Tonight was the final critique for graphic design. If there is one thing I have learned in that class, it is that graphic design is not my strong point. Far, far from it. Graphic design requires a person to be very much in control of all elements of the project, especially with my nemesis: color. When I work, I am not always in control - I'm merely a channel and I often don't think about how the color works in my art. I simply try to let it happen. In any case, I know where some of my limits are now. Thank the gods no jobs depend on that class!
I had an interesting discussion afterwards with two of my classmates - friends, actually. We ended up trading what amounted to paranormal "war stories." Of course, it would be at the end of the semester I discover I had something more than the ordinary in common with them. I thirst for conversations with other folks who understand what it is like to be able to sense things that don't necessarily belong in this realm. I like to "talk shop" and it's very rare that I get to do so.
We were talking about different ways to banish unwanted entities from a space when I mentioned that you could simply open up a portal and let them leave that way. The response I got was, "Yeah - but portals are hard and there's the possibility something else will come through." I almost made an ass out of myself though - before I thought I said, "They are?!" I thought everyone could control them easily - I had no idea. I have no idea what that means either, if anything.
I had a bit of a revelation while we were talking: the hardest tests of faith come, not in times of crisis, but in times of peace. It's in those times when everything is calm and quiet the doubt can try to creep in. Think about it: when danger threatens, the first thing we say is, "Oh god, let everything be all right." There is no doubt in these times that something greater than ourselves is protecting us. But when was the last time you said, "Oh god, absolutely nothing is happening. All is quiet?"
It's in those times I can feel the most alone. I can wholeheartedly (Ha! I wrote whole-hart-edly, hart being a type of deer - not only one of my animals but also that of my patron.) I can wholeheartedly believe in gods who are willing to protect and help me but it is much harder to accept the idea they may be willing to listen to and be with me in the repitition and yes, the sometime boredom, of everyday life. It's also in these times I doubt the very existence of the gods. It can be easy to convince myself the messages I receive come from no higher than some part of my own brain and it is just more proof that I am crazier than I thought.
That sounds crazy in itself, doesn't it?
I read a book, The Quotidian Mysteries by Kathleen Norris, which talks about this very thing from a Catholic standpoint. She contends it is in those very times - the routines of the day - where the greatest contact can be made simply because they are routine. It is in the stillness that comes from following a routine that give you a chance to "hear" the gods and the Universe speak. The Zen concept of "Chop wood, carry water" is the same concept, forcing you to pay attention to the routines of the day and find the stillness within them.
Mare of the Dreamtime,
Stag of the Vines,
I call to you.
I call to you to open my eyes to your presence.
I call to you to open my ears to your voice.
I call to you to open my heart to yours.
Mare of the Dreamtime,
Stag of the Vines,
I call to you.
Help me remember.
Well dearhearts, I need to study for my Philosophy final. Sweet dreams.
Page and graphics Copyright 2004 D. Firewolf
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