Feelings Feb. 5, morphing into Alcoholic Belief

Feeling a bit rudderless right now. I don't really know what this is about, though I suspect a pink cloud I've been inhabiting for a few months is finally starting to clear. (Oh, well.)

Perhaps it's also because my 41st birthday is just around the corner. I had hoped that during my 40th year I'd finally see Paris, but it wasn't meant to be. Still, I did get to tap into deity energy, and that's molto especiale. This year, I hope to go on a spiritual quest of some sort, to dig deeper into whatever my mission is for this lifetime. For the moment, there's this sensation of floating, of hanging back from making any commitments because I'm unsure of what I need to do. Like with relocating--do I just move to one of the places that draws me? Or do I do what I've been doing, sitting here and trusting that the Goddess will move me to the next right place at the right time? What actions do I take in the meantime?

I struggle also to identify what my feelings are at any given moment. I do notice that when I walk through parks and under trees I feel way better. But I've been feeling listless and uninspired when it comes to my writing and when it comes to what I want to do to live out a full and passionate existence, about which I generally feel unclearly.

I pray for awareness and acceptance, but it doesn't come easy. So consequently, I waste a lot of time on yahoo games for single players or sleeping (which may not be so much of a waste as I might lead myself to believe). I am looking forward to my upcoming vacation in the Midwest, though I feel nervous about it for some reason. Don't really know what that's about. But I'm going to Madison, WI for a week, then to Winona, MN for the Winter Witch Camp. (Should be a blast, I hope!)

Under it all I feel a bit of sadness that is of a mysterious source. I try to remember to choose life and choose existence, even though it gets to be a drag sometimes. It's not that hard when I look at the insane people around us all, who would have us believe that the EndTimes(TM) are upon us. The glazed-eyed disconnect common to all addicts covers their fearful faces, and I see that I am at least making the attempt toward giving more of myself to human beings all of whom are worthy of their love and desires. In looking at these angry, suffering faces, I become conscious of my projections onto them, and their greedy receptors for that seemingly unwelcome energy. They want me to perceive them as their enemy, as a threat. And, not that they aren't, but the perception itself is one of the addictions they are fixing with, because these people need to believe there are people out there who "know" they are the pieces of shit they think themselves to be, but would never acknowledge publicly. And who better in which to kindle this reflexive hatred but people they've decided are pariahs for going after the very things they want for themselves--sexual liberty and power, spiritual understanding, an awareness of their own sacred authority?

These people don't want my love, and yet they want my love. They want the fool thing I wanted for myself when I was in the sugar--to be loved for my contempt, my judgmentalism, my blaming of others for my loneliness, rage and suffering. I wanted to win an effing Pulitzer Prize for writing plays about how awful our world is. Celebrate the human condition? Me? No way, not when there were Fundamentalist Xtians out there X-ing people out they didn't approve of, and all those simps who followed them willingly, blindly.

There's an addled quality to these people that I see, that I identify with on some level. It reminds me "There but for the Grace of Freya Go I." (Freya's mysteries are the camp theme for WWC this year.) I have my areas where I am just as off-base in my own personal map of health and insanity. One difference between me and say, SpongeDob Stickypants is that I try to keep those aspects of myself private. SpongeDob, Jerry-Winky, Batpuke and the others go public with them and attract others of like insanity, sort of like drinking buddies, only they're more a Belief Buddies. Perhaps a couple of them are even thinking, "Well, I'm not as bad as that guy there, so I'm going to hang out with him so that I can remind myself not to get that bad."

There's an alcoholic logic to these people. If they weren't possessed so by Deimos (Terror) and Phobos (Fear), the sons of Ares who added grist to the mills of war and bloodshed, I would feel sorry for them. Kind of. There's enough of the Al-Anonic in me to see that I need to stay the F away from these vampires. But they do reflect something in me crying out for love, even as it militates against the thing it needs and desires more than anything else. Alcoholics only want love, but they don't feel like they really deserve it. So they must win love through doing things compulsively and controllingly, or forego love entirely. Both paths get old, fast.

I pray these people find God's/Goddess's will for them. The only prayer that makes sense after all. I pray for my own alignment with the Gods' will for me as well. Godsspeed.