Quiz

You are The High Priestess

Science, Wisdom, Knowledge, Education.

The High Priestess is the card of knowledge, instinctual, supernatural, secret knowledge. She holds scrolls of arcane information that she might, or might not reveal to you. The moon crown on her head as well as the crescent by her foot indicates her willingness to illuminate what you otherwise might not see, reveal the secrets you need to know. The High Priestess is also associated with the moon however and can also indicate change or fluxuation, particularily when it comes to your moods.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Not bored, just waiting for things to download.

Close to Home

I know that many people know about the California fires, but I want to share a photo from a friend’s land very near the Buckweed fire. She has evacuated her animals (including three horses), and has been evacuated twice, but is home now for the time.

Also, my roommate Raven has family in the Valley Center, Poway and El Cajon areas who are in imminent danger of the Witch Fire and others. Please keep all of California and her people in your thoughts, and send cool, moist air to weaken the high-pressure system and calm the winds.

Carl Sandburg

I love you for what you are, but I love you yet more for what you are going to be. I love you not so much for your realities as for your ideals. I pray for your desires that they may be great, rather than for your satisfactions, which may be so hazardously little. The most beautiful rose is one hardly more than a bud wherein the pangs and ecstasies of desire are working for a larger and finer growth. You are going forward toward something great. I am on the way with you and I love you.

~Carl Sandburg, Untitled, Selected Poems

It is done.

Roshi dies, and she finds him in her self.

Why is it that I find such deep sadness in his passing, such a longing for a teacher to touch me in that way?

And why is my heart so quiet?

Long Quiet Highway

The wind blew strong across the fields this evening, drawing down the last breath of summer in the rustling of golden leaves. I’m tired of wearing shorts and tank tops in October, when the joy of jeans and sweaters is usually upon me. I’ve finally traded in my camisoles for t-shirts, and bermudas for long denim, by the time night falls — at 6.30pm these days. The windows are only open a sliver, enough to let in the breeze without freezing the plants. I’m hoping for a frost soon like the one we had two weeks ago: gentle but with a bit of sting. That was the frost which hurt many of the local farms. It’d be okay now, with the season almost finished.

My fingers have been itching for yarn lately. It’s not uncommon for me to crave knitting, but this time it seems an uncontrollable desire, an overwhelming urge to create, to take one piece of string and fashion a remarkable work of art. I’ve had my eye on this sweater for quite some time now, and I’d really love to knit it. Even the color of the sample is the perfect color for me. The magazine has been near my makeshift workspace (the corner of the sofa) for days, and sometimes I even take it with me to work in order to stare at all the pretties.

It’s sad when you’re so wanton to knit, and yet just about can’t. It’s a good thing I’ve some stash tucked away. I thought I had lost one of my wristwarmers while on retreat, but it mysteriously appeared in my suitcase while I was unpacking. I had pulled out some Cascade 220 in a heathered/multicolor purple, and I’m thinking I’m going to knit some wristwarmers with a nice cable along the back of the hand. I’m thinking I actually want to make them a flowing cable on an all-knit background. They’ll be slouchy and comfy and just perfect. Yum!

The grad school applications … Well, they’re coming along. I’ve got some time left before I really have to solidify my statement of purpose, but I have narrowed it down to those four programs, and I’m actually really focusing on the top three, and my general statement can be basic with some slight tailoring for the department, and I only have two essays to write for departmental requirements, so I’m not feeling so bad about it all.

Lately I’ve been reading Long Quiet Highway, by Natalie Goldberg. In it she talks a lot about her time in Minnesota, and about beginning her time studying with Katagiri Roshi at the MN Zen Center. It is about leaving New Mexico, and coming back. It’s about finding her center, finding her spark, finding her core.

It’s about everything I’m experiencing these days.

I just can’t seem to put it down. I mean, I’m reading it nonstop, I carry it with me, I even sneak it onto the sales floor with me while at work. I read it before bed, and in spare moments upon waking. Since I’m nearing the end, though, I’m a bit sad by my voracity. It means the end comes sooner, which is not something I’m looking forward to. I haven’t really had a big awakening, and I haven’t studied with any one teacher for long enough to comment on my deepening with them, and sometimes I wonder if I’ve learned anything at all. But I think I may just write Ms. Goldberg a letter one of these days. I’m sure she gets them all the time. I don’t know if she reads them personally. I don’t even know where to send it. Regardless, I know that I — as a writing teacher — love hearing the impact my work and my teaching has on others. I wonder if Natalie Goldberg is the same way …

The sun is long gone, the moon well across the sky. I’ve another early morning at work, and another long day on my feet. I think I’ll curl up under the covers with the window cracked and Katagiri Roshi and Natalie Goldberg and a kitten or two and perhaps even paper and pen, something to distract my mind and lead the way to center.

Maybe not every highway is a paved road …

I’m Here!!!

Finally, Ravelry drew my name!

dancingwillow is on now!

In This Moment

I’ve chewed my nails to the quick, and developed a twitch in my right eye. My sinuses have been draining for a week, and the weather has taken a bizarre upswing in temperature … Today it was 87 degrees outside. In October.

I’ve spent most of the afternoon and evening researching (again) graduate school programs to which I might apply. It’s not that I’ve been putting this off (applications are due between 12/1 and 12/15), it’s simply that I’ve lacked the confidence to apply, as well as the confidence to think I can get accepted if I do apply.

And now, well, I just can’t stand it any longer. It’s really all Jessie’s fault. She’s all being brave, and I just hate to be left out of something exciting. I know, it’s silly. But it’s totally true. I don’t want to be the only one who’s not doing brave things. So, I’m back to researching programs, back to looking at my options in this giant University town.

I’ve narrowed it down to four prospective programs:

Women’s Studies MA,
Sociology MA/PhD,
Library and Information Studies MA,
Creative Writing MFA (in Fiction, which I don’t write, but they say you     can submit creative nonfiction).

These definitely are in consideration order, as well, considering that the first three are most likely going to be the ones I apply to. But I had forgotten how much work it is, all this grad school stuff.

And all I really want is a good night’s sleep and someone warm to snuggle with — one who won’t lick my eyelids to wake me up (Goddess love my Franklin kitty, but that’s a little strange, even for me).

Raven

She hides behind moonlight, skating between silvery shadows to quiet midnight corners. The thing with feathers, black as evermore, gentle rustle of windswept wings on a starless breeze.

She eludes me in my waking, arriving — as I slumber — on the waves of beta and delta. Her song takes me deeper, in the rain, in the the hollows, in the my own forested thoughts. She says one thing, then reveals another slide like a moving picture show.

I cover all my mirrors to keep from scaring her. One glimpse of her ragged beauty and I am sure she would take flight, soar away from my labyrinthine life. I know she cannot see her true self. Neither can I.

Take pleasure in that which I can rely upon: laundry to be washed, dishes to be scrubbed, kittens to be fed. When the work is unsteady, pick up the habits, the knitting the baking the unread texts. When she arrives, do not be startled — do not show that you are pleased. She will take great pleasure in your gratitude and quickly run to leave, bringing to another all that for which you were grateful.

Don’t let her slam the window when she takes your hope and flies.

Life

Well, I’m really still here. I look at this page every day, using it to navigate toward all other daily reading, but I never think I have the time or energy to write something profound. Which is because I have the crazy notion I should only blog profound things, or at least things which might be of interest to another person.

Basically, I think I’m too boring to blog.

But now I’m working on revamping my computer so that it works well and is happy and runs programs without too many hiccups. I’ve made some major decisions about my future (which include applying to grad school–again, learning web design, and getting more freelance work), and I’m slowly working towards the tools I need to make these plans a reality. I am trying to learn things like coding languages and programming scripts and filling out applications and writing to managing editors and trying to find a way to cut back on my day job so I have room to breathe.

The kittens are splendid. Franklin is 5 months old, and Scatha is 3 months old, and she is currently curled up on Raven’s shoulder sleeping while Franklin is sleeping at the top of the 8-foot cat tree. They’re not at all loved or spoiled.

Today Raven and I are planning on running some errands (we had Denny’s for breakfast), maybe playing some games, and really have a nice, fun time together at the house before the week begins. Too often we’re both really busy during the week and don’t hardly see each other, so I love it when we can share some time together on the weekend. It’s hard to be roommates with someone if you don’t even know. Tomorrow starts another busy day, busy week, and so I’m savoring my time away from retail as much as possible.

Next week I could be offered a freelance position with a real University press, and I could have prospects for earning money doing what I love. Next week I could start considering cutting my hours back at the department store. Next week I could feel like the world is leveling out, like the tremors are subsiding after the quake.

But that’s next week. Today, I just want to have fun.

Watch This

Zeitgeist Movie