More on my Kooky House

People with no TV - what the heck should we do tonight, honey? There was a long white corridor at the top of the stairs that proved to be the perfect blank canvas for this winter's kooky house project.

We decided on a four seasons theme. First we sponged a background with a fade from yellow to blue. Then we painted trunks and branches. Frosty fairies and blue birds, wise owls and long icicles, summer sprites and hummingbirds, dancing elves and sprouting mushrooms soon appeared amidst the fall foliage, spring buds and summer blossoms.

 Mike the Dragon seems to be enjoying the new view tremendously. Of course, the only question now is: what next?

Hawk Medicine

It was late afternoon as we walked along the railroad tracks, the setting sun a dazzling gold ball before us. My daughter had volunteered to dog sit while a friend was out of town, and we were now returning to our cat filled abode.

A dark shadow passed in front of the sun, then swooped before us again before landing just a few feet away on the fence. Deep amber eyes over a hooked beak, the creamy chest feathers heaving with each breath, tawny tail and wings primly folded at it’s sides, the bird of prey calmy regarded us for long moments.

“Hawk Medicine!” My mind whirled, digging up lore and superstition, myth and magic, my own personal symbolism weaving with all the other happenings of the day, all that this omen could potentially portend. Before I could whisper a word, it launched itself off the fence in one graceful move, circled over a nearby redwood, then moved west, disappearing into the glowing orange sunset once more.

“Wow...” I breathed, eyes shining, facing my daughter, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this might be one of those random moments that she would remember forever, even years from now when I lay a-mouldering in the grave. Honor all life’s messages and all life’s messengers kept ringing in my mind. “Wow... What a sign!”

“Yep, sign of the fowl” she quipped, not missing a beat, “Sure sign we should have chicken for dinner tonight, Mom.”

Outta the mouths of babes...

Crossroads

As you ponder your path

I wonder if I am a distraction
Where has there been union
Where is there faction
Each step we take,
each tiny action
What was a response,
What has been the reaction

I can chart the stars
or cast the cards
to give you more information
But the truth is
it’s up to you
To decide your destination
If you want to know
Where you need to go
Try to google map
Your own imagination

There's times it seems so clear
Times the fog is dense
When I left you at the crossroads
You were still leaning on that fence
You make your choices,
you decide
Let your heart
be your guide

And though the parting
felt hard there in the end
In my heart of hearts
I think of you as a friend
And I’ll always smile
when I remember we shared
Something more
than a few molecules of air.

Thoughts on TV

In general, people spend about 15 hours a week, or 38% of their free time watching TV. Children receive about 360,000 commercial messages by the time they graduate from high school. Only 3% of characters depicted on Saturday morning children’s fare are black, and only 1% are Hispanic. Only 13% of people surveyed said they prefer spending time with family over other activities, including watching TV. (from” Glued to the Tube: The Threat of Television Addiction to Today’s Family” by Cheryl Pawlowski, Ph.D.

I admit it. I'm one of those "kill your television" kinda people. I killed mine back in 1997, after realizing that TV was running my life. Literally, the day the new TV guide arrived in the mail, we would make a spreadsheet of the week's TV schedule: what we would watch, what would be taped, what my partner would watch when I wasn't home (in particular, cop shows). TV dictated when we when out, when we stayed in and when we went to bed. Remember, this was before the days of TiVo.

After getting divorced, I disconnected ye olde cable. I still had my hand dandy VCR, and expected to watch plenty of movies. To my surprise, I watched fewer and fewer, besides for the ones my kid chose. I attributed this partly to the lack of commercials - although indeed, suddenly previews had more meaning.

I live a pretty kooky, creative life, and often people ask me where I find the time for all my various and sundry projects. Well, imagine just the time saved in not making any more TV schedule spreadsheets...

Interestingly enough, it has affected my social life. Folks often talk about current shows at work, etc. and I feel left out of the loop. I just smile and nod politely, but inside I wonder if I'm this crazy reclusive hermit who is loosing touch with the "real" world.

But now I have discovered Netflix, and my life has changed. I love renting TV series - the lack of commercials, the ability to watch 3 hours and 35 minutes of Friends with no interruption, and the incredible backlog of TV shows after a twelve year hiatus...


I also noticed how central TV is for family bonding - last year my housemate would hole up in her room with the TV on all night for company. This year my new housemate & I deeply bonded over Battlestar Galactica, watching the entire series last fall. The ubiquitous drums still ring in my ears. We named the toaster oven "3/12ths" and when it bings we chime, "Cylon Says!"

In some ways, the TV is the new hearth to gather around, but I'll be curious to see what shifts and changes as TV evolves. Or to be more precise, how will projecting visions for entertainment change, just starting with the Internet - look at YouTube, the quality of streaming videos, the webcam technology improving constantly. Will we become more isolated, like the future folks of Wall-Es world, each with our private screen? Or will there be a return of the drive-in, the movie theater with balcony seats, as we gather together to experience the humanity found in being an audience sitting in the dark together?

Well, my little red envelopes of love and entertainment are beckoning to me. Sure wish I had some microwave popcorn. Oh, and a microwave, but that's another story...

Merry Meet

Romantic Notions Series
"Merry Meet"
Hand watercolored design
copyright kgr 2003

Adventures at PantheaCon: Day 4

My fourth time over the hill in 4 days. Not a big deal to some, but more times than I've driven in probably a year. After all, I live in Santa Cruz, and why leave paradise?

I started out with Every Day Reiki - Magickal and Mundane presented by Francena Marie Hancock. Based on Diane Stein's Essential Reiki, this certainly was the calmest, most peaceful workshop I attended. There was an interesting discussion on why do we ask permission before doing Reiki when Reiki can cause no harm. The general conclusion was out of respect and courtesy - just as in the mundane world every repair person rings the doorbell before entering your space to provide their service.

Next I attended a Sacred Circle Dance hosted by The Bay Area Circle Dancers. From the program, "...simple dances to honor the earth and its rhythms, dances of ceremony, ritual, life and death, and the turning of the seasons... to beautiful music from England, Greece, Israel, Russia, Lapland and the Americas, always closing with the moving dance to Charlie Murphy's "Burning Times".

...And the Pope declared an inquisition It was a war against the women, whose power they feared In the holocaust against the nature people Nine million European women died...

Now the Earth is a witch, and the men still burn her
Stripping her down with mining, and the poisons of their wars
Still to us the Earth is a healer, a teacher, a mother
The weaver of a web of life that keeps us all alive...

As in the Self-Blessing Ritual, here was were I felt the most at home. I was with my tribe, with my kin, holding hands with the old woman next to me, mirroring the young girl across the circle, a part of each person present as we matched our steps and moved our hips. The ninety minutes felt like five and I left feeling that I had just accomplished my whole purpose in attending the con - clarity, connection, and community.

The last lecture I went to was Magic of the Self-Your Holy Guardian Angel hosted by Robert Hagar. Designed to encourage one to find one's own inner teacher rather than relying on outside sources, I was reminded of the classic line from Starhawk's Charge of the Star Goddess:

if that which you seek, you find not within yourself,
You will never find it without...

I drove home equally exhilarated as I was exhausted, fell into bed around 4pm and slept for 15 hours. The sun came out on Tuesday, and after work I laid out on the back deck to get some rays on my face. I found myself thinking about the angel in the Lovers card and wondering who my guardian angel could be, when very clearly the Angel Michael came to me.

To be more precise, I had a visitation from my friend Mikey, who died a few years ago from AIDS related complications after getting a cat scratch. Mikey! My bestest buddy from post college days, just beaming down at me with this beatific smile around his busted up nose. He always did look like a prize fighter, Mikey did, but to the core he was a lover.

"Mikey! I've missed you so much!" I cried, tears pouring down my cheeks.

"Why?" His eyebrows crossed quizzically, "I'm right here, you know. You can't miss me if I'm right here." I laughed at the realization. "Girl, I see good things for you," he continued, "Mmm, hmm, good things..."

I somehow expected angels to be winged creatures or beams of light more than a flaming queen, but if Mikey is my new inner teacher, I'm expecting some fun lessons ahead. Well, that's why I'm a pagan... Fun is my spiritual path.

Let My worship be in the heart that rejoices,  
For behold—all acts of love and pleasure are My rituals...
Blessed Be!

Adventures at Pantheacon: Day 3

Sunday I went solo to PantheaCon, weathering the pouring rain as best possible, Astarius cranked on the CD player. Dressed today in rich velvets and sumptuous silks, I felt quite sparkly in my gypsy skirt covered in gold sequins, my anklet tinkling silver bells, glitter on my cheeks & bindi's aplenty on my third eye (Bindi there! Done that!). Indeed, the whole conference was fully bejeweled, bespangled and bedazzling. If you have ever been to a Renaissance Faire, you know what a lusty, corset filled experience it can be, and imagine that energy further stuffed into an overflowing hotel setting. Simply scrumptious.

I missed my intended workshop on Wild Women Chant for Peace with Z Budepest by a few minutes, as my inner chant for coffee took precedence. The ritual was closed by the time I reached the ballroom, so I decided to randomly enter one of the other workshops in progress.

I slipped in to Pan: The God of All being hosted by Jason Mankey. Good lourdes, could this man be any more attractive? Thick blond, shoulder length hair, the kind you just want to entwine your fingers in; Sparkly blue eyes, mischievous as he dryly delivered yet another phallic joke; self confidence radiating from his entire being in the most relaxed, sexy and natural way. I was simply intoxicated.

Forty minutes of deep fantasy ensued while not paying the least attention to what he was saying, finally some of the words began to sink in. "Pan is the god of anti-monogamy, the god of anti-marriage. Pan is the god of the bar hook up - Let's just say he ain't no Aphrodite with flowers and poems." What on earth was I doing here? I slipped out early, feeling like a recovered addict who had just been offered heroin. Luckily Pan is also the god of masturbation, and certainly Jason gave me plenty of fantasy fodder for the following week.

Donald Michael Kraig hosted a workshop on Experiencing Your Past Lives. He first lectured on hypnosis, leading the audience through several exercises to experience trance, including a count down to a past life experience with a message relevant to today. I thought about all the stomach problems I have had this year, and set the intention to discover the deeper cause.

"And when I reach zero, you will be aware of your surroundings. Start by looking at your shoes..." I looked down at the coarsely stitched brown leather that had passed as my shoes for years. I was aware of vivid green grass, grey stones covered with paler green lichen, the feeling of a cow's warm side, the fact that it was the year 800 in a borderland between France & Belgium. I lived a simple life, making cheeses, laid out on wood slabs, needing to be turned each day, slowly ripening for market. "Now imagine it's the day before your death, and allow an important message to come through..."

Unfortunately, there was a miscommunication about timing and the experience was cut short just when we got to the really juicy part, and I left feeling incomplete. Luckily I'm a certified hypnotherapist myself, and later that night I found it easy to slip into trance and really flush out the details of my experience.

I'm in a tavern, arguing with the inn keeper. I see a bone handled knife, very clearly. I see an abdomen, cut open, slippery guts sliding out - I don't know if it's the tavern keepers' or my own. Later I am with my husband in our hut with no windows, just a hole in the ceiling for the smoke from the fire to escape. It is our last moment together, and I know I have made the right choices.

The two messages I receive are crystal clear: Stop waiting for other's to commit. It is up to me to make the commitment. And so simple, so profound: Trust your gut instincts.

Blessed Be.