Be-aware n gratitude.....aka award winning fuckwit....

Sleeping it our cosy beds at night, sitting upon our chairs or sofa’s in relative comfort…..do we realise that’s what it is? Does gratitude for the cup in our hand, with it’s steaming warm beverage exude through our pores? The medications that keep us in states of well being….physically, mentally and emotionally. Our whole bodily systems, indeed functioning as the web does second to second without conscious thought. Are we acknowledging of them as blessings?

Let alone the beauty of the nature and sentience of our capacity to place bare feet on the Earth, or see sky unpolluted or dim of pollution’s haze, overwhelming light coming only from the moon?

Our relative warmth as humans that encourages a stranger, or beloved to share kindness and general attitudes of supportive assistance when we are lost, vulnerable, or wounded? What if you were born, or life created you an award winning fuck wit…..hostile, angry, bitter, aggressive. Few would respond with anything other than disdain, and we may be only a few steps away from Maslow’s triangle’s unravellings....

He placed ‘home’ at the base of this. Homelessness, without choice, without a sense of belonging…..is only a few arcs of circumstance away from us all, including we who dwell in places of relative privilege. Out of war zones, or are we? Even if our screens keep it seemingly and conveniently at bay, or distant?

Yet I do not aim to plant seed’s of fear, there’s enough of that going round, but GRATITUDE. Great attitude….there’s a word game pondering….ha!

I’m not lecturing to anyone, if not myselves, as I type this in the dark alone. After the passing into spirit of my beloved feline familiar, who has been my companion for 25 years. Mayhap more. My relationship to time is a bit iffy but to her strong. Even now echoing in her face beside me, that purrs and says determinedly, ‘thank you for taking care of me (she was gently assisted in passing peacefully in my arms, to classical piano and whispered loving words, well loudly spoken...she was a bit deaf by the end), please do the same for yourselves’ In this time of grief. Grief and greed distort. Wounding, grief and greed…..beware….be-aware.

I have just woken from a nightmare, where gratitude didn’t exist in me, and I was in the base of Maslow’s triangle homeless and without possessions. Not even a frock, a decent jumper, let alone a phone. Apart from a certain degree of creativity, from which I could divulge sketches to sell.

As I gazed, thinking of the upcoming winter at a caravan sales lot. Beyond my means, let alone paying for the un PBS (Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme) subsidised medications that could keep my sanity (‘scuse using the ‘s’ word) intact. I have no scripts, no ID to prove. There was no computer ledger or record of me….

How long will it be? I wonder from my fallen state, before I am crazed and fragmented, eaten alive by my own biochemistry sabotaging my perceptive states? Frightening events to have looming on the horizon, as many on the planet do? Mama Gaia, where did your child go astray? Award winning fuckwit? Humung bean?

Am I in the USA, Gaza, Sydney this nightmare didn’t specify, does life?

Do I even have drinking water, base line medical treatment, let alone access to herbology (although some 70 % of the worlds health care is provided by women in the home utilising plants I heard The World Health Organisation quoted, largely due to need and tradition) a meal, a blanket, some form of distraction like a book, writing gear? Do you? Could flood or fire take it away in a breath, I’ve tasted n seen some of the ravages after the fact and that’s a frightening experience. Does our complacency in our comfort replace our vision and senses acknowledgement. What of a safe space? The stars, campfires of the ancestors blink down upon us all, wherever and whatever our circumstances. Crying for our children, our Elders, ourselves, our land and the sentient beings we share her with, who suffer. We have enough for all. So how is it not shared? Back to wounding, greed and grief….

I’m not really into holding hands in a circle and singing of pieces of peace, and I don't injoy politics. I am an award winning fuckwit remember, and not real grand at group dynamics, but could perhaps be convinced by that determined organ that pumps circulating life blood through my veins 24/7. Which in the chakra system is green like the plants and centred betwixt our breasts…….

Amethyst the Unicorn......or as a friend described them, a Pegacorn...

We all like to feel a bit special and magic blessed eh? It's cause for hope and marking with a quiet smile. Especially on em days when the loads of the world can feel they weigh heavy. In whichever worlds you engage, if and when. This is Amethyst (above) one of my Spirit Guides, and they make me feel this way, when they arrive within range of my inner vision. So I felt to share, with whomever ambles by....

 

The Nourishment Faerys......we all have one, or several...within and without....

 

Talisman mirror for protection and deflecting projections.....

Sometimes in our hoods, shit goes down. Just how it tis. I regularly set magical wards around the house and land I care for, and  dwell within alongside my familiar Nomadcat. Lowering them regularly to allow energies that needs be released and move on, to do so. A ward that keeps out, also keeps in.

The above sigil mandala,  was created to both center myself in conscious meditation and thus my core, whilst stopping energy projected at me. Infact, its painted on the back of an op shoppe mirror, so it will reflect back and away. Its been a fair while since a painting emerged so t'was lovely to craft this.

I placed the mirror facing outwards, and the mandala in a place I can see it and be reminded of it's focus. Whilst crafting in sacred space, ease surfaced, and the previous triggering is now alleviated and I can move on.....

Blessed Bloodwood windfalls see the cauldron fires burning again...

 

The Craft and the crazy, can and do they coexist? The importance of GROUNDING.....

 

I would like to speak a little to two phenomena that, may, coexist. 1) A deep loving commitment to healing of energies in place (waters, air, land) and remnant wounded resonances therein, if / where possible. Alongside, 2) trauma and stressors that can push ones sanity beyond boundaries into, let's face it psychosis, or states close to. None of these are words I use lightly, or without a great sense of rawness and vulnerability touching my core.....

These topics are not easy ones, not comfortable, but perhaps important, enough for to me to raise from the sediments within, for I believe that with the dominant paradigm we live in, those deemed mad may well be carrying (literally) more than a kernel of truth. That our continent has a story including terrible acts that ripple out and remain shadowed in the land, alongside beautyous demonstrations of her care. For me she, is a her....our mother beneath our feet.

I feel also, that the tide is turning, as more folks begin to take a peek at the bedlam of more than one aspect of modern life....

What I am trying to express in the rambling that is my way, is that there is a commonality in the perceptual sliding between the worlds, in both crazy misperception, and conscious mending works of ritual, BUT also important differences in how and in what one is GROUNDED. Also, that trauma effects both mind, earth and spirit. Thus linking them in the realm of the empathic, that may lead to a blurring of boundaries between that witch is going on....

I am speaking to these topics because they have scarred my life, and I'm feeling there be others too, I know there are. We gather, or work in solitude, with intention. 

Indigenous Elders, those arising and other stewards, I offer my respect to you, and your ways of knowing and caring for country that may include song, dance, music, burning, cycle marking, harvest methods, supporting the assistance of lost / wayward spirits to move to where they belong, and beginning to mend scarred lands and people....

The commonality I'm focusing upon is that there are realms beyond what may be called 'ordinary reality', day to day living that are being experienced by an increasing number of people. The difference is in perception of the character, or tone, of these other dimensions to life. In trauma states of triggering, or lack of knowledge / skill, these may become terrifying, and nightmarish. In conscious ritual we work to hold spaces that connect, nourish and nurture. Even if said spaces contain shadow work that is challenging, there is an inner compass, or guidance system. Like the phases of the moon shift. Be that through meditation upon, inheritance of  ways, or mentoring in, that prevent total immersion creeping in, and upon folk. So that one may swim, not drown, so to speak...

Yes, I believe that aptly prescribed medicines, and herbal allies, can support a shifting from trauma states of relating to more co-creative ones. With clarity and a regulated nervous system comes choices, decision making and capacity. Safety and response-ability. That said sometimes empathic souls simply seem to absorb the states of un/well land we connect with, as with the people around us. Healing places and otherwise influence us and thus we need to care for selves, as well. 

It seems to be, for me at least, a balancing act, in processes betwixt being out and about, and retreating into our sanctuary home. I am just beyond 3 months returned to this space, and doing better. Blessings to the spirits of land, sky and water for allowing me to return eh.....

It seems The Craft and The Crazy’s can coexist, BUT tis a true story that a sensing of place can heal and mend the latter, and increase t'other, when GROUNDING OUT is involved. That this calls in practical magics too, like good sleep, connnextion to a sense of community as comfy with and mutual supports, purpose, eating well, movement,  creativity, and all otherwisely medicines as called for….