike some of these Pagan-based programs). But my immediate reaction is: well, I could never do that, because I can't afford it.

There are a lot of things that I have that reaction to, and I wonder when I started to respond to life that way. I know that living below the poverty line for so long was, in many ways, very good for me and helped me to ground in who I really am beneath all the "stuff" of modern consumerist culture, helped me to ground in simplicity and see the beauty of the world just as it was. I lived a very happy but monkish life for quite a while (that should qualify me for something or give me some street cred, shouldn't it?). But at the same time, I look at my brother and I see how he's getting to pursue his dreams because he put money first when it mattered, and now he has the luxury and resources to do what he wants with it. (Granted, as a grad student who is now deeper in debt than I ever was, I have a feeling he'll be getting a good dose of the simple, monkish life himself.) But I'm not even talking about the money, so much as the attitude. There's an attitude that anything is possible, that you can take risks and it won't be that bad, because you'll always have a support system, something to fall back on. Except, I've never had that. (Moving back into an abusive home where people treat you as a burden and a failure even if you're just visiting for more than a few days... that's a no.)

Maybe it also has to do with the fact that I don't drive, so I never had this sense of freedom that, no matter how bad things got, I could just break away from it all and go do something else, even if only for a little while. I never got to go to any parks or "escape into wilderness" all those years when I was poor, even though it would have only cost me a tank of gas to get into the mountains. Instead, I had to take every opportunity to go when others would be willing to take me along -- like family vacations -- and hope that I would get a chance to spend some alone time in nature. So in some ways, I guess I trained myself to put other people's needs ahead of mine, or at least to put their dreams ahead of my own and be practical about what I could or couldn't do. I got used to being treated like I couldn't really take care of myself or be independent if I didn't drive or didn't have a lot of money. There was no point in trying to make plans for myself, beyond very modest plans, because I didn't have the means to act on them in any case.

The more I think about it, the more it seems like the choice not to drive -- which was largely because I couldn't afford a car or the insurance, and my parents weren't willing to give me a car and pay for my insurance like they did with my brother -- played a very large role in whether or not other people saw me as an "adult"... And the only time that wasn't true was when I was waitressing, since a lot of the people I worked with either used public transportation or couldn't afford a car. But then, a requirement of being promoted to a management position was having a car, and I was once offered a promotion only to have it taken back because I didn't.

And this brings me back to those thoughts I've had before about living a hunter-gatherer lifestyle in a settled, consumer culture. Between waitressing for tips and having to rely on the chance opportunities that came my way, I very much had to learn how to see bounty and prosperity where others might have seen scarcity or restriction, and to find ways to embody generosity precisely because I knew how much I relied on the generosity of others. But I also got used to seeing restrictions where other people saw potential because I couldn't afford to plant seeds and sit and wait for them to grow so I could harvest them later... because in the meantime, I'd starve. (This is a convoluted metaphor.)

I wonder to what extent our online lives are pushing us in this direction, too. It seems like the people who do manage to make a living being "online content creators" do it in a kind of hunter-gatherer fashion, relying on viral memes and the chance that people will buy their t-shirts or donate on their webpage or share their links to earn them ad-sense royalties... It's a much different model than someone who goes into the office everyday, works normal hours and gets a reliable paycheck as a result. Sometimes I feel like a hunter-gatherer who married into an agricultural family — Jeff with his 9-to-5 and the kids he has to support whether he has a job or not — and so I find myself sometimes feeling oddly restless and wanting to just move and do whatever inspiration urges me to do, and other times feeling somewhat panicked because I don't know how to settle down, focus on regular consistent work and trust the harvest to come in, because part of me doesn't think I'm very good at it.

Maybe I should find a harvest goddess or god to help me out with these issues. Maybe this is why my relationship with Brigid has been weird over the past few years (because I think she is much more a settled, harvest kind of goddess than a wild goddess like Artemis). While I trust in the fecundity of the earth to provide me what I need, I don't necessarily trust the other people I'm in community with to portion out something that is fair, because I've almost never been in a familial relationship where that was the case. I've always been the runt who gets the leftovers, and while as a kid I could get used to it and make do on what little I did have, as an adult who is now supposed to take those leftovers and hand them over to the stepkids because, you know, children are the future or whatever... It's the worst of both societies, in which scarcity is forced on some so that others may prosper, but with no expectation that those who are prosperous will also be generous in their turn.

So, I think a goal for 2013 for me should be: re-learn how to drive. I'm on Jeff's insurance already, anyway, and during the week his car just sits in the garage while he bikes or takes the bus to work. I'm not a huge fan of driving for lots of reason (many of them ecological), but maybe as a symbol of independence and freedom within this particular society I need to prove to myself and to others that I don't always have to put everyone else's plans and needs before my own, that I can go after the things that I want in my life and I have the means to get there. (And that goes for biking more around the city, too, though I was starting to do that a lot more last fall anyway and now I'm just waiting for the weather to get a bit better again so I'm not driving around in the dark and/or cold.)

Okay then.

Problem solved, writer's block? Can we get back to work now?


~
ETA: Obviously this whole "feeling good about money" thing wasn't meant to last... Figures today we'd get a bunch of bat-shit-crazy emails from the EW stamping her foot and demanding impotently that Jeff spend his money according to her whims. ::eyeroll::

My Perspective on "Pagan" - As Told Using the Metaphor of Apartments I've Rented

Alison is procrastinating. Enjoy the ride.....

How It Began

The first apartment I ever rented was the first floor of a three-story house, and I shared it with my then-boyfriend. We never really had any furniture except random pieces we'd inherited from our respective parental units and other odds and ends that we'd salvaged from street corners. The place was spacious and cheap, but we never had enough "real" furniture to fill it up, so it always felt oddly put together. It was easy to keep warm because it was wedged between a basement and the upper stories, both of which had thermostats controlled by the landlords, who lived above us. So, lots of room, cheap and easy to keep liveable.

But there were problems. The people who lived above us (yep, the landlords) were incredibly noisy at all unreasonable hours of the day and night. They didn't bother to fix things in our apartment when they went wrong — like the bedroom window, that was cracked when we moved in and was never replaced — but any temporary fixes to those problems caused huge issues — like me putting duct tape over the cracked window and then hanging a thick blanket up instead of a curtain. Boy did they bitch about that. Also, the basement flooded all the time, and the toilets tended to clog and back up. Eventually, too, the boyfriend and I broke up, and then it was just miserable, because he moved out and I had even less furniture and I spent about six months sleeping on a mattress on the floor, curled up watching hours of X-Files reruns at 3 AM on a tiny 13-inch TV (and this was before HD-TV and LCD flatscreens, people). I eventually came to hate it there, and the landlords didn't like me very much either. Even though it could have been a nice place — it had the space, and everything in it was new, carpets, paint-job, kitchen appliances — underneath is was all falling apart, and the fact that nobody wanted to talk about it or try to fix it, and they always had a problem when I tried to patch things up with my limited resources, just made it worse.

In this story, this apartment represents my relationship with Christianity.

Adorably Retro

Because I couldn't afford to stay in that place once the boyfriend moved out and stopped paying rent, I moved into my own place when the lease was up. This new place had been described as "adorably retro" by the rental agency, but I never figured out why. It had real hardwood floors that must have been about fifty years old, banged up and scratched and splintering, and its walls were covered in some sort of weird stucco plaster. But beneath the plaster was good, solid brick. I got permission to paint, and so the living room ended up being a refreshing ice blue, and the single bedroom was a deep, relaxing lavender. It had a balcony that looked out over a small gravel lot lined with trees, past which you could see the neighbors' gardens. In the hall, there was a little nook that used to house an old-fashioned telephone — I used it as a place to set up my main altar/shrine. Although I kept some of the old furniture that I'd inherited, I also got new furniture — and though it was mostly inexpensive, I got a few nice, solid items meant to last, and I picked them out carefully so that each room had a cohesive feeling, a kind of aesthetic wholeness to it. I spent some years in this apartment working as a waitress, swinging midnight shifts and feeling desperately lonely, but no matter how lonely I got, I still felt like I was home. And that meant something. The world, especially the natural world, would not abandon me.

In this story, this apartment represents my finding a home in Druidry, and wandering in the wilderness of this new spirituality, making it my own.

Townhouse Posturing

I met Jeff while I was still living in this "retro" apartment, and he did the unimaginable and moved to Pittsburgh. In part it was to be with me, but it also happened that his ex-wife's new fiancé had family in Pittsburgh and they were looking for a cheaper city to live in. (Although his ex-wife tried to dispute it in court, we have the documented email evidence to prove that she actually bought a house in Pittsburgh before Jeff ever even started looking for apartments; so it's not like Jeff abandoned his children in order to go live with his mistress.) When Jeff decided to move to Pittsburgh, I helped him find a place.

This apartment was what we could arguably call a "townhouse." It was two-stories and was one of two townhouses that made up a single building on a block of similar structures. Jeff needed a place big enough for the kids to visit every weekend, so it was a three-bedroom place, even though most of the week it was basically empty. This townhouse tried too hard to be a "house." It aspired to all kinds of legitimacy. It had carpeting, and a yard, and what could pass for a front porch. It had two whole bathrooms, and a real kitchen instead of a closet-sized space with a fridge and mini-stove shoved into it. It even had a fireplace.

I continued to officially live in my own "retro" apartment for a year after Jeff moved to Pittsburgh, but I spent more and more of my time at the townhouse. Eventually, most of my clothes and day-to-day stuff ended up over there. But Jeff, having been through a divorce where his ex-wife took everything except the debt she'd wracked up on their joint account, didn't really have any real furniture except for a few old pieces that were too crappy for the EW to have wanted. All of our money went into making the place liveable for the kids — we got bunk-beds and we doubled up on toys and clothing because the EW was pretty awful at getting them to pack anything for the weekend. I felt tremendous pressure to suddenly "play mom" and prove that I was "mature" enough to "handle kids" and all of the adult responsibilities that I quickly discovered the EW was fond of passing off onto other people because she herself was not very good at handling them.

My life, like the townhouse, aspired for a while to be "respectable" and "serious" and "mature" — but I only ever really half lived there, and it always seemed to be other people's ideas of respectability and maturity that did the dictating. Unlike my little "retro" apartment, which seemed to have no pretensions at all. My retro apartment had incredibly old, scratched up wood floors, but at least they were real wood. The townhouse had carpets like a "real house," but they were old, shitty carpets with random ugly stains from previous occupants and they never seemed to get clean despite Jeff's motorcycle-like vacuum. My retro apartment may have had wires randomly sticking out of the walls here and there, but all the wiring worked. It may have only had a gravel lot for the backyard, but beyond that you could see trees and gardens and even the park. At the townhouse, the front yard wasn't really a yard, so much as a cliff, but it still required mowing. The backyard wasn't a yard so much as a weed-bed, but we did our best to plant some flowers and a vegetable garden and try to beat back the tangle. It was a lot of work, and not much pay-off. This seemed to be the way with a lot of things — lots of things that seemed like good ideas, but ended up being difficult or awkward in practice. A door that led out onto the roof from the second-story seemed like a good idea because the roof could be almost like a balcony.... Except that the door didn't open unless you pulled up the cheap carpeting in the corner, and the roof sagged a bit so that it seemed to be possibly dangerous to be up there for any length of time. There was an oddly shaped nook that seemed like it could be a good place for a "library" — a nice idea, except that none of our bookshelves seemed to fit the space properly, they were either too big or too small, and the room was always freezing cold and uncomfortable to sit in. (This was generally true — the place was impossible to heat. My old retro apartment had been super-warm and cozy in the winter, and the heating was included in the rent, but the townhouse had thin plaster walls and leaky windows that never seemed to hold in any heat at all and our heating bills were huge. Also, none of its windows seemed to let in any light even on the sunniest days.) The fireplace, which seemed like such a cute, good idea, didn't work. But it somehow remained stubbornly sooty anyway even after we repainted it, and all the furniture in the living room ended up being awkwardly arranged around this sooty, cold and dead fireplace in which no hearthfire would ever burn.

In this story, this townhouse is like the reconstructionist/hard polytheistic approach.

Interestingly, my time struggling with hard polytheism coincided with this time in my life, when I was kind of half-living in a place built and furnished by and for other people, which aspired to be "respectable" and "real," but wasn't. It tried to hide how old it was while aping (poorly) the comforts of stability (epitomized, in my mind, by the absolutely shitty wall-to-wall carpeting). In the same way, my time struggling with hard polytheism always seemed to be full of other people's opinions and expectations; it seemed impossible to relax and ground in my own relationship with Spirit and with the natural world. Even though I might have been lonely and "irresponsible" living alone in my retro apartment and working as a waitress, I was home. Even though modern Revival Druidry was a bit new-agey and a bit meso-pagan and some of its wiring showed, it still worked and it had warm, sturdy walls.

Smoke Tree Condo

Then, Jeff's job moved us across the country to Seattle, and we found a small, affordable place. It's bigger than my old "retro" apartment, but it's not nearly as big as the townhouse. We have neighbors, and although we rent, many of our neighbors are permanent residents and meet quarterly as members of the condo's management team. We get so much sunlight, especially in the summer, but even in the winter on the rainiest of days, the rooms are well-lit and pleasant. We donated almost all of our old furniture except a few select pieces, and used a bit of savings to buy a few new pieces, so once again, each room feels like a real room, with its own sense of space and style. Our kitchen is smaller than the townhouse kitchen, but has so much counter space that it's perhaps the first truly functional kitchen I've ever had. We have an entire wall of bookcases in our living room, and two more bookcases in the den. All of our sofas fold out, so we have plenty of room for when the kids visit, but the rooms don't sit empty and non-functional wastes of space when they're not around. We have lots of closet space (so much, that we're able to temporarily convert our one walk-in closet into a recording studio on podcasting nights).

There are only a few draw-backs. There's no porch or balcony, nowhere private to sit outside and enjoy the weather. The floors are "wood-like" linoleum... which is a huge improvement over crappy carpeting, but still not as good as real wood. And it's the first apartment I've had that isn't within a block of a wooded park. It's so close to being a perfect fit, and it has many of the best things that I loved about my old "retro" apartment while also having some really nice things that that apartment didn't have (like counter-space and new, energy-efficient appliances and windows). It's the perfect size for us, and I feel very happy here. But I already know that I won't be here forever, and one of the main reasons I know it is because it's too far from green space — "nature" is a thing I have to go out of my way to get to, and even though that's resulted in me volunteering with the parks and learning all sorts of stuff about ecology and natural history, it's not the kind of intimate, immediate relationship that I enjoyed in my old, run-down "retro" apartment.

In this story, our current apartment is like my current spiritual path. It is so close to being perfect, and there are lots of things about it that I love. I feel at home, but I also know that I will eventually need to move on. The biggest reason I know I'll need to move on is because, right now, my relationship with "nature" is somewhat distanced and intellectual, and in this way it parallels my work as a volunteer naturalist and how that's different from being a poet wandering in the wilderness. Eventually, I want to be the poetic ecosophist, the wise sage who can wander in the wilderness and also teach practical, useful wisdom to those who come to seek her out; who has both an intellectual understanding of her gods and their theology, and an intimate and ecstatic relationship with them in way that allows both perspectives to enhance each other.

For now, I finally feel like I can start grounding in my own path again. I have a happy, truly stable place to call home that gives me the time and support I need to prepare for that next step, and I know that the next step means lingering for a little while in this place with "nature" is a little more distant. I also know that, wherever I end up, it's not going to be the metaphorical "respectable single-family suburban house with white picket fence" that the townhouse, in this metaphor, was trying so hard to pretend to be. It's not going to be the respectable, structured, organized religion that reconstructionism/hard polytheism tries so hard to be. I have a better sense of what works for me and what doesn't, and I no longer feel pressured to apologize for not wanting that kind of life, or that kind of religion. So now it's a matter of figuring out what kind of spiritual (and physical) space I do want to live in, and spend some time daydreaming, saving for and working towards my dream-home.

The Moral of The Story

All of these places, despite their differences, were still apartments.

All of these paths, despite their differences, are still Paganism.

(Except, of course, for the first example of Christianity.)

(Damn it.)

(Shut up.)

Happy Ali Is Happy

I have nothing of deep spiritual insight to add at the moment, but I did want to follow up with a post noting that, for the most part, I am exceedingly happy with my life right now. Like, not just "I realize intellectually that I should be happy because things are going well, but mostly I feel tired" kind of happy. Actually happy, the solid kind of happiness that can become a foundation, the kind of happiness that you can build on.

Partly I think this is due to my writing. NaNoWriMo has given me a legitimate excuse to spends hours every day writing creatively, something I haven't done in a very long time. I find that the energy it gives me spills over into my other work — on the podcast, on the blog — and so that work is also becoming easier, getting more "flow" to it.

Another part of this is that, because I start every writing session with a tarot reading and ten minute meditation, I have somehow tricked myself into re-establishing a daily practice. Because the meditation is not all that long, I have far fewer excuses for not doing it; and because it's main purpose is to quiet my mind in order to help me transition into "creative writing mode," I don't concern myself with making progress or accomplishing anything by it as a result. This is, of course, the best way to approach a daily meditative practice — at least, so I've heard over and over — releasing attachments to outcome and providing yourself with a pause in which to embrace silence as a path to the divine. But I am such a perfectionistic workaholic that I have always bent my whole intensely-wound will on being really awesome at non-attachment... which, obviously, somewhat defeats the purpose. (Gods, please do not let me jinx this practice by writing about it here and making myself aware of the trick I've played on my perfectionism!)

Likewise, the tarot reading is not a reading for myself, but for the next scene that I'm working on in the book. So I avoid the kind of spiraling navel-gazing self-obsession that my attempts at daily tarot reading has led me to in the past. In other words, I'm practicing non-attachment with my divination as well, and the only records of my readings are (instead of an obsessively kept journal) the creative writing that results, which is shaped not just by the divination but by the plot outline I'm working from and the characters who want to have their own say. (There is one character in particular who dominates every scene she's in and just will not shut up and let others talk... I will have to find something to do with her. Jeff suggests giving her a yappy dog to keep her busy and distracted.)

I am so deeply proud of the work we're doing with the podcast, engaging in topics that really interest me and giving me lots of opportunities to explore new ideas. I feel somewhat liberated from the pressures that blogging had brought with it, which means that when I do blog (on my own personal website), I enjoy it more.

Also, it's beautiful here. The weather is finally getting chilly, but it continues to be sunny on and off most days, and the same flock of pigeons hangs out on the roof of the condo across the street, and the same crow surfs the power line above the smoke tree, and I am finally (weirdly enough) feeling at home here. I am not sure when this started to happen, but I noticed it when the kids came to visit us in October — I finally feel grounded and centered in this place, I finally feel like I'm starting to understand the patterns and moods of the landscape here. I still spend far too much time inside during the week, between the writing and the podcast research and editing, but weekends are wonderful chances to go out exploring, and Jeff and I are still volunteering as naturalists, which is another of the reasons I feel grounded and connected and happy.

I feel too often this blog becomes a place for me to rant about the things that bother me when they're bothering me, and it can seem like they dominate my days when really they are passing concerns. I feel deeply happy and fulfilled in my life right now. Oddly enough, I am exactly where I wanted and hoped to be by this time in my life (child-free by choice, with an awesome man who loves me and just got an adorable new haircut, living in a beautiful city that doesn't dry my skin till it bleeds in the winter, doing creative work that I love and find meaningful...). I am so full of gratitude and amazement that this is my life. Sometimes I wonder if my minor freak-outs are largely due to the fact that, damn it, I want everyone to have such an awesome and fulfilling life and so many times it seems like instead people are engaged in senseless self-sabotage. Non-attachment, Alison, non-attachment. Lift them up into the light and let them work their own way out, since that is really the only way it works anyway.

My remaining goal is to finish this book manuscript by the winter solstice. Perhaps an arbitrary date, but it's a pretty big astronomical alignment that kind of nicely wraps up my Saturn Return years. It would be nice to go in to the dawning of a new year and its lengthening days knowing that a major life goal of mine (to write a novel) has been crossed off the list.

I guess that means I better get started, then...

**

Edited to add: Duh! Then there's my relationship with the gods, specifically Artemis (yeah, that's right, I said it!) and Brigid (yeah, that's right, I'm not so deity-dumped as I thought). Turns out that when Brigid suggested we see other people, she meant some sort of kinky holy threesome, and I feel a roundness and wildness to my relationships with deity now that astounds me and fills me with energy, inspiration and gratitude. So... rock on!

Sorta

This evening during dinner, it suddenly struck me that now that we're in Seattle, my Saturn-Pluto conjunction isn't the only thing in my astrological chart to have shifted (away from a square with my midheaven, thank the gods!).

My moon has moved from the dark depths of the mysterious and inscrutable 12th House into the 1st House, house of manifestation, self-expression, obvious appearances and the physical body ("identity in action," as Arroyo describes it).

Which might explain, or at least contribute to, why a sorta-moon goddess has suddenly asserted herself in my life.

Of course, she's not exactly a moon goddess, not really. She is only sort of a moon goddess, just as she is sorta many things, sorta this, sorta that.

I've been pondering a way of referring to her in public posts like this without having to name her specifically, since I'm trying out this whole thing of not giving a shit what other people think of our relationship (and not wanting to rely on the italicized her, lest things get too hot and heavy in the syntax department). I feel like "Sorta" may just be a very good nickname.

With all respect, reverence and due deference. (I think she's cool with it.)

Storyteller Spread Day 9: Treasure and Home

I'm on Day 9 of using Dianne Sylvan's Storyteller spread, today pulling the card for the ninth and tenth positions, representing The Treasure and Home.

The position held by Card 9 represents the Treasure, that which the Key (Card 8) unlocks, the outcome of the quest and the final reward for the challenges faced and overcome. Card 10 represents Home - the hero's journey has come to an end, and this last card represents how she will integrate her new skills and gifts into her life and bring them back home (or perhaps, move on to another adventure).

For the Treasure, I drew the Three of Swords - a card of heartbreak and betrayal, although there may also be some suggestion of a willing sacrifice. This card is not a final state, but a transition - the number three is a first manifestation or expression that arises from the tension and duality of two - and so this pierced heart (in this deck symbolized by a swan pierced by three swords) is not a permanent state of brokenness but a step along the continuing journey.

I was a bit surprised and discouraged to see this card - almost always interpreted as pretty straight-forwardly negative - in the position of the Treasure, although it certainly seems in keeping with the Four of Cups in the position of the Key. My immediate reaction was to think that this whole process, this quest, would just end in disappointment, betrayal and heartbreak. But the card also reminds me of the concept of the raw and exposed heart - the tender heart that is so exposed and so intimate with all things that it feels not just intense joy but also immense sorrow. This is a state of utter openness to the world, a deep vulnerability. Though it might not be the kind of reward I was hoping for, many of the other cards in the spread (which speak of finding balance between conscious and unconscious, between will and soul) seem to be leading up to this point. Even in the top row of cards (Cards 3, 6 and 9) there seems to be a progression, with Card 3, the Pack (the skills and assets the hero begins with) being the Eight of Swords, also depicting a swan pierced by swords and trapped by thorns. Card 6, which is itself the Sword (the unexpected gift or strength the hero discovers within herself that helps her defeat the Dragon in Card 7), is Temperance, which is an evolution of the calmness and hope counseled in Card 3. In this sense, the Three of Swords in Card 9 is a natural evolution, a heart that is willingly bared and raw, in which the swan no longer struggles against the blades. If you think of swords as a symbol of communication and intellect, this may even suggest a process by which cultivating centered temperance gives me a more "penetrating" insight into the realm of the heart/emotions/unconscious, or perhaps allows me to communicate about that realm more effectively in a way that touches others.

The two supporting cards I pulled for Card 9 were the Tower and the Hermit. Again, both major arcana cards supporting a minor arcana card. In the Tower, there is a suggestion that what has been built up in the past will come crashing down and the world will turn upside-down - and the Hermit certainly suggestions a time of leaving behind the life you've known before and journeying into the wild in search of truth and guidance. I'm not sure I have any deep thoughts on these cards - perhaps time will tell.

For Card 10, Home, I drew Death. Yeah, that's right.

So returning home to integrate these new gifts and skills into ordinary life will be a deeply, fundamentally transformative experience in which I literally die to my old self. .....Yay. Although I can't feel too bad about that (the imagery and artistry of the Death card in this deck, which depicts a phoenix triumphant, is so beautiful it's hard to feel bad about drawing it), part of me is not exactly thrilled that I'm going to face yet another transformative, (r)evolutionary transition or experience. (I think I've written about this before - about how sometimes I get sick of always have to evolve and transform with these spiritual or metaphorical deaths - but I guess that's Pluto's influence in me.)

The two supporting cards for this final drawing are: the King of Wands and the Seven of Wands. So once again, it seems clear that this is related to my projects and initiatives, and probably in particular my podcast work and my work as a volunteer naturalist. The King of Wands is a powerful figure who holds a great fiery energy in careful check, curved around himself like wings. He is a figure of clear sovereignty and power, but also of charisma and active initiative, although all of this is expressed through structure and order. The Seven of Wands is also a fairly position card (at least in this deck), depicting a mother fox protecting her young in an act of selfless courage - it is a card that symbolizes standing up for what you believe in and fighting for what you care about, and finding without yourself the courage and faith to overcome all obstacles even in the face of discouragement and competition. The fact that the artist specifically mentions faith is not necessarily a coincidence, I think.

I'm feeling somewhat bewildered by these intense cards and not sure exactly how to interpret them (though part of me keeps wondering just how much my daily drawings are influenced by my own moods and energies on a given day - since in the past couple days my period has started and my mood has, as usual, become somewhat worn and stretched thin (like butter over too much bread). Perhaps it would be helpful to revisit this spread at some point later, drawing all ten cards during the same session to see what insights they might yield.

I also want to experiment with a new spread Jeff has discovered in the book that accompanied his new steampunk tarot deck - one in which you rearrange the spread as you go and use the cards like interlocking gears to explore alternative outcomes and how to get there. Half divination, half magical working. I'd be curious about exploring that.

I also want to know what Jeff plans to do as his final "wrap-up" ritual as part of this spiritual work. I'd like to do something for myself, but I think I'll need at least a few days to ponder it and come up with something.

* I should add - Google has updated the Blogger UI and managed to make it suck even harder in a pretty profound way (like, f'ex, not automatically inserting paragraph breaks in the html, and also generally just making the dashboard hard to navigate with WAY TOO MUCH WHITE SPACE and, bizarrely, no bottom margin so that I'm literally typing at the very bottom of my screen with no way to scroll). So.... yeah. Good job, Google. What the fuck? Do you have a lot of self-hatred or something? Are you trying to fail? Are you trying to make people not like you? ::headdesk::

Storyteller Spread Day 1: Home

Using Dianne Sylvan's Storyteller spread, I begin this work with the card in the first position, representing home.

This is the card that speaks of the current situation, the place from which I will begin the journey and also, eventually, the place that I will return to with the treasure or sacred gift that it is my task to integrate into the world.

For each of these ten cards, I plan to draw one primary card and then, after some contemplation, two supporting cards, for a total of three for each given card place. (I'll carry only the first, primary card over to the next day's spread, though, so that I don't run out of cards before the end!)

For tonight's card, Home, I drew: the Nine of Cups. A very auspicious and joyful card, the Shadowscape deck depicts a merman leaning raptly over a golden, shining goblet while around him hundreds of golden fish swim in breath-taking, beautiful, graceful formation. This is a card of deep contentment and emotional fulfillment, of being swept up in the joy and even giddiness of the moment of present happiness. I close my eyes, and swiftly I am there beneath the waters, experiencing the sensual caress of the warm currents and the sweeping rush of the glistening creatures all around me. The shining goblet that I hold in my hands is smooth, cool and somewhat heavy - I gaze into its concave bowl as if looking into a shimmering golden sun, and the goblet seems filled with light and love and joy, an underwater reflection of the sun that rides the sky above the surface of the ocean. I feel a great happiness and gratitude to be here - but also an intense energy, almost as though it's hard to stay still. I just want to dance, to swim swiftly and joyfully!

The two supporting cards I draw are: the Three of Wands and the Eight of Wands (again). Both of these cards balance the emotional depths of the Nine of Cups with the energy and activity of the wands - and both speak to a journey which is just beginning. In the Three of Wands, the figure steps out onto a thin bridge that reaches out into a great valley - the sense of depth here is almost as great as in the ocean, but airy and light instead of fluid and shadowy. The figure steps out into thin air, and her steps - her dreams and intentions that guide her and urge her onwards - themselves become the bridge that she walks upon. She is guided by far vision - and this is also a card of momentary stillness, pausing the enjoy that vision and all that it can give before taking the next steps on the adventure. The Eight of Wands, as I wrote yesterday, is also a card about trusting to the greater patterns of the universe - instead of stepping out into thin air, this figure casts her wishes out upon the wind to be carried far and wide until they find new ground where they will root and grow into mighty trees. Again, this card signifies accomplishment but also a continuation of the journey to new places.

All in all, the emotional fulfillment of the primary card carries with it an energy and eagerness to move on that are reflected in the two supporting cards. The Home card in the storyteller spread is the place where the hero begins, and the place that she will leave either because of her own inner restlessness or because something comes along to shake her out of her complacency. Here, I think the cards are indicating that I have found a place of joy as well as sensual and emotional (and intuitive?) fulfillment in the depths of soul — but that this new stability is exactly what is giving me the energy and enthusiasm to set off on the journey ahead of me. Perhaps I have been frustrated about not moving forward for so long, that coming to a place of relative stability and peace, emotionally speaking, is exactly what is allowing me to move forward now. I do not have a fear of losing that fulfillment, and nor am I simply resting on my laurels and luxuriating in the sensual pleasures — instead, I'm excited about the possibilities that are opened up to me now that I have this joy in my life. Both the Three of Wands and the Eight of Wands indicate a moment of pause for vision and reflection (and, for the latter, finishing up loose ends of old work) that comes at the pivotal point between the past and the future work or journey to be undertaken. Laying the spread out left to right: Three of Wands, Nine of Cups, Eight of Wands, the energy pivots around the joy of the present moment (maybe the Three of Wands is us taking the leap to move across the country to a whole new city? and the Eight of Wands is my current work with web publishing and podcasting, among other things?) moving from left to right, from past to future with increasing stability and success.

A good place to start, I think.

Revised Uncensored To-Do List

Things I've Accomplished Since Samhain

- finish Sullivan's text on Saturn, read Greene's text on Saturn
- continue Flamekeeping shifts
- regular meditation (with candle ritual?) in the morning
- hillwalking at least three times a week
- yoga on non-hillwalking days
- Peace of the Three Realms prayer meditation at least a few times a week
- read book on ecology in Celtic spirituality/mythology
- started book on storytelling and human evolution
- write twice monthly for NUP
- continue to work with guest post submissions for NUP
- follow-up on Wild Earth editorial position w/DD
- research good DSLR camera and purchase
- clean house once a week (Tuesdays?)
- go through wardrobe and drastically reduce
- go through basement and drastically reduce
- go through craft cabinet and drastically reduce
- go through each room week by week to clear out things we're not taking with us
- donate clothes, toys, books, furniture
- organize electronics in preparation for move
- organize altar objects and décor in prep for move
- write wedding gift thank you notes
- print up photo cards for thank you notes
- send thank you notes by thanksgiving
- go out on a date with Jeff once a week
- cut down on plastic use drastically
- investigate eco-friendly alternatives for home use
- become a Seattle Volunteer Naturalist
- attend spring and fall training (Thursdays and Saturdays)
- teach at least two programs per month
- design one or two new programs to teach
- keep a naturalist journal
- participate in Pagan Blog Project 2012
- moved across the country
- found a new apartment

Revised and Updated To-Do List for Spring and Summer

(italics for new items)

Podcasting

- design website for Faith, Fern and Compass
- do weekly research for podcast topics
- set up payment for pro subscriptions
- record two episodes weekly with Jeff
- post-production editing

Astrology & Archetypes

- weekly meditations and journaling on Saturdays for Saturn Return
- read Arroyo's text on astrology and the four elements
- complete natal charts for as many friends and family as possible
- every 6 weeks (on solar & fire festivals), look at up-coming and just-passed transits
- read the other astrology books I picked up while on honeymoon
- work with tarot deck more frequently
- finally read Campbell's Hero with a Thousand Faces
- read book on story and human evolution (forget author)

Spiritual Practice

- continue Flamekeeping shifts
- finish four remaining DOTR lessons for each of the elements
- regular meditation (with candle ritual?) in the morning
- regular libations/offerings in the morning
- regular water/integration ritual in the evenings
- hillwalking at least three times a week
- yoga on non-hillwalking days
- Peace of the Three Realms prayer meditation at least a few times a week
- weekly tarot card reading (on Mondays?)
- practice guitar regularly
- new and full moon rituals each month

Deep Ecology

- become a Seattle Volunteer Naturalist
- attend spring and fall training (Thursdays and Saturdays)
- teach at least two programs per month
- design one or two new programs to teach
- keep a naturalist journal
- hillwalking at least three times a week (see under Spiritual Practice)
- read Integral Ecology
- read Lovelock's text on the Gaia hypothesis
- read book on environmentalism and aesthetics
- read book on "sound ecology" (revisit text on noise and social justice)
- read Oxford Handbook of Religion and Ecology
- look into the Alliance of Religions and Conservation
- become member of the International Society for the Study of Religion, Nature, and Culture

Writing

- participate in Pagan Blog Project 2012
- finish 30 Days of Druidry meme for blog
- write more poetry (poetry exercises from Palm of Your Hand?)
- write twice monthly for NUP
- continue to work with guest post submissions for NUP
- write quarterly Wild Earth feature for Aontacht
- brainstorm article ideas for submission elsewhere
- complete book manuscript for Graeme by early spring
- revise book manuscript by May 1st at latest
- work through Creating a Life Worth Living exercises
- work on Teen Druidry book manuscript

Photography

- purchase good photo editing software
- brainstorm a list of "projects" to pursue
- spend at least one afternoon each week working on photography (taking pics, editing)

Household & Health

- stick to meal plan for healthier, more balanced diet
- exercise with Jeff three times a week
- jog two to three times a week
- get bike fixed
- bike once or twice a week
- yoga and/or back-strengthening exercises three times a week
- try to get closer to 10,000 steps/day goal
- put up curtains for the new apartment
- unpack small decor items for apartment
- put up pictures and other wall hangings

Uncensored To-Do List, Revisited

Key

- Completed (or done on a regular basis)
- Not something I want to do anymore

Astrology

- weekly meditations and journaling on Saturdays for Saturn Return
- finish Sullivan's text on Saturn, read Greene's text on Saturn
- read Arroyo's text on astrology and the four elements
- complete natal charts for as many friends and family as possible
- every 6 weeks (on solar & fire festivals), look at up-coming and just-passed transits
- read the other astrology books I picked up while on honeymoon

Archetypes

- read King Warrior Magician Lover
- read Jung's relevant writings on archetypes
- work with tarot deck more frequently
- review Plotkin's work on soul development
- finally read Campbell's Hero with a Thousand Faces
- read book on story and human evolution (forget author)
- read Markale's text on Arthurian myths
- look at a theory of soul development that spans Plotkin, Campbell, astrology, tarot?

Spiritual Practice

- continue Flamekeeping shifts
- finish four remaining DOTR lessons for each of the elements
- regular meditation (with candle ritual?) in the morning
- regular libations/offerings in the morning
- regular water/integration ritual in the evenings
- hillwalking at least three times a week
- yoga on non-hillwalking days
- Peace of the Three Realms prayer meditation at least a few times a week
- journeying with Badger once a week (on Wednesdays?)
- weekly tarot card reading (on Mondays?)
- ogham work (maybe? divided up by elements?)
- practice guitar regularly
- practice drumming regularly
- new and full moon rituals each month

Deep Ecology

- hillwalking at least three times a week (see under Spiritual Practice)
- journeying with Badger (see under Spiritual Practice)
- read book on ecology in Celtic spirituality/mythology
- read Integral Ecology
- read Lovelock's text on the Gaia hypothesis
- read book on environmentalism and aesthetics
- read book on "sound ecology" (revisit text on noise and social justice)
- read Oxford Handbook of Religion and Ecology
- look into the Alliance of Religions and Conservation
- become member of the International Society for the Study of Religion, Nature, and Culture
- after the move, look into resources on local ecosystems/bioregion
- after move, spend hillwalking time each week connecting with new landscape

Writing

- finish 30 Days of Druidry meme for blog
- write more poetry (poetry exercises from Palm of Your Hand?)
- write twice monthly for NUP
- continue to work with guest post submissions for NUP
- follow-up on Wild Earth editorial position w/DD
- brainstorm article ideas for submission elsewhere
- work on finishing three short stories
- complete book manuscript for Graeme by early spring
- revise book manuscript by May 1st at latest
- work through Creating a Life Worth Living exercises
- work on Teen Druidry book manuscript

Photography

- research good DSLR camera and purchase
- purchase good photo editing software
- brainstorm a list of "projects" to pursue
- spend at least one afternoon each week working on photography (taking pics, editing)

Household & Family

- clean house once a week (Tuesdays?)
- go through wardrobe and drastically reduce
- go through basement and drastically reduce
- go through craft cabinet and drastically reduce
- go through each room week by week to clear out things we're not taking with us
- donate clothes, toys, books, furniture
- organize electronics in preparation for move
- organize altar objects and décor in prep for move
- write wedding gift thank you notes
- print up photo cards for thank you notes
- send thank you notes by thanksgiving
- get and read one or two stepmom-related books (maybe?)
- go out on a date with Jeff once a week
- choose pictures from the wedding to get as prints/album
- cut down on plastic use drastically
- investigate eco-friendly alternatives for home use

An Uncensored List of Things I Want to Do

Astrology

- weekly meditations and journaling on Saturdays for Saturn Return
- finish Sullivan's text on Saturn, read Greene's text on Saturn
- read Arroyo's text on astrology and the four elements
- complete natal charts for as many friends and family as possible
- every 6 weeks (on solar & fire festivals), look at up-coming and just-passed transits
- read the other astrology books I picked up while on honeymoon

Archetypes

- read King Warrior Magician Lover
- read Jung's relevant writings on archetypes
- work with tarot deck more frequently
- review Plotkin's work on soul development
- finally read Campbell's Hero with a Thousand Faces
- read book on story and human evolution (forget author)
- read Markale's text on Arthurian myths
- look at a theory of soul development that spans Plotkin, Campbell, astrology, tarot?

Spiritual Practice

- continue Flamekeeping shifts
- finish four remaining DOTR lessons for each of the elements
- regular meditation (with candle ritual?) in the morning
- regular libations/offerings in the morning
- regular water/integration ritual in the evenings
- hillwalking at least three times a week
- yoga on non-hillwalking days
- Peace of the Three Realms prayer meditation at least a few times a week
- journeying with Badger once a week (on Wednesdays?)
- weekly tarot card reading (on Mondays?)
- ogham work (maybe? divided up by elements?)
- practice guitar regularly
- practice drumming regularly
- new and full moon rituals each month

Deep Ecology

- hillwalking at least three times a week (see under Spiritual Practice)
- journeying with Badger (see under Spiritual Practice)
- read book on ecology in Celtic spirituality/mythology
- read Integral Ecology
- read Lovelock's text on the Gaia hypothesis
- read book on environmentalism and aesthetics
- read book on "sound ecology" (revisit text on noise and social justice)
- read Oxford Handbook of Religion and Ecology
- look into the Alliance of Religions and Conservation
- become member of the International Society for the Study of Religion, Nature, and Culture
- after the move, look into resources on local ecosystems/bioregion
- after move, spend hillwalking time each week connecting with new landscape

Writing

- finish 30 Days of Druidry meme for blog
- write more poetry (poetry exercises from Palm of Your Hand?)
- write twice monthly for NUP
- continue to work with guest post submissions for NUP
- follow-up on Wild Earth editorial position w/DD
- brainstorm article ideas for submission elsewhere
- work on finishing three short stories
- complete book manuscript for Graeme by early spring
- revise book manuscript by May 1st at latest
- work through Creating a Life Worth Living exercises
- work on Teen Druidry book manuscript

Photography

- research good DSLR camera and purchase
- purchase good photo editing software
- brainstorm a list of "projects" to pursue
- spend at least one afternoon each week working on photography (taking pics, editing)

Household & Family

- clean house once a week (Tuesdays?)
- go through wardrobe and drastically reduce
- go through basement and drastically reduce
- go through craft cabinet and drastically reduce
- go through each room week by week to clear out things we're not taking with us
- donate clothes, toys, books, furniture
- organize electronics in preparation for move
- organize altar objects and décor in prep for move
- write wedding gift thank you notes
- print up photo cards for thank you notes
- send thank you notes by thanksgiving
- get and read one or two stepmom-related books (maybe?)
- go out on a date with Jeff once a week
- choose pictures from the wedding to get as prints/album
- cut down on plastic use drastically
- investigate eco-friendly alternatives for home use

Diary - Dream

Sun: pisces (water/mutable), 6:45am - 6:18pm
Moon: waxing crescent, aries (fire/cardinal)
Earth: sunny and cold, hovering around freezing for most of the morning and then warming into the afternoon, but the sun is golden on the snow and spring is coming


I had meant to type this dream up this morning, but didn't have a chance. I'm not sure exactly when or how it started, other than the usual "wandering around some place with old friends." In this case, I believe Ellen and other high school friends were with me. At some point, we were rushing through an airport, having just landed and disembarked the plane, when we came across Joe in a security officer's uniform (or police, I'm not sure which). I recognized him as we approached him, and he recognized me, confusion and amnesia in his eyes. This is not the first time he has appeared in my dreams as a go-between of the dead, as has Freddy since he died. This time in particular, his skin seemed dark, and he had the look about him of Hispanic-African American that Freddy had, though his height, body and build were his own and I knew him as Joe, calling him by that name in the dream itself. I walked up to him, seeing how bewildered and confused he was, not knowing he was dead and not knowing how he had gotten there. I felt overwhelmed with a kind of sweet grief and compassion for him. He looked at me and asked me where he was, what was going on. I explained that we were in an airport, that my friends and I had just gotten off our plane. He asked, "Is that the way I came to be here, too?" And I held my hand up to his face, touching his temple with my fingertips, and said, "No, baby, I'm sorry. You didn't come the way we came." (Considering that I would never call someone "baby," and in fact it's a pet peeve of mine, the naturalness with which I addressed him that way struck me as strange after I woke up.)

Then we were moving on, out of the airport, and we were in the College Landscape again - not the campus where I actually went to college, but a landscape that's a mash-up of several different campuses I've been to, all kind of heightened to an archetypal level. Huge, cinder-block dorm buildings stretched up around one part of campus, and academic buildings in another. Ellen was dragging me along to a play that some of her friends were in, and just as we were entering the posh-looking theater lobby, I realized I was carrying around the heating pad I use when I'm having bad cramps. I also didn't have any purse or bag with me, and I stopped her and asked if we could run back to the dorms so I could drop it off. When she insisted no, we were going to be late and it was my own fault for carrying it around with me, I replied, "Well, I was in pain, and if you had warned me we were going to a play, I would have at least brought my bag along to put it away." In the end, I think we decided to skip the play after all, because soon both of us ended up back in the dorm building section of campus.

I realized that I did not actually have a dorm room, yet, but had to choose one (as it was moving-in day for everyone, with the first arriving able to snatch up the nicest rooms). I lost track of Ellen at some point as we each went off to search for our rooms — I think she went off to a hall or suite where a bunch of her friends were already rooming together. I found a house-like section of a dorm building (much like the honors students' house I was in in college), and decided to try to find a room there. I had been explaining to someone earlier (perhaps Ellen), that I had tried for an MFA once before, but just could not find the right fit for me and so I had decided to leave the program. This time, however, I was enthusiastic that my grad school experience would be much better. As I wandered this section of the dorm building, I found a stairwell curving up in one part of the house, and I followed it up. It seemed there was a room in the very peak of one of the gables, and I thought it might afford some privacy and a nice view... but as I climbed the stairwell, it got smaller and smaller, until I could barely squeeze through it. At the top, there was a tiny trap door just barely big enough for me to wriggle my shoulders and hips through, and then a room hardly bigger than a bathroom, half of which was taken up by a huge porcelain claw-footed tub, and another part by a desk, with only half a mattress on the floor to sleep on. I recognized this as the room I'd stayed in before during that semester of MFA work, and understood suddenly why I hadn't brought a purse with me to the play — there was no room for anything but me to fit through the door, not even a purse, let along a backpack or laptop or pile of books. I remembered hating going back to my restrictive room and never feeling like I could get things in or out easily. Then I understood that this was why grad school had never "fit" before — I had literally been too cramped and isolated up in the attic. There was some impression that this was supposed to be "my" room, but I decided, fuck that, and turned and walked back down the spiral staircase from where I'd come. Reaching the second floor, I found that one of the rooms was still free and unclaimed there — it had huge double doors leading into a spacious suite with a half partition, and huge windows overlooking the campus. The central hallway of the floor, where the steps came up from the floor below, was more like a sitting area, wide open with several groups of furniture (couches and comfy chairs) arranged for lounging and socializing. For a second, I felt a rise of panic when I realized that, if I chose that room right in the middle of everything, there was no way I could avoid people, I would definitely be mingling and socializing much more. But I squared my shoulders and decided that this was necessary, if I was going to give myself the space I needed to stay sane and healthy (and be able to accessorize with large purses for books and heating pads, and gaze out those huge windows to the horizon).

It was about then that I woke up.

My impression of this dream, which was quite vivid and visceral, was that it reflects to some extent the change in attitude I've had towards my writing recently, and deciding to embrace the idea of a "writing career" instead of turning my nose up at teaching and such as a distraction from writing. A couple weeks ago, I had two nights of dreams in a row that involved me wandering around huge, mansion-like houses with many rooms and winding hallways — getting lost in them and discovering strangers and folks in unexpected rooms where someone was holding lessons or leading choir rehearsal, things like that. I've come to think of these "house" dreams as being about my own personality (or perhaps, more specifically, my mind). When I was teaching myself how to draw several years back, I had a bunch of intense dreams in a row about being in in my "house" and pulling aside empty boxes or clutter to discover whole empty rooms I'd never known about, and the excitement of realizing that I had more "space" in which to live and enjoy than I'd known about before. This seemed almost too obvious a metaphor for "discovering new talents" by exercising a skill I had never realized I had. These recent dreams, centering on strangers being in the house and how I react to them, seems like it has to do with my ego sorting out its attitudes towards developing a more "public" face for my work... and the fact that these have all centered around or involved teaching or group gatherings in some way makes me think that it's particularly that aspect of my career that I've been trying to incorporate. It's hard to find a better metaphor for my experience of grad school before, and how my attitude has changed since then, than this idea of living up in a tiny, cramped attic with a door almost too small to fit through — so that I feel both as though I don't have a home and as though it's impossible to bring things "out" to share with others (or make my life easier, like having a purse so I could carry necessary items with me without being exposed and awkward). Moving down to the second floor and accepting that I will be interacting with others, but doing it for the spaciousness and accessibility, is a pretty good metaphor for my change in perspective recently. Instead of feeling overwhelmed, hedged in and vulnerable, I feel up to the challenge, knowing I'll also have a real "home" to come home to at night.

I'm not sure what role Joe played in all this, other than to be there for me as a guided into that deeper dream state. Perhaps I am feeling to some extent a "death" of some kind, too, a dying to the old self and a rebirth, though it is different from his literal dying. The fact that, when he was alive, he held a position of authority in my life, which he held lightly and with humor, and was also acting selflessly as a volunteer when he died, means that he's always been a kind of gentle, but forthright guide for me in these kinds of dreams (often seeming to involve life-and-death, like the dream about my unborn son-that-never-was)... even if we never were all that close when he was alive.