WTF?

Alright, I have spent as long as I am going to tonight, but will resume search soon enough. If any of you are out there with nothing better to do searching the internet, does anyone know where I can get my hands on the Crazy Frog ringtone without having to join Jamster to get my hands on it? I just want to order one damn ringtone, not join some seven dollar a month club I have no use for!

These people are infuriating, but I guess that is part of life, or something close to it.

A Mother's Priorities

I walk slowly around the bases, kicking at the dirt and marveling, not so much at the dirt rising up into the air, but the fact that I haven't watched it do so in so long. I stand on first base and look at the empty plate, and the rusting backstop. I regret the fact that I don't have my glove. That I don't even know where it was anymore. Regretting it even as my mind registered that there were no players, no ball, no need for the glove. Then I wonder why I even came out here.

"It seems like a fitting place." She answers from the pitcher's mound.

I watch Her walk towards me, marveling at Her beauty and grace. I suspect that She would look stunning even dressed for the game that wasn't being played here. Not a huge leap, since Her clothes don't match the present time period, and still She is gorgeous.

"But why?" I ask. "Do my memories of this place mean that much?"

"Of course they do." She says with a laugh. "This is your place. More than the city you like to identify yourself with. More than most of your past. This is the place you always seem to return to."

"Always return to?" I ask, surprised. "I haven't been here in years."

"Haven't you?" She arches her eyebrow in that expression that always infuriates me, and excites me in that manner that any common expression of one you love will. "Shall we walk down memory lane?" She points to the raised field behind us. "Up there you tore your knee up in two consecutive years of playing soccer. 15 and 16 years ago, roughly."

She turns and walks slowly along the bases. "This field is the one that you played softball on during that time and beyond." She turns and points up the street. "You know who lives over there. You know what role he played for two years 5-6 years ago." She turns back to me. "And now you are back."

"This time doesn't count. I am not even really here." I point out.

"You will be back." She answers. "And even if you wouldn't, this would be an important place." She turns to look squarely at me again. "Now tell me why you are in this place now."

"It is because of him, isn't it?" I ask. I don't say who he is. She knows who I mean.

"It is." She confirms.

"Do you not want me to go ahead with the baptism?"

She laughs and turns to walk towards the soccer fields. She turns Her head slightly to call over Her shoulder. "You know I have no reason to have a problem with it. Do you?"

I trot to catch up with Her. "No, I don't have a problem with it."

"Then why are we here?" She pushes.

"Because he isn't going to do it." I admit my concerns.

"Then what will you do?"

"I am not sure." I admit.

"You are not sure, because you don't know who else you would be willing to have do it." She shows the decency of pointing out what I already know. I just nod. "What about Chris?"

"You know the answer to that." I point out, my temper demonstrating its greater power over me in this realm in which I address Her.

She laughs, and rather than angering me, it defuses my temper. "If I only asked questions that I didn't know the answers to, we would never get anywhere, and you would learn nothing." Her expression got more stern. "Now answer my question."

"I have no problem with Chris doing it."

"You lie." She states simply. "But that is okay. Because you lie to yourself, so I don't hold you responsible for being deceived."

"Great." I reply, annoyed. "So please, enlighten me."

She walks halfway up the hill and sits in the grass. Looking at me, She smiles. "You have a problem with Chris doing it, because that removes the ceremony. It is no longer a big deal. Since the baptism itself means nothing to you, the only refuge of importance that you have is the ritual."

"That's not completely it." I argue.

"No. Your choice in God-Parents was well thought out, and you fear the greater negative impact if they don't have the solemn ritual to observe as part of this, given the fact that they may already doubt your sincerity." She is giving me that "pin you to the wall" gaze again.

"I know my intentions, I am not sure that they do."

"Something that you should probably discuss at some point." She points out.

"I kind of hoped to do that over a couple of beers during the party after." I admit.

"I know."

I think this over, and my defiance rises once more. "So will he refuse?"

"You will know soon enough." She smiles.

"You can't tell me?" I demand.

"No, because that would counteract the opportunity."

"What opportunity?" I am approaching true anger now, as She once more seems to triviallize something so important to me.

"I don't trivialize it." She replies, a little short. "If I was willing to do so, I would answer your question and save you the time."

"And the expenditure of this time offers me what?" I demand.

"The opportunity to play the game as it should be played." I start to answer and She stands. She simply stands, yet I take it like an imperative and say nothing. "You have the opportunity to fight for what you want. You can succeed. I won't tell you the odds of this success, but I will say that if you don't fight, he will refuse you. Contrary to your opinion on history, he was never your friend, so you don't have that to rely on. Fight if that is what you want. Short of that, talk to your father before you decide for him."

She walks up the hill again. Unwilling to let it go, I follow her. "You know that is a taboo subject that neither of us can breach the wall of."

I expect anger. I don't expact the truly amused smile. "The war is fiction, darling." She replies. "And even if it wasn't you saw it work out. Not because that is what you wanted, but because that is what was. You can talk to him. I won't push though. Talk to him when you are ready."

She stops in the middle of the field. "You know how to instigate the conversation with your uncle. In fact you know many ways. You should really do so even as this advances. Blind-siding him is not the answer."

"It has never been my intention to blind side him." I defend myself.

"I know that." She answers. "You have your answers now. There is only one thing left for me to impart."

"What is that?"

"You didn't come here to talk about this. You came here to talk about your articles." She says. "Now you have two ways of looking at this. One, I just derailed your intentions. Two, perhaps I don't just answer your call and tell you what you want to hear, but have some control after all."

The thoughts flood back into my mind again. "But wait..."

She smiles. "Not this time. Come back soon and we will discuss it."

"Why not now?" I demand. "This is important."

"True." She acknowledges. "But what we just discussed gives you answers you need. This other subject you know the answers to."

"So you will just leave me floating because you are sure I know the answer?" I demand, hurt by this impending abandonment.

"Of course not." She says with a laugh. "You know all you need to do is ask, and I will go nowhere until you have the answers you need. Ask and I don't walk away now." She holds a finger up and taps it against Her temple. "But think first. Think about this: Did I tell you that we didn't discuss it because I assume you have the answers? Or did I tell you because I answered you already, and in your heart you know this?"

"Either way it sounds like you tell me to think about it and figure it out."

"You know the question. Switch roles, and what would your answer be to me?"

With that I realize that She is right, that I have Her answer already. I realize this, and the fact that She is gone. Finally, I realize why She didn't answer it in this discussion. I realize that this discussion would be written down, and Her answer was as to what was secret and what wasn't.

I realize that She was right.

On the wind is a voice. "Of course I am right, and I am never gone."

Much Like Her

She is always behind the scenes. Whether you acknowledge Her or not, She is there. It is just a matter of looking for Her and not fearing what you find. The choice is yours, and that's life, or something close to it.

Thoughts (If you could call them that)

I am thoroughly exhausted, and fairly intoxicated, yet unable to get my brain to let go of whatever it is wrapped around and not sharing with me. Many interesting conversations, all of them on pause, so there is nothing for me to focus on to distract myself from myself to convince the same said party to become unconscious. And through all of this, I am reminded that I have no idea if the musical stranger with whom I briefly conversed still reads this, and I am incapable of logging onto her server to even tell her that the song they play on the radio all of the time reminds me of her. Foolishly so, since I don't truly even know her, but there you have it.

I know, Lisa, I promised I was going to bed, and so I am. Another cigarette and then I close my eyes again and see nothing. Why does that nothing keep me awake? I guess it is a mystery of life, or something close to it.

A White Wolf's Identity

So here I was, with the dubious honor of being quasi-spiritual advisor to another. She was looking to me for answers because I was at a greater level of enlightenment than her, or so it seemed. Ultimately, it seemed to me that it was a burden based on the mind boggling fact that she was more lost than I was.

I had far from indicated that I had gotten it all together at this point. Even as I walked along the path I had chosen, I took plenty of opportunities to pontificate on issues that I hadn't really gotten a grasp of yet. Prior to the coven disintegrating, I was fairly well aware of my limited knowledge in some areas. It wasn't until I witnessed this destructive impact by others that I realized the potential hazards of being recognized as a highly knowledgeable individual and refusing to acknowledge your own shortcomings.

This could prove problematic if someone was relying on me for the answers, and I couldn't make her realize the limitations of my ability to help her. A much bigger problem than such circumstances had caused me to that point. Up until that point, the worst impact had been some conversations, primarily with MC, that I have since then wished at points that I could take back.

One having started as a conversation about the sanctity of all life, that led him to ask if there was hypocrisy in the fact that I lived in a wooden house. That my very shelter demanded that damage be done to sacred life. The short version would simply indicate that this ended badly, as I made some rather asinine statements in a combination of defensiveness and stretching for what the answer should be. This conversation is the one of many that I particularly remember as it serves as an example of several things.

First, an example of something that I not only failed to grasp, but demonstrated to another that I failed to grasp the very fact that I failed to grasp it. Second, it serves as an example of me being too busy at the time trying to defend what I believed to take the time to figure out what it was that I actually believed. Finally, it served as an example of one of the most important lessons I would learn. That my spiritual journey would not be defined by encouraging those around me to validate my beliefs. It would have to be defined personally. (This most important lesson might have come into fruition with time anyway, but was most significantly taught to me by MC through our many conversations on these subjects.)

So here I was, studying the tattoo on my arm and trying to figure out what significance it held for the present stage of my journey. It didn't state any universal truth. It didn't even point very far towards any belief system. The pentagram and moons would leave little question as to the direction of my religious leanings, but they didn't hold any deep dark secrets that I needed to grasp.

Time to dissect it. (Because that is what I do when a puzzle presents itself.) Central to the theme was the pentagram. A religious symbol most commonly used by pagan paths. It serves as an indicator of the four elements and a higher power, or spirit. I could go on for volumes about this symbol, but will save the space here. Eventually I will devote posts to various symbols, but not here. Suffice it to say, the symbol wasn't telling me much. Not in the greater scheme of the question at hand.

The moons. In various phases the moons surround the rest of the tattoo. They were actually added about a year after the original. The moon and its phases are significant to the Wiccan path, and many others. Again, I had studied the effects of the moon, and many of the theologies, but it wasn't telling me what I was looking to find out.

Blessed be. A common phrase amongst pagans. A well wishing statement. Perhaps a reminder to live my life in a blessed or holy way. Didn't seem to be what I was looking for.

The only thing left were the words, in three different alphabets that surrounded the tattoo. They would have to be the least important. All they said was who I was. All they indicated was who I was. A dedication that was made of myself to the Goddess back when I was simply wanting to know her, and what she would have of me. A blind desire and faith, untainted as of yet but the confines of the established religious viewpoint of another. Unmodified to fit into a coven I was attached to. Unsegmented by my desire to show myself more knowledgeable than I was. The simple faith of a man that said, "I feel you now, and I would like to know you."

And there was the breeze, saying, "Beautiful. Now remember that, and you can guide her and others as far as you are able."

Too Much Information and Too Little

I have not commented much on my wife's MS, nor do I plan too. If you have any interest on that subject, her blog is pretty much a journal of her life at this point, and as such does include some details about the subject. Since she is the one going through it, you can get your information there if you care to.

Still, I have to say that it hadn't really sunk in until today, when I started reading all of the information about all of these different treatments (and believe me, the doctor gave us a lot of information on the subject) that this is something that is really serious. Manageable, to a point that life can easily go on basically as normal, but providing serious questions and considerations. I keep alternating between thinking that this is an enormous amount of information, and not enough.

I guess there isn't much point to this whatsoever, except to indicate that it is sinking in. (No, MC, I am not complaining, just sharing.) I will return now to contemplating decisions about life, or something close to it.

A Wiccan White Wolf (Say that three times fast)

So I had come to a conclusion. Or, perhaps more accurately, I had come to a definitive area for exploration. In the coming weeks, much like this friend of Martha's, I began acquiring information on Wicca, the primary Goddess worship I was familiar with. Unlike her, I had a tendency to read the materials I acquired.

Initially I just shoveled in all of the information I could about the beliefs, practices, rituals, practitioners etc... of this religion. Organizing it as best as I could while I was at it. Unfortunately I soon found, particularly on the internet, that the material available was often contradictory or just plain foolish. I needed a way to validate my sources. To determine which was right and which wasn't. If I was going to find spiritual answers, I was going to have to have a way in which I would know what I had found once I had. There seemed no obvious way to do this, though. Much as the books and materials available to me through the churches, these books and materials weren't helping much either. The reason for this was relatively obvious. This wasn't an academic question. It was a question of faith. I needed spiritual guidance.

Around this point of aimless wandering in my journey, I came to hear of a Pagan shop in my neighborhood. I decided to make my way down to see what kind of shop this was. Whether they were simply selling love potions and tarot readings or whether there was something deeper beneath it all.

When I wandered into the shop for the first time, a customer was just leaving, so it was just me and the woman behind the counter. We will call her "Erin". As it turns out, she owned the shop, and was the primary worker there. After perusing the various items in the store, including the extensive collection of herbs and powders, I told her that I was pleasantly surprised to find that she had a decent collection of useful items, having expected a much less serious shop. She responded by asking me how long I had been reading the tarot.

I was somewhat amused by this, wondering if it was a common greeting of sorts, and admitted that I owned a deck, but aside from studying the meanings of the cards and getting a feel for them, I had done nothing with them at all. No readings, except two I did with book in hand for a friend and my wife.

She gestured to the table and said that I should do a reading for her. Just for practice. For amusement. I pulled the cards out of my pocket, where the reside most of the time (and sometimes leave a discernible impression, depending on how my coat is hanging, just to ruin the mystique of the initial encounter a little), and I sat down to give her a reading.

It was from her in the coming months that I became better at reading. From watching her, discussing with her. Not only did I learn about tarot from her, but a number of other things as well. Mostly practical things, dealing with herbs, making scented oils, etc..., but a number of other things as well. I came to practically live at the shop, even running the register and doing readings. The latter being the only part I was actually paid for. I came to know her rather well, as well as some of the other readers, teachers and practitioners that frequented the location. I still miss hanging out there, although I get a little ahead of myself in mentioning that.

It was this woman who first brought me into a coven. Through this experience she opened my eyes in more ways than one. This coven taught lessons of what is right, and of what is wrong. I still hold what happened within that coven sacred, so all I will say is that ultimately, the coven dissolved, and the store closed its doors. Most of the members of that coven don't talk to the other members at all, and I don't think any of us know what happened to "Erin". Still it was an eye opening experience, and I agreed with many of the other members that for the time being, I would not be involved in any coven again. (I am not stating here that they are bad things, I have worked with several that are wonderful. Just that an element of trust is necessary that is not easily achieved.)

One off shoot of this situation is that one of the coven members did stay in contact with me for some time. She clung to me when the rest of the environment collapsed around her. I had offered advice to people, spoken of that which I believed in, and etc... in the past months, but that was always with the safety net of the High Priestess behind me. Now, I was expected to have the right answers on my own. This put me back on course of how to make sure that I had the right answers to give.

Now I spent much time in meditation. Much time in studying what I saw around me. I followed the "lesson plans" in books I had acquired to see where I would end up. Sometimes I just threw them aside and decided that there was nothing for me there. I spent much time staring at my tattoo and wondering what I was missing there. I couldn't figure it out. Something was important.

Of course, what could be so spiritually pivotal about that tattoo, when I was the one who designed it and I was still looking for answers?

And the wind says, "Well, now. Let's think about that question..."

The Flower Moon

The Flower Moon became full at 2:51am EST. Rochester then saw it set at 5:36am. It will rise again as a waning moon at 9:26pm EST, to set at 6:11am tomorrow. Full moon in Shiprock, NM would have been at 12:51am Mountain Daylight time, setting at 6:01am. It rises again at 9:11pm to set at 6:41am tomorrow.

The Flower moon is one of those relatively obvious names. This is the time when there are seen a greater number of flowers in bloom. We all know that April Showers bring May Flowers. I wish I could go more in depth on this one, but it is a seasonal reference that the above little grade school phrase indicates is fairly well understood in our culture.

So there is your lunar update, you are free to go about your life, or something close to it.

A Mother's Tears

Putting out my cigarette, I turn to the trash toter to toss the butt away. Across the top of it wanders a ladybug, and as I open the lid to toss the butt in it drops to the ground.

I stand in the middle of the grotto. The jewels wink all about me on the walls around me and over my head. The water laps behind me and the altar lays in front of me. Just like every other time I have been here. Except one thing is missing. She is not here.

Moving around the grotto, more than I ever have before, I seek Her out, and I don't see Her. What I do see is a winding passage off in the corner. A dark passage, unlit by the jewels as the main chamber is. I step into it and feel my way along. The wet walls are my guide as I travel for some time down this corridor. I travel in darkness for some time before the light from an opening ahead allows me to see my way.

I reach the opening and step out into the woods. There is a familiar smell of pine as I walk across the ground toward the light. It is a fire in a clearing below. A clearing that I recognize as I get closer. A fire that I recognize. The stones, the trees, the clearing and the fire are all familiar to me. I have seen them several times before. All is much the same as it has been every time I have ventured out here. All is the same except one thing. Across from me is a log, and it is empty. She is not here.

I begin to panic. Where is She? How could I come to these places and not find Her? How could I come here without intention and not find Her? Confused and concerned, I make my way through the woods once more. I make my way to the top of the rise and down the other side. I feel lost, as truly I am. I don't recognize this portion of the woods. This is not a place I know.

I have no idea how long I have been climbing, when suddenly I stop. Not because I recognize the area. Not because of any recognition of what is going on. The only thing I recognize is that ahead of me, the ground is no more. In the darkness I can't see anything beyond, and I imagine for a moment that there might truly be nothing around me. As if the world has abandoned me, along with Her.

"I abandoned you?" She asks, Her tone incredulous. "Are you sure that is the way that it went?"

"Of course not." I counter quickly, turning to face Her. I can't see her clearly in the night. The moon is nearly full, but her face seems obscured for some reason.

"For some reason." She laughs, though the emotion behind the laugh doesn't seem to be amusement. "I am the reason."

Of course that would be the case. She can manipulate her appearance so I can see her as She wishes.

"Not so much as you imply." She says shortly. "Now explain how it is that I have abandoned you."

"I didn't mean that I thought you literally had, just that it felt that way for a moment." I reply honestly.

"Good. So you understand that such is not a friendly thing to do? To make one feel abandoned?" There is heat in her voice now. My own matches it.

"Are you saying that you hid from me to prove some point, or just to make me feel bad?" I demand.

"Watch yourself." She warns. "I am not in a playful mood right now. You can try to be respectful for once."

A wise suggestion, obviously, but one that would take a little effort to apply right at this moment. "Why did you bring me out here and then hide from me?"

The emotion in Her voice is different as She speaks now. I can't quite place what it is. "You have your facts completely wrong. I didn't hide from you. I have been walking behind you since you came to visit. I didn't bring you here either. You sought me."

"I don't recall seeking you." I admit, not by way of denial. "Perhaps the ladybug led me to think of you."

"Perhaps."

"You were walking behind me the whole time?" I push.

"I was." She answers quietly. "All you had to do was turn around and you would have seen me." The emotion is stronger now, and it brings shivers as I can't put my finger on it.

"You could have let me know you were there at any point." I say, anger rising again. "Were you just toying with me to see what I would do?"

"I waited for you." She says by way of response. "You never came."

"What do you mean I never came?" I ask Her. "I was the one wandering around wondering where you were."

"Not tonight." She replies, anger mixing with that something else for just a moment. "I mean the Sunday before last."

I do a quick calculation in my mind. Sunday before last. Beltane. I shake my head. "I was tired."

"A simple excuse." Her voice is still quiet.

"I had to work. I have a family to take care of, a child to raise. I don't see you stepping in and making that any easier." I snap at Her angrily.

"I am always working." She fires back. "And what have you done lately to help me care for my children?"

I am slightly taken aback at that and just look at Her. "I do what I can do, and I try to balance my life and my spirituality. I may not hit all of the ceremonial points every time, I may not make a big deal out of every Sabbatt and Esbat, but I do my best. I acknowledged the day. I did my small part. I even posted on it for others to share. What else would you have had me do?" I become increasingly agitated as I go through all of this. As if I am missing something. Several somethings.

"I would have had you dance." She replies.

"I don't dance." I answer Her offhand, my voice rising with agitation. I lower it again. "We both know that."

"You dance with me on Beltane!" She yells back. The pack, whom I haven't noticed until now howls in fear and disapproval. A note of sadness hangs in the air as well. Her voice is much quieter as She says, "I waited for you to come and dance. You never showed. I understood the difficulties of that day, but you didn't come late either. You just never came. You didn't dance."

The emotion in Her voice hits me in the chest like a sledgehammer as I finally realize what it is. With that simple recognition, Her face comes into view, and I can see the tears running down Her face.

"It was beyond my control on that night. Things got out of hand in my life. I didn't turn my back on you, I was just trying to do what needs to be done." I try to explain in anyway possible to make sure She understands. Why on earth is She crying?

"What do you want me to say?" She asks quietly. "That you are right? That you aren't that important. You are right, and you couldn't be more wrong."

"I don't understand." I say truthfully. "I do what I can, but I am far from having the answers. I never realized that I danced on Beltane. Perhaps that scared me, although I don't think so. I think that mentally and physically I have just been too tired. " I shake my head. "I still don't understand why this is such an important issue though."

Her voice is still sad, but the tears are gone. "I know that you don't understand. The answer is in the question, and in keeping with the agreement you called upon a couple of weeks ago, one that we never actually made, I won't ask that question tonight. You have three days. Three days until I ask a question you neither understand, nor can answer. You will leave angry again, and I may wait another year to dance with you, unless you have given up even that day."

She turns to walk away, leaving the questions in my mind far from answered. "Where are you going?" I demand, willing Her to return and help me understand. She keeps walking.

"I have children to feed, watch over, and take care of." She replies sarcastically. "I don't see you doing anything to help me out."

Who is Mc?

I think this would be especially challenging for the people like MaryEllen or Chip Nelson who don't even know me. If either of them gets over 50% without help I'll NETELLER them $10.


Who is Mc?