I’ve written a document called “The Summary of Astrological Terms” which I’m making available for download. It’s nine pages long; gives some specific definitions of the astrological system I use. Some of you are bound to find it useful. Enjoy!

It’s in the form of a PDF document because it contains a lot of astrological glyphs which turn into gibberish if you haven’t got the font (and I’m pretty sure you haven’t).

Download here

You’re welcome .

I’m sitting in the Zocalo Cafe in Courtenay, watching the rain outside and feeling content with my lot in life. I took my bike in to Sarah’s bike shop across the street and by the weekend I’ll be on two wheels again! And that is so excycling I can’t even tell you.

See the thing is, while in Chemainus my bike was consigned to an inaccessible corner in the basement, since there was no other place to keep it. And it was an odd place when it comes to cycling; everything in town proper was an easy walk but the roads were definitely not cycle-friendly. And Duncan was just too far to ride to (for me).

Now, my bike is conveniently stored and I live a sweet 7k ride from town, so once again my bike gets to be my main form of transport. Yess!!

The reason I’m sitting at my computer in a cafe instead of going home to write is that I’m experiencing a router issue. My connectivity at home is, shall we say, variable. So as soon as I get some cash ahead a new router is on my shopping list.

And now that I have a home to do card readings from–two homes in fact–I will indeed be getting some cash ahead very soon. I have some debts to pay off, but the lack of having to pay rent is a sweet treat indeed and makes life feel more doable all around.

These are my card reading homes in Courtenay: on Fridays from noon until five I’m at Winds of Change, which is the Moonliting of Courtenay (crystals, tarot cards, readings, hemp / organic cotton clothing, esoteric books etc). In fact, it is the only shop of its kind in the Comox Valley, so there is no reason it shouldn’t do well.
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My server has been down for the last couple of days, and even though I haven’t blogged since my post-Mother’s Day piece, when I wanted to blog it was a terrible grating frustration not to be able to–and to imagine the website being inaccessible, oh dear!

Now that the server is back up, here I go.

To blog or not to blog is not a question anymore, because I’m going to do it anyway. Words on a screen accessible to other eyeballs is a unique and compelling new part of our new-millenial world.

In my old days, I filled journal after journal with my thoughts, angst, insights and tales of joy and woe. Even though paper is more reliable, and after the Big Crash ‘they’ keep foreseeing I imagine those will survive while all this electronic information may prove ephemeral, somehow journals no longer hold the allure they once did.

Now it’s all about sharing! Sharing! Sharing! Publicize the private! There are arguments for and against, and we hash them all out endlessly in public.

Personally, I like to think it’s an evolutionary imperative. I enjoy imagining that we’re all nodes in the planetary brain, and therefore the more information we share (whether about our inner thoughts and feelings or our opinions about externals such as politics and issues) helps to increase synaptic traffic and to make the whole world smarter. Why not?

To some, the modern propensity toward proliferation of personal revelations and gut-spillings, the current plague of political and metaphysical perspectives on the web is a bad thing, a gluttony of greed by needy ‘look at me’ self-centered bombasts.

But to me, it’s all part of the evolutionary mix. It makes me feel better about participating in the particularly gut-naked way I sometimes do. And this post may be a waste of words, but perhaps it needed saying. It may be that I just increased the synaptic traffic in the brain of the planet by laying all that out again.

At the very least, this entry is a placeholder and a way to catch up on my back self-portraits. More with actual substance to come, and soon.

I never meant to be that mom. You know her; you don’t like her. Nobody does. Poor-me mom wrings her hands, looks at her children with big teary eyes, and whines, “You never call me. You ignore my birthday and Mother’s Day. You don’t give me presents. What have I done to deserve such children who don’t love their mother? Where did I go wrong? Did I not love you enough? Please let me love you more! How can I make up for what I did wrong if you won’t let me love you now!”

She twists every conversation until it becomes about her; she pulls strings of guilt, she makes the kids feel like crap to be around her. That’s a big part of why they don’t call. 

And she’s not as helpless and pathetic as she pretends, for looming behind her, only half in shadow, is her other self, angry mother with teeth and claws, who snarls, “Why you ungrateful wretches, I gave you life itself, I gave you everything, and this is the thanks I get? You owe me! You owe me your very existence! Everything you are, I made!” She’s scary. Man. She scares even me.
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Holy smokes. Ever since I got here, my pictures have been full of orbs. There is definitely a vibe in the space. No question.

It feels amazing. I hadn’t been sure how much of that ‘amazingness’ (apologies for the cop-out generic word; I can’t think how to describe this feeling) had to do with my usual ‘I’m moving into a new space and clearing space in my life for a while until it all gets dusty, cluttered, disordered and I have to move again’ pattern and how much it had to do with something special or unusual going on.

Partly it’s moving in at Beltane, and this Friday is the Scorpio Full Moon, also known as Lunar Beltane, a potent time indeed. So these dancing faeries are a natural part of the season, I suspect; still, I feel blessed and special that they are here dancing with me. Whee!

The orbs, though. Some people think they’re ghosts. I’m not so sure about that interpretation; I don’t actually feel they are spirits of dead people hanging around my space. Personally I think they’re faeries. Just like everything, but cool anyway.
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Thee and Me

chorus:

Won’t hurt, can’t hurt, how could it hurt hurt
Being what you’re feeling, feeling what you are
Won’t hurt, can’t hurt, how could it hurt hurt
show your inside outside, follow your own star

Born into a world of pain, lied to taught to be ashamed
feeling lost and different, none of us the same
our parents they were lied too, they’re not the ones to blame
no one to point the finger at, no one we can name
the buck stops here, the time is near, we’re going to end the game
chorus:

We are taught that we are bad inside, sinners one and all
Twisted wrong and dirty, we all hide inside walls
We’re taught not to trust anyone, ourselves the least of all
afraid to do just as we feel, we live like plastic dolls
This sickness real it’s time to heal, it’s time to heed the call
chorus:

We’re taught that we are born in sin, evil Satan’s spawn
and we’re taught that we’re God’s children and He loves us right or wrong
tied up in contradiction, can’t tell where we belong
It’s time we opened up to feel our inner truth so strong
We have a choice, we hear a voice, we recognize its song
chorus:

You, me, we are connected, inside we are the same
we don’t have to play this old separation game
We’ve all got a direct line to our Source that needs no name
we don’t have to buy those lies like sheep docile and tame
God’s not above but in and of, a picture with no frame
chorus:

Some aspects of this moving thing are kinda blowing my mind, and when my mind blows, I need to tell somebody about it. That’s the blessing of a blog. And by the way, I am so grateful to (and for) you guys. It’s amazing to have this socially acceptable venue in which to spill my guts in public.

So here’s the thing: for the first time since … well, ever, I’m settling into a home that feels as though it might actually last longer than my past pattern of a year or two in a place, three or four at most. I feel that way for these reasons:

a) the rent is free and promised to remain so,
b) what I am asked to do in exchange for the space is something that I have been dying to get to do for my whole life pretty much. (At some point I’ll tell the tale of my relationship with horses)
c) it feels good to me in virtually every way; and the kicker,
d) they want somebody to stay long term. Forever, if desired. And that’s a big draw for me: roots.

So I’m letting myself act as if I’m going to spend the rest of my life here. Not that I can accurately predict such things as the future (at least not with regard to myself), nor can I know what I will want or what changes life might bring. Still, for change’s sake I am choosing to take the plunge, unpacking crates and cases that, in some cases, have not been more than occasionally looked into in ten or even fifteen years.
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I made it in one piece; I’m now way far behind on posting.

Not only that, I don’t yet have wireless access where I live, so I’m writing this from an internet cafe in Courtenay called Zocolo. It’s a great space and bids fair to become my new home away from home, though to my great disheartenment I discovered that the rear tire on my bicycle is toasted. I need to get it, or perhaps just the tube, replaced before I can get in the thigh-pumping calorie-burning sweat-inducing bike rides of my dreams.

This is the perfect distance away from home for a good workout without being so far as to be impossible. But the hurdles for my mechanically-disinclined and momentarily financially destitute self to overcome before I can actually act on that vision take the air out of my internal tires too.

But I didn’t start this post to cry the blues about my bike and brokeness, though, so stop it. These are merely dark clouds in a mostly clear blue sky because so much is working and feeling good right now. Even storm clouds are lovely when the sun shines on them and outlines them in gilt and silver.

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