old man sutton

The adventures through life and spirit of a single father, lover and man.

There are times in the lives of all of us that define us.  Times where we are forced to test what we are made of.  Times that push us beyond our limits, out of our comfort zones, where we must stand or fall.  To live in such times, brings us great fear.  We gnash our teeth, and question the fairness.  We wish that we would never have lived to see such times, we hope that they can’t happen in our lifetimes.  All of us who have ever had to experience this, question why.  While we often reach these times through paths of our own choosing, at the same time often there is no avoiding them.  It does no good to wonder why us, why now.  The times come, and it matters little why.  What matters is what we do with them.

When hope fades, when fear reigns, when pain becomes unbearable, when the odds are stacked against us, when everything seems impossible … these are indicators we have reached such times.  Our normal reaction is to cower, to hide, to give up.  We wish to deny the reality of such times.  We lose our hope, we lose our ways.  We slow down, take stock, and stop.  The fear of change, of overcoming the odds, of facing the darkness with our own meager light is powerful.  The longer we stand still and figure the odds, the harder it becomes to move again.  We begin to tell ourselves we are weak, that we can not possibly face these fears, that there is no way we can succeed.  Perhaps we approached such times from a place of strength, but as the time becomes more difficult, we succumb more and more to the fear, to the pain, and wish to retreat back to our comfort zones.

Facing adversity in such times is hard.  But we are made of sterner stuff, we who are human.  We have many stories and tales, both fictitious and founded in fact, where we overcome the odds.  Where armies who are outnumbered choose to fight, despite being outnumbered.  Where individuals with the world stacked against them soldier bravely onward.  Where one who has been knocked down repeatedly continues to get back up and try again.  We understand that perhaps we are destined to lose, but we get back up and face this with courage.  We stand, we fight.  We strive to overcome.  There is a light within us all that can not be extinguished, if we chose to see it.

Perhaps at times we still fail, but we fail knowing we have faced the situation to the best of our abilities.  We have faced our fears and proved our worth.  And yes, oftentimes we find we can overcome.  Our will is a powerful thing, and often has little to do with reality.  While we live and breathe, while our heart beats, while there is an ounce of blood in our veins or a breath left in our lungs, we can continue to push on, to strive to overcome, despite the fear, the sorrow, the pain.  We are unique, in that we can bend the odds around us, and charge through the odds, meeting success regardless.

Sometimes, when we look into the darkness, we can see no light through the other side, and so, struggle to remain in the light we know.  But the darkness stays there, lingering, beckoning, and waiting to be faced.  It spreads through time, growing darker, deeper.  We can not hide from it forever.  Truth must be faced, reality must be acknowledged.  Despite the odds against us.  Whether this is facing the reality of a relationship whose time is over, a love that is not enough and never will be, financial ruin, or even death itself.  Eventually, all things change, and all things must be acknowledged.  There is no life without risk or change.  There is no happiness without sorrow.  There is no light without the darkness.  There is no hope without adversity.  The only way to live, to find happiness, to realize hope, is to accept the road ahead of us.  We can not change these things, we can not run from them or hide from them forever.  They will catch up to us eventually.  It does not matter how we got here, for we are here.  It is NOW.  What matters now, is how we face them.

In my veins, I bear the blood of my ancestors.  I bear their memories.  I feel the times my people have faced the odds, have struggled, and have stood fast and true.  All things change, and often in ways we wish they wouldn’t.  There is no going back.  There is only ever forwards.  We can not mourn the past forever, we can not pick up the threads of a life that has ceased to be true.  Some truths are not strong enough to move forward with.  There is only honesty and acceptance, despite how scary this may be.  In a couple short years I have been forced to accept many of these.

Despite loving my ex-wife, despite our children, despite the vows I had made to her, despite the things we could have done to find more happiness … despite all this, I lacked a fire for her.   I had to face the unthinkable, and say goodbye to the life we had.  I had to accept us as who we truly were.  There was and always will be love between us, but it is a love that is without passion.  We had problems communicating, with intimacy, with honesty, and accepting each other for who we were.  These were the problems of our marriage, very real problems.  And all problems that could be addressed, had they but stood on their own.  But more than being problems, they were side effects.  They were not the cause, but the consequences of a deeper problem.  A love without passion, a love that despite both our desires and hopes that it could have been enough, never could be.  Always underneath was the knowledge that we would always desire more.  That our passions lie elsewhere than with each other.  Perhaps I did reach deep enough into the core of her to awake a passion for me.  Perhaps.  Through time though, she has come to see that she lacked that for me, despite her protestations in the face of losing me.  She was forced to face her fears, to face the darkness, and in doing so, found change and truth.  As did I.  The sorrow was unimaginable.  To give up all I had worked for, to give up all that I had hoped we could be.  To give up the family I had tried so hard to create, the love I tried so hard to tend … no matter my fears at losing that, the truth was … it wasn’t there.  Only by facing that truth, and accepting it, have I been able to progress beyond that fear, and stand ready to face the future.

And what a future it has been.  Looking back, I knew this would be hard, but I had no idea how hard it was going to be.  I knew I would likely struggle to make ends meet, but I had no idea it would be this hard.  I knew I would be heartbroken, but I had no idea how close my heart would come to being destroyed.  I knew my children would suffer, but I didn’t really think the aftereffects would be so far reaching.  I knew things would never be the same, but I had no idea how much they would change.  I had hoped we would be able to remain close, but even with how well we get along, there is a distance now that can not be bridged.  I closed the doors, I burned the bridge, I shed my tears, and despite the fact that things have been so much more difficult and tragic, more painful than I ever thought I could bear, I have beared it.   I have faced it.  I have come out on the otherside, and I have found hope.  I have found I am still alive, that life goes on, and there are still futures spread before me.  There is no going back.  There is only ever forward.

I find myself in financial ruin.  I am so far behind on all my bills that I see no hope.  I have income that barely provides groceries and gasoline, yet life goes on and every month the debt against me stacks and grows and builds.  I stand the risk of losing my house.  My water has been off for almost a week.  My phone is shut off.  My internet is shut off.  Soon, I’m sure my gas and electric will be disconnected.  I owe thousands in back taxes to the city.  I owe thousands to the utility company.  I owe tens of thousands to my mortgage company.  I don’t currently own auto insurance.  I sit here day after day, trying to find work and failing.  I see no hope.  I see only everything stacked against me.  I long to give up.  I am afraid to act, afraid to move, afraid to even answer the phone and listen to another harassing debt collector.  I am afraid of losing everything I own.  I am afraid of continuing forward.  But even more so, I am afraid of not doing so.  If I give up, if I turn my back on everything I have accepted, everything I have found to be true, I am afraid that I will cease to live and cease to have my opportunity to find the truth of why I set out on this path in the first place.  Some days it is SO TEMPTING to just call her up, and look to put the past behind us, to grab on to the love we still share, to pick that back up, and to have my comfort zone back.  It is a strong urge, that I fight.  It might work, we might find happiness even, but I know I would not be truly living.  The doorway to that path was opened by another.  And that’s been scary from the get go.

Despite how much that terrifies me, it terrifies me even more to ignore that.  And now… the one who DID open that door for me, the love of my life, she must face her own darkness.  To look through the broken pieces of her own self, and reclaim the truth that led to that breakage.  And while she does this, I still must stand and fight.  I can no more run from the truth of my own dark night than she can hers.  I have to stand and fight.  I have to remain strong.  While there is even a shred of hope left for me, while there is but a breath left in my body, I can not run.  I can not hide.  These are the times that define us, and while I am afraid to face this, I am more afraid of turning by back and giving up.  No more backwards.  No more standing still.  There is only forwards, and I am made of sterner stuff.  There is always hope, despite the harshness of the truth.  Despite how hopeless my life may seem, I will always stand and fight, to my dying breath.  There is no reward without risk, and for the stakes I’m playing for, there can be no greater rewards.  I am playing for the future, for LIFE, for TRUTH.  I will stand, and I face this, and I will fight.

I wish her the same steel and strength as she faces her own night, and pray that I can be as strong.  Change comes whether I want it to or not.  And I will be standing on the other side, even if I end up standing alone.  To do anything less would be to deny the truth of myself.  I am part of Deity, and I will continue to act as such.  So mote it be.

I’ve been hearing a lot about the topic of readiness lately in my travels through life, specifically, about the lack of readiness. I’ve been hearing it from a lot of people, about a lot of situations. It seems I can’t turn around any more without hearing somebody say, “I’m just not ready yet” or “I really wasn’t ready at the time”. I know I’ve uttered those same sentiments more times than I could possibly even begin to count. You hear people say, “I was BORN ready!”… well … not me. I was born always looking for the most opportune time to act, wanting to BE ready, but never quite managing. Despite that, that sure hasn’t stopped the wheel from turning out surprises for me, ready or not.

One of the scariest things to face, in terms of readiness, is the prospect of children. I don’t know that ANYBODY is ever truly ready to become a parent. There is really no way one can determine the readiness for this monumental step in life, as there is really nothing else that can come close to this situation in terms of prior experience. I don’t care if you were a day care provider, foster parent, or raised your brothers and sisters almost singlehandedly due to some tragedy or neglect on the part of your own parents. Nothing can ever truly prepare you for what it’s like to help create a life, and then be responsible for caring, nurturing and loving that life. There is no prior experience that is going to match that.

I knew that I always wanted to have kids. Whether it was because of the masculine urge to further my bloodline, or my nesting urge to be part of a family of my own, or what, I just knew that someday, I’d like to have kids. I wasn’t ready for my first one. In fact, at the time, I was looking for a way out of my marriage. I knew I wasn’t happy, I knew it was over, and I had decided to ask for a divorce. On the day I decided that, I went home to do the hard thing and admit it. My wife had big news too. She was pregnant. Wow. Timing. We could make it work though, and having a kid would help. *rolls eyes* I won’t get into all of that. The point is, for that point in my life, I was definitely not ready to have kids.

Fast forward two more years. Wife and I were still together, we had somehow managed to raise our son to the ripe old age of 2 and a half. Things were looking up. We were getting along a bit better, getting comfortable in our roles as parents. There was a lot wrong there, that again I’m not going to get into, as it’s not relevant to this topic. But. It was Christmas. We knew something was up. Pregnancy test. Pregnant. Merry Christmas! This time, we approached the news with a lot more joy and cheer. We hadn’t been planning a child, we really weren’t ready. But here one was coming, and we were happy to be blessed with one. Wouldn’t say we were READY though.

See, both times I’d been greeted with the news from her, both were times in our life of some of the greatest suffering. I would lose my job after the news of an impending child, about 2 months afterwards. She would then lose her job, or be unable to continue working. We would be sitting there with no income, no health insurance, barely managing to scrape bills together, personal issues between us still growing and whatnot (though that wasn’t as clear at the time), and … here we were, about to bring CHILDREN into that. We weren’t ready.

Would I go back and change all that? I really don’t think so. Despite not being ready for either of my children, since they’ve been in my life, I wouldn’t really trade them for anything. To this day, I still don’t feel like I’m ready to be a father, at least not a good one. But, it didn’t matter if I was ready, or not. It happened, and I was thrust into it. So I try to be the best damn father I CAN be, and am always trying to be better, because… ready or not, I’m living it.

The same holds true with when my wife and I finally did split. I wasn’t ready or even really looking that hard to get out, though I understand now to a degree I was. I was still involved in actively trying to hold us together. I knew I was unhappy, I knew I would have rather been alone, but … we had kids together, we were married, we took vows, and I wasn’t ready to face the cold hard reality that we were done. Had been for quite some time. I wasn’t ready to put the work into saying goodbye, and walking away. And I sure as hell wasn’t ready for somebody new to enter my life, somebody that would turn out to be my truest soulmate in every sense of the word, and the woman I had always been searching for. Not ready at all. Timing. Ugh. When I realized that’s exactly what had happened though, I panicked. HARD. I had a complete and utter breakdown on the spot, and I wasn’t quite right for a long time afterwards. Some days I still feel the ripples of that day.

I think we can spend a lot of time in our lives helping ourselves out by becoming more ready to face the challenges in front of us. I think that’s a good, and responsible attitude. If somebody doesn’t WANT children, for example, then there are options available to avoid conception in the first place. And there are options available that I may or may not agree with in all cases, to end an unexpected one. But despite that, sometimes, the Gods don’t give a SHIT whether we’re ready or not, don’t care about the precautions we take, and things happen anyways. I take some small comfort in that. I may not feel ready for whatever life throws my way, but the Gods have enough faith in me to decide I AM ready, or they wouldn’t throw things my way in the first place. Sometimes they decide that I’m ready, despite all the evidence to the contrary. It’s like a giant game of hide and seek. Ready or not, here it comes.

I don’t think that life works in such a way that we’re only able to tackle things when we’re ready. Without a prior experience, you’ll never know if you are truly ready or not. How can one EVER be ready for the unknown? Being ready is all about preparing, of making sure that all your bases are covered, dotting all your i’s and crossing all you t’s, revising, rough draft/final draft, and all that. But when dealing with an unknown, you can’t be. Readiness is reading the strategy guide cover to cover, memorizing the instructions, and maybe even picking up a couple of cheat codes, before playing the game. Life is being thrown into the game with no strategy guide, no instruction manual, one life, and no save points.

When the Gods give me something I don’t feel I am ready for, my first instinct is to fight. Fight the situation, fight the Gods, fight to stand stock-stubborn still and wait until I AM ready. The thing is though, there are times when I don’t know that I’ll EVER be ready for what is being thrown my way. And through time, I’ve learned to fight less, and go with the flow more. So what if I’m not ready? It’s HERE, it’s NOW. It’s happening, and there’s no stopping it. It’s been decided that I have something in my life to face, ready or not. The only thing I can do at that point is soldier bravely on, and do my best. Maybe that means sucking it up and being the best dad I can be, no matter how much I’d rather be trotting across the globe, waking up in strange and exotic ports every day, or partying with the guys. Maybe it means having to face some of the hardest and most painful things I’ve ever had to do, not just to others, but for myself included. Maybe it means opening myself up to somebody else, before I’ve fully let go of who was there before. To me, it means acknowledging what is in my path, and accepting it for what it is. Ready or not, it’s here, and I’m at least ready to give it all my full self.

I see life like this, and to me, it goes hand in hand with what I’ve been led to understand is one of the keys of Paganism. We talk of turning the wheel. Of being TRUE witches. Of not only taking the time to mark the sabbats, working intent when needed. But also, of doing the hard parts. The daily chores. The parts that are less than savory, less than glamorous, the cold, hard, thankless parts that hurt us and take their toll. To quote a favorite series of mine, The wheel weaves as the wheel wills. Pagan life doesn’t only happen on a full moon, or a sabbat, or when we’re looking for it, or those rare numinous times where Deity directly touches us. It happens every day, in a thousand little ways. The wheel turns, with or without us, and it’s up to us to at least be ready to DEAL with what the wheel spits out at us, even if we’re not ready for whatever that may be. To me, Paganism has spoke to me so strongly, because we stand ready to deal with whatever that is, come what may, with strength, conviction, and willing to give the best of ourselves to that. Paganism is not a path of excuses, of doubt, of hiding or running. Paganism is a path of action, empathy, and choices. Of making choices, decisions, and dealing with the consequences. Ready or not. And always giving our BEST.

Are you ready?

This has not been an easy week for me, as most weeks where I have to deal with certain situations rarely, if ever, are. This week has been filled with a veritable plethora of difficult situations. This time however, I’ve been managing to make a lot of positive headway on how I handle myself in these situations, and I think it would be fair to say, I’m seeing a lot of positive results because of this. As somebody recently said, when I wear confidence and tilt my chin and move forward, it looks real good on me. I couldn’t agree more. It FEELS real good on me.

Last night, I received two books in the mail. One, is a book I’ve been DYING to read for quite some time: “Celtic Tree Mysteries: Secrets of the Ogham” by Steve Blamires. The other was a gift from a friend of mine, and is the next book in a series I’m reading. The book is “The Singing Sword” by Jack Whyte. I’m really excited to have new books to read! I’m a voracious reader, and though I love all the books in my library, it wears a bit after the second or third thousandth time through them all.

In my last post, “The Numinous and Worship“, I mentioned a passage from the book “Contact”, by Carl Sagan, that dealt with the main character falling in love. I’d like to share that, directly below.

“Their conversations were a joy, with ideas flying back and forth like shuttlecocks. Sometimes they responded to each other’s uncompleted thoughts with almost perfect foreknowledge. He was a considerate and inventive lover. And anyways, she liked his pheromones.

She was comfortable describing to him her reveries, snatches of memories, childhood embarrassments. And he was not merely interested, but fascinated. He would question her for hours about her childhood. His questions were always direct, sometimes probing, but without exception gentle. She began to understand why lovers talk baby talk to one another. Ther was no other socially acceptable circumstance in which the children inside her were permitted to come out. If the one-year-old, the five-year-old, the twelve-year-old, and the twenty-year-old all find compatible personalities in the beloved, there is a real chance to keep all of these sub-personas happy. Love ends their long loneliness. Perhaps the depth of love can be calibrated by the number of different selves that are actively involved in a given relationship. With her previous partners, it seemed, at most one of these selves was able to find a compatible opposite number; the other persona were grumpy hangers-on.”

As I had mentioned earlier, this had struck a chord for me, having found that within these past couple years ith someone, after a lifetime of searching, and eventually giving up. Man, but the Gods can be cruel when they finally give us what we most desire. Along with the joy of the finding, came a terrible fear and despair of ever being able to grab onto that, and guilt for having to extricate myself from the committed relationship I was already in to realize it fully. I guarantee you, I spent quite a long time hoping to find it with the woman I was already with, out of the love I still shared with her, and the love she still felt for me.

Why do we fight so hard, to force ourselves to go against what is obvious? What was awakened in me, was awakened by this new person, but I hoped maybe it could be transferred to my now ex-wife. She would tell me how much she was in love ith me, would tell me how much she ould change for me, even made certain changes. It was hard facing that, because the more she changed, the more she opened up her lines of communication, the more in her I saw the person I had initially fallen in love with, and the more compatible she became to what I was looking for out of life. Throw in the fact that she was and is the mother of my two children, and the difficulties in walking away from her were increased exponentially. How could I do this to somebody who loved and needed me that much? Did I not OWE it to her, to find the same feelings for her? And let me tell you, I came close to finding it. REAL close. Maybe we COULD “make it work”. Despite all that, I couldn’t seem to do it. Through time, I came to realize, that the feelings I felt, that I were awakened to, were not because of her, and aren’t transferable. And even though I could find almost everything else for her, I couldn’t find that one part that said, “Yes.”

Why do we fight so hard to force ourselves to fill those roles that others hope for us? We show amazing compassion for others, and yet, we show very little compassion to ourselves. For me, the reason I could not tell my ex-wife “yes”, was because she was not the person that that part of my heart was saying “yes” for.. the same one that awakened those emotions in me for in the first place. It wasn’t her face I saw in those moments with her. The Gods are cruel. But, they also are kind, because I DID feel that for someone, in all those ways, even if it didn’t lessen the hurt or acceptance I still had to find. And they were kind, because they allowed my ex-wife to see that was what was real in MY heart, that while I loved her, I couldn’t love her in that way, not after being made aware of it more fully with somebody that TRULY awakened it in me. And my ex-wife, I loved her more than ever for allowing me to have that, for loving me enough to let me find that true happiness, even if it wasn’t with her. And you know, it hasn’t been easy, because when I see her with the man she is with now, she reminds me more and more of what I hoped she and I could have. But I’ve been chasing the future that is real in my heart now, the one that speaks to all those parts of me, and dealing with the pain that comes from walking away from my past as it comes. The pain lessens with time, the healing begins, when there is acceptance of the truth. Yes I love her, yes I see so much good in her, and yes, we could probably have made a better go at things, but no…. that is not where my heart was pointing me. Only after I acknowledged that direction, and she acknowledged my direction as well, was I able to truly move on. She made it easy for me, and I’m grateful. She probably could have sat there every single day from then until now, begging me to stay, and I would have not had an easy time at all walking away. To say the least.

Compassion is a good thing, but there comes a time when one has to let others deal with the reality on their own terms, without standing in the way of that. And here, the compassionate thing is to let them figure that out for themselves, without you trying to hold their hand through it, and without sharing your fears back and forth beteen each other. Feedback loops are powerfull, patterned, and cyclical. Just as there can be a loop and regress of love beteen true lovers, there can also be loops of fear that never move anybody forward. So sometimes, compassion in a situation means having the compassion to walk away, to be quiet, and to let the other person see the truth for themselves. It can mean having the compassion to put your own hopes to the side, and acknowledging that in reality, they’re not returned. Sometimes compassion is having to do the hard things, that hurt the most now, instead of the easy things, that hurt more and more in the long run.

Deep stuff, and stuff I’ve been working on in myself. Having the compassion to let others see the truth for themselves, and having trust that the Gods will bring me beauty, whatever the outcome. It’s hard, but I’m following an ecstatic path… with the ecstasy, comes the hard work. And though it’s hard, I can honestly say that I am truly living my life now, and not waiting on the world to make things happen for me. I’m taking control of my life, and it feels amazing.

ON TO THE RANDOMNESS!

My “W” key is on the fritz, and I never really realized how often that letter is used!

I hate Wordpress’s textbox for typing posts, as it is constantly scrolling back to the top of the post, and typing in it it seems to be about one character a second hitting the screen.

I’m considering removing email notifications of new posts, as I often think it keeps people from wanting to come and comment.

I’m trying to integrate Google Friend Connect, to make it EASIER for people to come and comment.

I like comments.

I’m thinking of creating a new blog to dedicate my posts about my relationship to Herne with.

I really like watching The Office, Bones, and Heroes.

Happy Thursday all.

Good afternoon, and welcome to … Tuesday. For me, today, it’s not a particularly good Tuesday. It is, however, *A* Tuesday, and I suppose in some very small ways, I’m glad to be here for it. The temperature outside has raised significantly from the weekend’s deep freeze, and the snow was falling quite prettily in the pre-dawn light, as the world around me stretched and yawned, awakening from fitful slumber to greet the day. After dropping my kids off at daycare and the bus stop for school – and for their parenting time with their mother – I returned home and briefly enjoyed the smell of sausages cooking on the stove to break my fast with. Another fine double homemade breakfast burrito meal, if I do say so myself. Give me chorizo, and I’ll have it perfected. =) After having fed my belly, and making an attempt at waking my mind with strong, french-press brewed coffee, I sank into my chair and allowed myself to sink fully into the deep and miserable funk I have been in for the past couple of days. Ahhh, depression, a scratchy wool blanket to insulate myself in on these cold winter days, both comfortable and irritating. Life, despite my best efforts, still continues to be at the lowest I have seen it in terms of “things going my way.” You think I’d be used to that by now, but every successive soul crushing disappointment still manages to take me surprise. lol Somehow I keep managing to get back up. It’s surprising at times, but I do.

Among certain things I have been feeling pretty low about, is the lack of spirit and the divine making itself known to me in my life lately. After an almost overload of amazement when I started this path, I am in a definite lull, and missing it pretty hard. There are other reasons, but I won’t get into that here. After pouring out to a friend this morning, and subsiding into trembling sobs on the sofa, I determined to distract myself with a book I’ve recently started reading: “Contact” by Carl Sagan.

One of the things I’ve noticed as more time has gone on, following a path of greater spiritual awareness, is how the Divine seeks to gain my attention. And one of the most thought provoking of these ways is through synchronicity. Some little quirks here or there crop up almost daily, but from time to time I get bashed over the head with it seemingly everywhere I turn. While reading this book, I was bludgeoned most unmercilessly yet again, as I have been for almost a solid week now. I’d been waiting for some of the other sources who were providing me with this synchronatic subject matter to speak up, as they had all mentioned an interest in wanting to write about it, but so far none have… and upon getting hit with it again this morning, I realized, “Oh. Maybe *I* should write about it.” Subtlety, though used, and to a degree, understood by me, is not my strong point, and sometimes one just needs that directly literal instruction or information, to keep getting smacked upside the head with the obvious. So here I am, albeit in a very roundabout manner, to talk about ecstatic experiences and worship.

Lyon, at The Wandering Hearth, recently wrote an article about scripts and spontaniety in worship. In this article (which was excellent by the way, and I’d encourage you to read it), she mentioned wanting to write further about escstatic experiences in worship, which really got my gears going. I decided to just sit on my musings, as I hadn’t formed anything really concrete, though I had the ticklings of some ideas. A few days later, while chatting with another blogger, Treesong, of Treesong.org, the subject of ecstatic experience came up again, out of the blue. We shared some ideas on this topic, which left me considering it even more, really taking the time to think about it. He also expressed an interest of writing about the topic, and again, I decided to wait what somebody else had to say, though I was more excited now because I could feel some things beginning to click into place for myself. So that lead me up to today, the couch, and Contact. There’s a part in the book, where the main character finds herself falling in love, truly, for the very first time, which really struck a chord with me, it was if somebody was writing about how I felt, and it had my attention, I must admit. I’m a romantic, what can I say. And then BAM, like a thunderbolt from the pages, leaps a discussion on a discussion on the “numinous” and everything really clicked into place for me.

Now, the term “numinous” was first used by Rudolph Otto in a book called, “The Idea of the Holy,” back in 1923, and is used to describe the power or presense of Divinity. He thought of the numinous as thing the human response to is “absolute astonishment,” and the numinous experience is made up of two parts: mysterium tremendum, which is the tendency to invoke fear and trembling; and mysterium fascinans, the tendency to attract, fascinate and compel. The numinous experience also has a personal quality to it, in that the person feels to be in communion with a wholly other. The numinous experience can lead in different cases to belief in deities, the supernatural, the sacred, the holy, and the transcendent, basically, the parts of Divinity perceived to be of the most value. This ties in exactly with where I had been going in my thoughts of ecstatic experiences.

When I first … REALLY … began to seriously consider this path, I was met with many ecstatic experiences, a full helping of mysterium fascinans if you will. And I also learned, upon meeting Herne, that there was the other side as well. The mysterium tremendum is the part that always makes it hard to stay and face him. With the presage of his arrival, there often comes a galloping sense of panic and terror, though not aimed at myself personally. In the presense of the Divine, the soul trembles and quakes, and one can feel utterly insignificant. It is a feeling both of awe, fear, and respect, and it is difficult to face. But if one pulls down deep, and masters that feeling, one is able to experiences the mysterium fascinans that goes with it. And those are the experiences, that I cherish the most from this whole path, the ones that make it all worth while, when I am locked into that feeling. It’s a good one to chase, but it’s rare. Some days, the world is just business as usual, full of highs and lows, good and bad, even manic and depressive. But those rare moments… man do they really make the rest seem so much more … bearable. Even that brief glimpse, snatch of conversation, or emotion brought on from the numinous is enough to change you. I remember being told that when starting out. You can choose to touch that, to become that aware, but if you do, it’ll change you forever. And that was true. I’ve changed, forever, and I want to devote my life to emulating that feeling as closely as possible. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world, and I can think no better way to worship that, than by seeking it out, and/or being enough to accept it when I’m priveleged enough to be gifted with it.

Treesong and I, had been discussing the feelings of being “swept up” in things in our lives, things we had found to be undeniable, the mysterium fascians (though I didn’t have a word for it at the time,) and he made the observation to me, that in those moments, he knew himself to be on the right track, as it was the Divine presense telling him “YES”, a feeling of blessing and amazement, that the joy was a gift of following where he needed to be. He also acknowledged that with that feeling, came a balance, in that it was almost always accompanied by a harder road ahead, intense amounts of fear and terror that went along with accepting that fully, that could be quite hard to master. Before the conversation drifted on, we both agreed however, that they were well worth sticking around for.

Herne has never been easy to accept, I’ve fought him a lot of the way, I’ve struggled and drawn back, panicked and ran, hid and pushed him away when he got close. At the same time though, I was always hoping to draw him more closely to me, the benefit of it… my how amazing. How do you explain the love for Deity? I fought against what was right in front of my face for a long time… I did. And the more I fought, the harder it was to deny, that I knew this was where I was devoted. This was where I most wanted to be. And yes, that hasn’t been easy. I don’t blame the mundane details of my life on it, though it may have contributed. It hasn’t necessarily made the rest of my life any clearer, or made my road any easier. But it has given me something amazing to embrace, and to see me through the rough times with, and to truly, honestly fully give my thanks and heart to, because it fills me up that much. It is that strong.

My worship, while not filled with the mysterium fascinans on a second by second basis, is still filled with the knowledge that it’s there, and I can touch it anytime I want, or need, because I have learned to see it behind the mysterium tremendum that comes with it, to accept that one is part of the other. It it is not always easy to open up to it in the face of that fear, but I gladly try and strive and bring myself closer to a place where I can do that, because that is what my worship is about. Giving thanks for that, and embracing it with all my heart. This is worship. This is life. This is why I believe, this is what I believe, and this is what I want. These are the sorts of moments that make life worth living for, and these are the moments I wish for the most. I give thanks, that I am here, that I am aware, and that I have been blessed enough to be given moments like this.

So mote it be.

When last I posted, almost two week ago, I was heading up north to Traverse City to visit my cousin. I promised updates, and even though they’re not timely, updates you shall have! The drive up was insane, I’d only made it twice before, so was pretty unfamiliar with it, especially in the dark…. and adding in several back road detours with a poor showing of signs informing of what way to go, really didn’t help. Neither did the freak blizzard. Visibility was BAD, at a time of year when the deer tend to move around. I made it there safe however. It was very nice and welcome, to just have several days where I didn’t really worry about anything. We had amazing coffee (one of his roommates works at a coffee bean roasting shop), great food, and ended up playing a lot of games and just hanging out. I know, not an exciting update, but that really was about the extent of it. One day I took a walk down to the beach on Grand Traverse Bay, and sat there watching the waves and writing poetry. That was nice. Very zen.

Anyways, it’s much later now, and I’ve been home for quite some time. Been rather difficult here lately, dealing with bills and a pretty noticeable lack of money with which to pay them. Been COLD too. I think yesterday, with windchill, we got down to -4F. Not fun. Been trying to stay warm and start organizing the house and getting rid of all the clutter that never gets used, looked at, or remembered. Took some time to reconnect with my neighbor next door, we teamed up on shoveling the first major snowfall, and then chilled out with some coffee over at his place. He’s a great neighbor, a real friendly guy, and I really enjoy his company.

Other than that… hmmm. The job hunt continues, and while waiting I’ve been playing more games. The boredom is definitely looming and threatening. I don’t think it’s the unemployment that sucks as much as not having money to do all the things I wish I could be doing. Even gas costs money to drive places, and I’m conserving HARD. Making more bread from scratch, cooking more large meals. My dad has harvested numerous deer this season, and is helping to keep my freezer full of meat, and I still have several filets of salmon from my fishing trip this summer. Thankfully, this leaves me with vegetables to buy, which are cheap.

Ok, rambly ramble rambling. Blah blah blah. I’ve been pretty dry in the old brain-well, not really sure what to write about lately. Going to wrap this up, and wish you all a happy weekend!

It has been a pretty hectic day for me here, and I’m not going to get into all of it. Children, love, a blinding headache, heartburn, etc. Today though, is moving day. Not for me. My ex-wife is moving today, into a house with her new flame. You know, the guy that can make her happy where I couldn’t. I’m having a really hard time with this, I’m finding. Yes, even after all the water under the bridge, yes, even after all the acceptance, yes, even though I still agree that our divorcing was necessary. It’s still hard.

Sometimes I feel like, just because I’ve found so much acceptance, that others feel like maybe I don’t get this way still, like maybe I’m just some cold, heartless automaton. Well… I’m not. I still feel the pain. There are days that are still hard. Sometimes that sadness creeps up and sinks it’s fangs into my heart, and I’m left with little choice but to grieve. To feel the sadness again, to relive it all one more time. It’s probably not the last time either. But life moves on, and so… I do my best to move with it.

So yes. It still hurts. But that’s ok. It’s supposed to. I loved her for several years of my life, and I still love her in my own way. It’s another nail in the coffin of us. Another milestone on the road leading away from our marriage, another signpost that reads: “FAIL”. It’s an uncomfortable reminder of what we used to have, and a reminder of why it couldn’t work. It’s a reminder that I do still love her, even if I fell out of love with her long ago, and that’s hard. No it doesn’t mean I wish we were back together, but it IS a headfuck. Today it’s exceptionally hard, because I’m still grasping for the future I saw when I walked away, and I feel further away from it than ever. It doesn’t change why I left, but it sure leaves me wanting someone to hold on to, to hold me back, to love me, to tell me everything is going to be ok. I need some smiles back in my life, some focus on the positive. Today is not one of those days that I’m going to get that. Maybe not even tomorrow. Maybe not in this lifetime. I really don’t know. All I know today, is that I’m in pain, and I’m all alone.

They came by, the parked their vehicle, and I realized they had gone to the back. I had brought the rest of the stuff she still had stored here down to the front. So I went out on to the front porch, and peered around the side of the house to let them know. They were pressed so close together, looking so warm and in love. It shouldn’t, but it hurts. I’m so happy they get to move on and live a new life. I am. They’re very lucky. I know it’s still hard for her sometimes, we do talk, and it comes out from time to time. But they’re getting to move on, to grab onto the future, to start something new, with each other. I’m not jealous of their love, I’m jealous that they’re doing what I wish I was.

The house does however, feel better now. A few more ghosts have been exorcised, and I have more closet space now. Gotta look at the positive right? She’s better off now too, she’s got a bit more financial help, and I don’t feel so responsible for her financial wellbeing. She’s getting her shot to find happiness with someone, and that’s one of the things I really wanted for her … to find someone that could make her happy, that excited her own spark and fire, that deep undying one that I never could. The one that you can’t help but feel everytime, that shines out without effort just by being close. I’m glad she’s found it. I’m still hurting, I’m still sad, but…. at the same time…. it’s time to look to the future, and it’s one I hoped she’d find, and… good. It’s the future she always wanted, and she’s found someone who can bring that to her. This is where I’m glad to be man enough to stand aside and quiet myself, and not impede that. This is where I’m glad that I did what I did, even if it does hurt. This is where I’m glad, that I’m free to find my own future now as well. The fear don’t stop that, the pain doesn’t stop that, the sadness doesn’t stop that … though it does fuck with me. This is where I breathe…. relax, and let go.

There will always be time to acknowledge the pain and the sadness, to take the time to listen to my grief, and there will always be time to embrace the positive and happy in my life as well. If I ever get to where I want to be, that’s something I’m sure my mate will understand. That even though I’m devoted to her, that there is still pain and grief and sadness left in this. Most days are good, some days are bad. Less and less bad the more water under the bridge, but still there and surprising sometimes in their intensity. But it’s those days where there’s so much love and affection and happiness with who I’ve found, my flame, that make it all worthwhile. I still got a lot of work to do on me. And that’s ok. I still have a lot of pain left to feel. And that’s ok. And there’s a whole lot of life left to live and sink my teeth into, a whole lot of joy left to be found. And that’s ok. The sadness helps me realize how happy the happy times are, and the happiness helpes me realize the depths of my sadness. It all just IS. This is my life. Unemployed, single, penniless, with more responsibility than I can handle and maintain my sanity, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. This is ME. And I love being me.

I’ve been thinking about synchronicity, convergence, coincidence, whatever you want to call it.   Not, actively thinking about it, but definitely as time goes on, noticing it more and more.  I’ve also been wondering why now my life seems to be piling on misfortune, heartache and pain.  I don’t know if they’re interrelated, but they do share the distinction of being a moment in time that really makes one sit up and take notice. 

I was thinking too about how I find myself sliding more and more into a practice of Paganism, despite the fears and hauntings leftover from dogmatic Christian practices that really leave me… uncomfortable with some of it.  How I didn’t actively choose this, how it reached out and chose me.

I’ve wondered through a lot of this, “Why me?”  Why have I been chosen to have been shown some of the most amazing things ever?  Why have I been deemed worthy of a major kick in my life’s ass?  What did I do to deserve any of this?  Where did I go wrong?  What did I do right?

What, when you get right down to it, does it all mean?

Why now?

And the pattern that is building here… of being handed trauma after trauma, inconvenience and burden and hurt, but … then while absorbed in the pain and experience of that, being shown the most beautiful things in this world as well.  Nature, oh you are SO beautiful.  Hurt.  Joy.  Pain.  Thanksgiving.  Sorrow.  Tenderness. 

I’m feeling pretty battered these days, pretty blank and numb.  Pretty down.  I’ve spent a lot of time in tears.  The smallest happy moments I watch others sharing, have the power to reduce me to a sobbing form on the floor.  Why at this time, in this place, am I being handed more than I can deal with, and still being shown so much that is beautiful, that I don’t feel I can fully appreciate?

I don’t know.  Maybe I’m being shown that even in the worst adversity, that there is still beauty all around us.  Maybe these are the tools for dealing with life when it gets shitty.  It’s good things to know, though it takes a lot of work on my part some days to understand that.  Sometimes you really gotta force that smile on your face.  Sometimes you gotta tell yourself those little white lies, “It’ll get better” or ”I feel good”, before you can really embrace them and see the truth behind them. 

We have no control over a lot that happens in our lives.  Oh, I know we DO, but … so does everyone else.  And all these lives touching effect each other, a million interconnected butterfly wings flapping and changing the world around them.  We can rarely pick the moments for good or bad to happen in.  The moments choose us. 

When I find my life filled with all the negative that I wasn’t expecting, the moment chose me.  There is no re-do button.  There’s just… now.  It’s NEVER a good time for something bad to happen.  But… it happens.  The moment is NOW.  And I have to remember that and choose how I will react.  And then live it.

When I find my life filled with all the splendour and joy and love I wasn’t expecting, the moment chose me.  There is no re-do button.  There’s just… now.  It’s sometimes a bad time for something good to happen.  But… it happens.  The moment is still approaching.  And I have to remember that, and be ready to embrace it.  And live it.

I’m having a really rough weekend.  Too many surprises being thrown at me.  Too much sudden doubt.  So I thought I’d take the time to reassess what *I* want out of life.  Been giving this a lot of thought today.  Here goes.

I want to be a good father to my kids.  I want to be a provider.  I want to have enough financial security that I can pay my bills without living in fear of the next shutoff.  I realize right now I’m “lucky” to even have a job, let alone one that pays so well, but with child support and all, it still never seems like I have enough.  I manage, but I still stress a lot.  I want to move out of the city.  I want to move out onto twenty or more acres of land, preferably with a large pond or a stream running through it.  I want a cozy little geodesic dome.  I want a warm house, a cozy house, something with hardwood floors, soft plushy or fuzzy rugs, overstuffed furniture, and lots of pillows and blankets.  I want a kitchen that serves as the heart of the home, I want to be able to cook and bake.  I want to have fun grocery shopping, laughing the whole time.  I want lots of houseplants, and interesting art.  I want a space for books, for reading on a cold winter night, a fireplace, a small cat.  I want a collection of blank leatherbound books, and interesting pens.  I want somebody to share all this with.  I want to love freely, from the heart and not the head.  I want to have somebody that I can’t get close enough too, who I want to share my feelings with without having to be prompted by them first.  I want to make love every night, every morning, and every afternoon.  I want the freedom to explore my sexuality with somebody that feels the same way.  I want to spend my evenings crafting, reading a book, taking a walk, or chatting with that certain someone… I don’t care if it’s about nothing at all, idle chatter or deeply intelligent debates.  I want to travel and see Ireland, Australia, England, EVERYWHERE.  I want to have a place to come back to when my wanderlust wanes.  I want to be challenged to grow more every day.  I don’t want to settle for mediocrity.  I want to live my life freely, and not out of obligation.  I want a space to be quiet in, to share a communion with the gods.  I want to grow spiritually on my own and with my family.  I want a partner that can look at the positive, and not only at the negative, like I used to have.  I want to always make my partner feel beautiful and loved.  I want to give myself fully to her.  I want to have that returned, freely, because she loves me that much, and not because she thinks that’s what I want.  I want to kiss her with all my love and passion no matter who’s watching, no matter where we are.  I want to be greeted after work with love and excitement that I’m home.  I want somebody with passion, with interests, who wants to share mine out of a desire to be close, and not just because “that’s what you do”.  I don’t want to have to drag somebody along with me, having to convince them to come.  I want to be taken care of when I’m sick, built up when I’m sad.  I want to be a rock for somebody, and have them be one for me in return.  I want a real partner, a twin flame, a soulmate, in EVERY sense of the word.  I want to be equals with somebody, and not just trying to make them happy.  I don’t want to be with somebody because that’s what I should do, but because I WANT to be with them, because of how I feel for them and because of how they make me feel.  I want to hold somebody close every night as we drift off to sleep, and I want to wake up every morning gazing into a pair of gorgeous, lovely green eyes.  I want the uncertainty of the future, the happy of the present.  I want the strength to use my memories as a pleasant way to grow, instead of dragging me into depression.  I want to be happy.  I want to love,  I want to live, I want to laugh.  I want my family to be complete.  I want good coffee, good food, and great sex.  I want it all.  I want to grab life by the hand and run with it.  I want to run naked through the fields with my soulmate.  I want the true love I have seen, and that I believe in.  I want … I want the completeness I’ve seen, but haven’t gotten to embrace yet.  I want that.  I want my hopes and dreams and beliefs, I want what I have spent over the past year and a half building and working towards. 

*shrugs*

As autumn descends on Michigan, already splashing the forest canopies with brilliant golds and crimson, I find myself growing increasingly restless. I want to throw off the shackles of job and convention, I want to spend my days walking in the woods, fishing from a stream, watching the clouds roll by and feeling the wind on my face.  I want to run naked through the woods, lounge in a grassy meadow and feel the last bit of warmth the sun still shares. It’s always an attractive idea, getting back to ones’ primal roots, revelling in the freedom and unrestrictedness of our natural wardrobe, indulging in the untamed and wild feeling, and really getting back to nature in the deepest and purest sense.

Most people don’t indulge these flights of carefree longing. Busy schedules and conflicting priorities are so much more pressing than taking the time to revel in the outdoors, let alone indulging in a little “woodland nudity”.  Personal modesty and social expectations of appropriate behavior often times can be strong deterants. I know I would have a fear of getting caught, initially out of modesty, but even more so for something as innocent as this could land one with a label of “sex offender.” But even if one is willing to put aside the responsibilities of maintaining the status quo, to brave these risks, to indulge, to really get in touch with nature, there is still one major obstacle left to face. In fact, it’s the nature of nature itself. It’s wild, and doesn’t hold the same idealistic view of itself that we can sometimes attribute to it.

Let’s take the example of nudity in the wild. It’s pretty nice in theory right? Imagine walking through a forest, along a tree lined path… the sunlight dappling the path’s clover covering, which gently soothes and cools your feet as you walk barefoot along it. The only eyes upon you are the variant woodland creatures, and songbird song fills the air. A faint breeze, gusting here and there, alternately warm and cold, caresses your skin as close as a lover, and tousles your hair as though you were a fond child. Sounds beautiful right?

In reality, this RARELY happens. You may find an appropriate sylvan setting to indulge this fancy, but finding privacy is often difficult. On the off chance you do have privacy, or are in an area with people that won’t pass judgement on you, the moment you disrobe, mosquitos will track you down with a vengence. There is nothing more detrimental to woodland nudity then being swarmed by stinging or biting insects. Looking for that feeling of oneness and interconnectedness with the natural and divine? How easy is that to find when you’re either swatting at insects, or getting bitten up in intimate locations, growing itchier and itchier by the minute?

How about inclimate weather?  We want to get in touch with nature right, but we don’t dare go for a walk in the rain.  We would get wet, or “catch our death of pneumonia” to quote the generation before mine.  Again, it seems hard to connect to the natural world if we have to be uncomfortable to do so.  What then are we after?  Are we after the appreciation only of the parts of nature that are ideal?  We can appreciate nature when it’s sunny and warm, but what about when nature reveals its other face, the face that’s not so kind?  Oh sure, we might “appreciate” it, but do we ever really EXPERIENCE it?

Nature can be cruel, violent, unpredictable … let’s face it, nature can be a real bitch sometimes.  Is there not beauty in this as well?  The purples and blues of lightning, forking their incandescent energy across the sky in a violent thunderstorm is very beautiful, viewed from a distance.  This is something that would be much harder to appreciate up close, the energy being unleashed is far too great to experience with anything even coming close to approaching comfort. 

The half eaten carcass of a young deer found infested with flies along the woodland path, nourishment for the coyotes.  The circle of life displayed in all its hideous and realistic gory… er… glory.  Nature demands that things must die so others may live.  Is there not a beauty in this, sinister though it seems?

How often do we take the time to see the positive in nature, in all its guises?  How often are we willing to go out and really experience that?  I see a similarity in the way we live our lives.  We are so ready to see the negative sides of events in our lives, to moan and put on hold when things aren’t ideal.  We cling to the expectations of what we want life to be, without taking the time to appreciate the beauty of what lies before us.  Even in the most seemingly destructive and final actions, there is beauty to be found, positive to withhold and appreciate for what it is.  Lightning is good for the soil, which is good for the crops.  Lightning sometimes causes forest fires, which provides germenation for certain trees, clears diseased wood, and gives new life the opportunity to grow.  The grisly reality of the circle of life provides population control and sustenance to the creatures of the forest, and gives back to the earth.  So as it is in nature, so it is in life.  There is good in everything, if we only care to see. 

I’ll even stretch my own mental muscles here.  Even the mosquitos are good.  Another link on the food chain being served, which in turn feeds the frogs, birds, etc, and so on down the list.  And perhaps in a way this is a sacrifice back to nature, a way of saying thank you, for letting us experience the good times, and reminding us to look for the positive in the bad times as well.