Direction

 okay so... 

I did a big reading to get guidance now that I seem to have lost my sense of purpose. Brandi at work says i'm having a quarter of life crisis and I don't think the statement is inaccurate. 

The reading pretty much said that I needed to focus on myself, with 2 primary goals:

1) Heal from Viking man

2) focus on spirituality  - emphasis on dream walking and world walking, as well as reconnecting with nature and source. 

I can say that I have definitely been more sensitive to presences lately, and I'm noticing a change in my dreams and ability to manipulate dreams. I'm not at a point where it's full lucid dreaming, but I feel like I'm not far from it. I need to start doing guided meditations for myself to better develop the world walking skill. 

Maybe in a few months I'll feel comfortable enough to take the Irish shamanism classes. 

Its not so much a physical goal, the way school was, but the gods and faerie folk have told me my new direction is inward and my goal is... myself?

Graduate.

In a matter of days I will be a Masters Degree Graduate. 

Unexpectedly... that has caused a sort of identity crisis. 

I have been in school all of my life. If we want to ignore everything prior to highschool, thats from 2010-2021. Over a decade. For over a decade my only real attainable goals and motivations have been school. Pass this test. Pass this Class. Graduate High School. Graduate College. Graduate Graduate School. 

Now?

Nothing. I do not have any immediate goals. I have no sense of purpose. Nothing to motivate me to do anything. For over a decade I have been a student... now what am I? I feel so disconnected to myself that I don't even recognize myself in the mirror... I just see Racheal's face. 

I know that I could devote myself to hobbies or passions.. Maybe take up volunteering? Get back into reading. Maybe see about how my boss feels about me listening to podcasts while at work so that I don't go stir crazy. Maybe sneak a book to work?  I would take up art but what's the point? I would just be throwing them away.  I should get back into writing. Could set up a little nook on my back patio if I wasn't worried about things getting stolen, sit out there in the mornings with coffee and try writing. I should start a garden. 

I also suddenly have the urge to rearrange my whole apartment. Actually go through and put up all my laundry so that I know what can actually fit where. See about condensing my clothes so that I can maybe get rid of my neon dresser. Donate some books, so I can move all my candles and things into the living room onto the smaller dresser. This would create more space in my bedroom where I could move the cat stuff. If the cat litter were in my bedroom it would help motivate me to clean it more often and vacuum up the spread out litter. 

Then by moving the cat section of the living room to my bedroom, I make more space for entertaining people. The smell will automatically be better so I will be less self conscious about that and I will have more space for dancing. I can get some seating/storage for guests. 

However I also feel like I'm heading into a manic phase (i;ve been depressed the past few days) so I need to be careful because I'm itching to spend a lot of money. On the couch. On a large cat tree. On books. On games so that I can have game nights again. I have the urge to go through all my clothes and condense them.... and then go to goodwill and get more to diversify my wardrobe. 

I can at least use this mania as a way to super clean my apartment. Once I move the cat stuff to my room, I can mop the whole livingroom and kitchen area, and vacuum the rug. 

Bare minimum today I can go through my clothes,  do the cat litter, and dishes. Maybe go through the books and transfer stuff around on shelving. 

I need a sense of purpose or I am going to go crazy.

Landscape (poem)

When I stand naked, bare, in front of the mirror

I feel as if I am looking upon an alien form. 

I do not recognize the home my soul has taken;

A Landscape of pale olive blandness, 

a desert of skin over meat and bone. 

I look upon soft flesh, damp from southerner humidity,

full, small breasts hang unevenly like overly ripe apples, 

or pears softened in the summer sun. 

I stare in disappointment, but can't help but find pleasure

in the small pink dogwood buds that sit on the edges. 

My swollen belly protrudes farther than my comfort, 

yet the jiggle reminds me of watching

plump squirrels as they lounge lazily on the magnolia branch. 

I cup my hands around my navel, as I would to gather soil

in the garden to plant a new seed, new life. 

I want to turn away from the form before me,

but my eyes follow the curves and bends

as if caught in the current of a mountain stream. 

I stood in awe watching the water once, 

now that sense of gratitude floods my senses.  

My legs, marked like that of tree bark, 

roots shooting from my hips, down my thighs -   

The curvature of my form, the humid cave

covered by soft and supple moss,

the hair on my body as natural as the grass in the earth. 

When I stand naked, bare, in front of the mirror

I feel as if I am looking upon an alien form. 

While I do not recognize the home my soul has taken,

I see a form made up of natural beauty, wonder, 

born to the south, I have made my home in the landscape.