Missing Loki

missedaspot

I don’t know if anyone will particularly find this interesting, but I thought I would share. For a while I’ve been having minor health problems. Nothing that is going to kill me today, but if I don’t get a handle on them they will certainly do so down the road. Or brain damage me, which is, about my worst nightmare. About a year ago (maybe less, but if feels like forever ago at this point) I was having some deep conversation with myself, and Loki, and the universe at large and He demanded I completely overhaul my diet.

He’s done this to me before, and I wasn’t happy, but did end up dumping caffeine, the sweet, dark nectar of the Gods. It was hell. It was horrid. It was hard. I felt much better.

I wasn’t eating terribly: my husband is vegetarian tending toward vegan, so I was eating with him part of the time. However, when I wasn’t with him I was eating drive through because I don’t feel like I have time to eat properly when I’m working. I was eating garbage fast food for breakfast almost every day of the week that I was working because it was so easy to get it and cheap. I was having doughnuts almost every morning too because the Krispy Kreme bin is right there beside the newspaper when I stop to pick it up. In the back of my mind I knew it wasn’t good, but I didn’t want to work harder at simply staying alive.

Plus, doughnuts are awesome. (As an aside: I eat organic at my house. I buy nothing but organic, wholesome foods for my husband and children, yet here I was eating fucking doughnuts.)

Loki told me to stop or I was essentially going to kill myself. NOW, when He exnayed caffeine for me at one point it was raising my blood pressure to extremely unhealthy heights because I’ve apparently developed a sensitivity to it. I can do de-caf for the most part, but even that can be iffy if there is too much caffeine in the decaf roast of the coffee. So, it’s best if I just avoid it.

When he started hinting around again that I needed to overhaul my diet I wasn’t happy. I went to the doctor and my blood pressure was pushing up to unhealthy ranges again and my other bloodwork wasn’t the greatest. Grumbling, I decided I would try to change things, but didn’t really want to. I resisted, doing well for a few days, fucking up for ten more. Then I went back and my blood pressure was even higher.

Loki: Cut the shit. No sugar. No salt. No dairy. No meat. No caffeine. Eat like your husband. He’s healthy. And knock this shit off. Why won’t you just do what you already know you need to do? It’s either shape up or die thanks to your genetics.

Me: You love meat!

Loki: No shit. Your body shouldn’t have it. You’ve known this for a while, but you continue.

Me: I know.

Loki: Then do it, Love. Stop being stubborn.

It’s food though. It’s a lot harder than it should be. I’m embarrassed to admit this has actually driven a wedge between myself and Loki, mainly because though I’ve done a lot to do what He wanted from me, I haven’t fully complied. I stopped buying sugary lattes all the time. I stopped buying cookies and doughnuts (for the most part.) I haven’t fully gotten on board though because it’s hard. I love that kind of food. I grew up on German food and rich, fatty farm food. We negotiated and he said I could have a day a month to eat as I chose, and I’ve still been having trouble getting there.

I recently found out my biological father has diabetes at 50, something I’ve been terrified of because my birth mother’s family also has it, and once again Loki has a point. My birth father is apparently not doing well either. That scared the shit out of me. I want to be around to do all the fun stuff with my family I’ve envisioned. I may get diabetes eventually, but I don’t want it to be because I couldn’t lay off the sweets. I want to be around to write and laugh and love. I need to try harder. He always has a point, and I’m so very ashamed that I’ve allowed this to come between us. I adore Him. I adore everything about His ecstatic, energetic, beautiful self, and I’ve been having trouble sitting with Him because I feel like an errant child.

But He doesn’t care the way I think He does. He doesn’t hate me because I’m having trouble. I’ve been tossing my human baggage His direction.

He gives a shit about me.

I have so much trouble with that concept. I’ve finally realized that I’ve been pushing Him away even as I’ve been lighting candles on His altar because of this enslavement to the food I want to continue eating when I shouldn’t. It’s insane. I’m addicted to crappy fucking food that isn’t even as good as the home cooked food I make.

I guess I’m writing this post because the struggle is real. Sometimes They ask us to do things we already know we should do. Sometimes They ask us to do things that seem ridiculous on the outside, but are perfectly legitimate because They have a longer view. And we don’t want to do it. We don’t want to do whatever they are asking because it’s HARD. Well, change isn’t easy, but Loki is a God of change. This piss ant struggle over what food I should and shouldn’t be shoving in my face capsized my entire religious practice because I didn’t want to change. I started to gradually change the way I was eating and my blood pressure has been getting steadily better. I started doing the things I should do. Then I relapsed a little, took a half a step back. Now I’m struggling forward again. But, I want it now. I spent almost an entire summer without Loki. I have been ignoring Him, and I know He hates that. I want to do things differently. Loki has been around. I’ve felt him checking on me frequently, but I haven’t been engaging.

Shame is a powerful thing.

But fuck that noise.

I’m getting healthier for myself and my family, and I feel like I can’t truly work with Them unless I’m healthy enough to delve into the energy work and that’s where I’m at with Loki. I’m trying to get healthy enough to do that with Him again.

I’m trying to think of a good way to tell a God I’m sorry.

Maybe something like this?

I’m so sorry I’ve been absent in my practice, my Sweetest Friend. I know I’ve been with you in spirit when I’ve been engaging in creating, in art, but it hasn’t been quite the same. I miss you and I’m sorry.

I’ve also missed My Sneaky Starshine, whoever you are.

And thanks, Odin, for not forcing the issue. I know you could have and you are letting me work it out on my own.

Thank you Lady Sigyn for showing me the perseverance is in my realm of control. Thank you for being Victory Woman.

Hail to the Gods!

Satanists are Pagans Too

SatanistsandLokeans

This meme was fueled by a discussion on a widely used pagan forum about whether or not to give a booth to Satanists …because they’re Satanists and “not pagan”. Excuse me? When did that happen?

And Satanists are generally no more disruptive than other Pagans at events. I’ve seen many a drunken, naked participant, especially at week long camping circles.

I mean, I know it might not be a popular idea, but I can’t think of anything so opposed to Christianity, as Satanists are. If they are squarely in the Abrahamic paradigm, which many Satanists are not, even then shouldn’t we welcome them? They’re worshipping a different god than the Christians, and that, really, is all it seems to take to shelter under the umbrella of Paganism. That’s not even getting into the discussion of Luciferianism and the Satanists that don’t accept the Abrahamic paradigm. The ones who go, NOPE, these gods existed before the bible and the bible got it wrong. (I’m kind of in that camp, since genesis talks about a council of gods making the world if you read it in Hebrew and understand the different nuances of the word forms.)

Where does all this self righteous Paganism come from? It reminds me far too much of the Heathens who cower from Loki because he’s “evil”. Loki’s not evil, He’s just got shit to do and He gets it done. I suspect Lucifer is the same way. I’m sure His people Adore Him, He has His Loves, and does His good deeds and bad deeds in the world just like every other entity.

Lokeans probably share a special empathy with, or would that be sympathy for, Satanists. Both of our deities get single sided stories told about them, are feared and constantly maligned, and then people are surprised when They get shitty with the occasional irreverent mortal who doesn’t expect anything better from them and calls them up anyway. That’s assuming folks even get the real Lucifer or Loki on the line. I’ll always defend Satanists because I would hope someone would take up the cause of Loki’s people in our absence.

Dr. Loki Redux

For those of you who have followed this blog for some time you may remember that Loki Himself donned a white coat and tried to play doctor with me a while back, and not in that fun way. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that caffeine was killing me. To stop drinking coffee.

Now, there is little I wouldn’t do because He told me-I picked up and moved my entire family because He basically said it was TIME and it has worked out for us, thankfully, but …my coffee?

I tried. I stopped drinking it for about a month and felt better, but then I started working hectic hours and sleeping minimal hours and the Coffee Dragon crept back into my day.

Oh, sweet dark nectar.

All the while getting the frowny face from Loki, but He mostly ignored it after telling me about it other than a few pokes here and there.

Now, my doctor has told me it’s sending my blood pressure way, way too high because, guess what, caffeine is a drug. It’s not sending me into Strokesville, but over time it will do not great things to me.

Yeah.

Yeah, always listen to Dr. Loki.

Balance

I don’t do balance well. Balance to me is leading one of those serene lives where you do everything in its own time and still have the time and energy for family and friends.

I don’t do that well.

I lose myself in projects. LOST. I’m very all or nothing. I bow out of my life when I get sucked into a project. Me? Stage left. Gone. I’ll be nothing other than my project for months at a time.

And Himself hasn’t helped on this front-at least not my stress about it-because now I feel like I’m splitting my time three ways-Projects, Family, Himself (who also falls under projects and family in some ways, but still for clarification I think this works).

This lack of the ability to balance is such a large problem for me that at one point I envisioned my life thusly: Me-alone- working, working, working on my projects-academia, research, writing-with no one else, not even family, and maybe the occasional one night stand for some stress relief. My life didn’t take that path though, and now I struggle.

My single mindedness is a double edged sword. It has let me get a lot done in a very short amount of time on more than one occasion, but it has also cost me. Friendships. I’ve lost more than one friend because I simply couldn’t make myself give them time. Relationships-ditto. I’ve lost a few people I loved a lot, but didn’t love enough to give them what they needed. I missed my brother’s wedding because I was busy working on something. I can’t even remember what it was now, but nothing else seemed important at the time.

I’m going to ask Loki to help me with this in some way. That’s kind of a frightening prospect. I never know what His version of helping will be, and usually it isn’t something I would have even thought about before hand. Change is hard. Change is scary sometimes.

Before I ask Him formally, not that He hasn’t tried to get me to do some version of this before, I’m going to try to chant more. I’m going to try to sit and meditate more. He’s tried to get me to unwind before, but every time I manage to I crank the heat up on myself twice as hard afterwards because I’ve “lost time”. I haven’t been good enough. I haven’t been trying hard enough. Three things I don’t do well: vacations, down time, and compliments. The reason for all three is rooted in some very unhappy thoughts I am always contending with. I feel like I don’t deserve them, when it gets right down to it, because I haven’t done enough or done enough well to deserve them. And gods help anyone who tells me I am attractive. A wet blanket of mortification smothers what should be a good feeling for me. The pleasure starts to bloom, and then a small voice, sometimes one I can barely hear, picks apart the compliment.

Maybe some of this is part of a fear of Love?

I don’t really know.

So-how do I convince myself I am worth things that another person might just assume as a personal right? Why do I feel that way to begin with? Why can’t I find a happy medium for all of the things I am trying to accomplish?

I don’t know. Shadow work is in order, I suppose, and Mercury Retrograde is a fine time to do it.

And when I ask Loki to help me He’s either going to make me shit can that fear or He’s going to make me walk with it. Or some other third option I haven’t thought about.

Well, here’s to attempting Balance.

Almost Crazy

I’ve been thinking of all of the times I almost went crazy today. All of the times I almost irretrievably fucked up my life. There are more than I would like. I can sift through them, a mountain of poor choices in my mind. Everything from crossing into the crosshairs of law enforcement to unsafe sex and poor relationship choices. I crammed a lot of living into my younger days, the teen years, careening from one bad choice to the next ratcheting the potential fall out higher and higher on the list of life long consequences.

Somehow, none of this falling apart ever screwed me over. Not in any meaningful way.

I could be dead.

I’m not.

I might say I’m lucky, and I am. I’ve always had that push of something keeping me safe in spite of me trying to tear the world apart, but luck? Luck or Loki?

Hmmm…..

He says He’s been hanging around longer than I realize, and I’m inclined to believe that He probably has been the more I pick back over my life re-evaluating it.

When I was about 12 my life started sliding apart in my mind. Nothing seemed right. This wasn’t a result of puberty, at least I don’t think so, because I’d actually been an extremely early bloomer and started getting most of my secondary sex characteristics and all the wonderful hormone spikes at 10. My life felt like it wasn’t mine anymore. Whatever solidness I’d managed to carve out of the upheaval of my existence before my twelfth year disintegrated.

I decided maybe my problem wasn’t me, so much as I couldn’t stand the place where I was. The life I was stuck in, and I assure you I felt very stuck. I thought things would never change and never get better. Every second seemed like a minute, and every minute a year. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I wanted to get gone. So, one night at about 3 in the morning, I stole a car, deciding to go all Kerouac and leave. I wanted to get the fuck out of my own life. At the age of 12. That didn’t seem at all unreasonable at the time.

It was a spectacular fail. I got a fair bit away from my home before a police car flashed me (I’d never driven a car before, so who knows what I was doing. Maybe driving with my high beams on?) and in my desire to just never, ever go back I decided to run, knowing full well it was a reckless choice. I led the police officer on a merry chase, hands sweating on the wheel, the car silent with the exception of my heavy breathing in the dark, cool spring air hitting my face from the rolled down window. We went from main roads to back roads I’d travelled my entire life where I hoped to lose the police officer, failing to realize that he’d grown up there and knew them better than I did. It all came to an end when a deer jumped out in front of me on a winding back road in the foothills of the Appalachians. The car was hanging over the edge of a large drop that it did NOT tumble over, somehow. And I remember after spinning out (and missing the deer) I was feeling safe and warm there, hanging almost at my death nestled between bowed out pieces of guard rail. Protected. I rolled around in that feeling in my head, adrenaline shooting through my system, hands bouncing on the steering wheel while I watched and waited for the cop to come up to me, gun drawn.

Cop: “Driver’s license and registration?” Gun in my face.

I’ll never forget it. I laughed and laughed and the cop started to smirk too before he put his gun away, realizing I was a child-person, and took me out of the car. This was a young, small town cop and he didn’t cuff me. He didn’t pat me down and he later got into trouble when they found my pocket knife in the back of his cruiser. I didn’t notice it fall out of my pocket. We waited for another cop to hit the scene before he took me to the tiny police station in town where I refused to tell them my name for a few hours, just hoping to be sent anywhere but home. I wanted something new. Anything, even something bad.

I ended up spending time working at the police station for my public service portion of my punishment where I learned such helpful things as how to disassemble parking meters using only a screw driver and other such things from the cops who took me under their wing. I also spent an entire summer re-evaluating what I wanted my life to be someday and my future self to be and it was NOT the people and things I saw around me.

I think a lot of things-mundane and otherwise converged on me at this point in my life and I went kinda nuts with it, and then after that summer things just started sliding into place for me. I don’t know if it was good that it happened to me so young because-went kinda nuts, had no center to hold onto, had no spiritual practice, was throwing myself hard against the walls of Christianity, had very little familial support, had no friends who got what was happening to me-just my life was FLAIL. Flail. And then suddenly- it wasn’t. I found witchcraft and focused in on Athena of all Goddesses and my course swung drastically to the left. I started learning to deal with the “otherness” in my life instead of being scared every day.

Just one of the times my life almost went wrong and I’m fairly sure Himself had a hand in righting it and keeping me safe and alive.

Looking for the Illusive “Good Job”

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This work was done by Ofools on Deviant Art and fairly accurately depicts the way I’m feeling Himself right now. I have kind of an “eye of the tiger” (Old school) theme running around in my head today. I’ve got a getting shit done montage playing out. Why?

I quit my job. Now what?

It was irresponsible of me.

(Side note: Isn’t it really strange that I can type and type and type, but I don’t really think in WORDS in my own head? It’s terrifically difficult for me to plan or digest anything without writing it down. I don’t think that’s normal.)

Why did I quit my job in phone sales? Well, if you’ve never done phones sales it may not make sense. I hated it. I was working for a mainstream company with shady sales habits. I hated pushing garbage products on elderly people who didn’t have money to spend because they are poor. Our elders deserve better. I quit because I hated trying to hustle old people into taking programs they don’t want or need in the vague hopes that they will forget to cancel said programs after the introductory period so the company I am working for can make money hand over fist. I hated skating around the truth every day for eight hours a day when I’ve worked so hard to bring it central to my own existence.

Definition of Job:

Not a career path (see Career). A means of procuring income often at the degradation of soul and sanity.  Jobs are occasionally secured at disreputable companies knowingly, but over time become less and less appealing. A job is taken usually in the throes of survival instincts.

Definition of Career:

 A calling, often professional and usually requiring further education beyond high school. Sometimes the career brings in enough money to justify the student loans and sometimes it doesn’t, but always a person’s soul is at peace with the career path.

And I hated being rewarded for doing it. Rewarded a fucking pittance compared to what the company was taking in, but rewarded none-the-less.

I would like to say I quit my job because I had an attack of conscience, but that’s not entirely honest either. I quit because I didn’t like it, flat out. I didn’t like the drain on my time and patience and creative energy. I didn’t like sitting on my ass for up to an eight hour stretch. I’ve gained weight, I’m unhealthy, and my sex life is frankly non-existent because a stressed person isn’t a person doing a whole lot of fucking. I hated talking on the phone to people who thought they were better than me or who were afraid to talk to me for fear they’d be talked into spending money or something they didn’t really want on need.

I didn’t like my job.

And that’s okay, except that my family needs money to survive.

So, I’ve kind of fucked us.

And when it comes down to things like fucking my family over I’d like to blame Himself. You heard me. Loyal Friend. Devoted. I see Him as my Muse and part of my central focus in the universe and I’d like to blame Him. He’s such a part of me and my life it’s almost instinctive. I’d like to say, “I have this impulsive nature from o/Our association” and blame my poor planning and execution on Himself, but I hate it when people do shit like that. Yes, He didn’t seem pleased with my job, but mostly because it was a soul suck and I hated it. Loki is my Friend and it isn’t nice to blame my shitty planning on my friends, but…

It was so satisfying to tell my manager I was leaving.

It was so wonderful walking out of those doors knowing I didn’t have to force myself to walk through them again day after day.

And Himself? He’s most likely going to be at my side helping me to do whatever I can to survive. He wants me to relax, unclench, unwind and I think w/We thought I would if I had money coming in of any sort, but I didn’t. I was worse. So, now I’m back to the drawing board staring down the hollow tunnels of zeroes on my bank account. With Him at my side.

And I’m trucking forward. Planning THIS part of everything, at least. I’m attacking new goals. I’m making career plans as well as looking for a job, and if He happens to help me out of this jam (yeah, to be fair He may have had a hand in it SOMEWHERE-always give Himself His due), I will be grateful as always.

And feel blessed and the tiniest bit baffled at what I could have possibly ever done to deserve Someone like Himself in my corner, but Mundania doesn’t usually sort itself out while I rest on my laurels, so I’m churning out the job applications and I will be until I’ve got money coming in again.  

Hail Loki! Hail to the Muse! Hail to my Sweetest Friend.