This week’s exercises kind of made me laugh just because 1. creating a wonderful smell is a little too apt of a job for a perfumer and 2. everything is a little harder scheduled around a move. I’m not even sure when/how I’ll be able to do my artist’s date – apparently I signed up for a library lecture this week, and I have to do a house blessing at that time.

So, since it’s the lightest of all the tasks, here is my list of 5 favorite movies. I knew what they had in common before I wrote them down:
1. Finnian’s Rainbow
2. Pump up the Volume
3. She’s All That
4. 10 Things I Hate about You
5. Black Snake Moan

Each one speaks to, in some way, causes of social justice and has characters finding ways within and without a given social system to define themselves. They also all have, more or less, happy endings – they send the message that good isn’t easy, but it can prevail. They all also have highly assertive female characters, whether they start that way or not.

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I’m going to preface this by saying that in my path to creating a sense of abundance, I really have to undo a lot of messages embedded into my being about scarcity. This was a highly volatile week, and on top of it, I’m stressed out over a move where Mike and I must take stock of every single thing we own along with very expensive things we need, raising my guilt about the fact that he’s supporting me despite a pretty clear demonstration that my health and the divine wants me doing what I’m doing.

Also, because I felt pressed for time, I feel like I half-assed my Artist’s Date, even if the result was a nice blue dress I look adorable in.

So, on to the check-in:

1. 7 out of 7 pages. Mike’s even started planning our days around giving me time to do them. I didn’t really use them to find ways to create luxury – I used them more to examine where my sense of scarcity comes from, and I was unsurprised to discover most of it rests in my issues with my body, health and self-image.

2. I did do my artist’s date, but I feel very guilty that it wound up being clothes shopping. Given that I’m a fashion blogger and I love clothing, it makes perfect sense but I feel like I was somehow cheating. This makes no sense – fashion IS luxury, especially since decent clothing was something I was denied as a kid. Gee, more foibles and digging deeper right here right now. I think it comes from family attitudes/accusations that fashion is shallow. Fashion can be shallow, but mostly it’s not. Fashion is actually a highly complex way of presenting power and social status, and manipulating other’s perceptions accordingly. Personally, I think my family just didn’t get it and that they still don’t, but rather than just admit that, I was made to feel guilty about something I have a real passion for.
It’s mini-Me syndrome, and part of why I spend a lot of time informing people “I am NOT your mirror.”

3. The Goodwill incident was very synchronous, especially since that night I did a full moon ritual with Joel where I was informed “here’s what you’re writing.” Urban Wicca. This will be entertaining, reviled…and worth it. I’ve been increasingly alienated from other neopagans because of what I see as a lot of circular exploration – no one around me really seems to develop, they just loop-de-loop on the same shit over and over again. So now I’m off to commit heresy, just to see if it gooses any forward motion.

The In Plain Sight episode, Don of the Dead, was also highly resonant with me. It used my until-now least favorite character to talk about abandoning dreams and giving up when you realize you’re just not good enough. The end response from the character? “I’m good enough!” This was highly resonant for me.

4. As to my development – exercise and food are very much scarcity/creative block issues for me, and I may need some extra help working them out. I don’t think that traditional diet programs are the way to go; their very psyche offends me because I’m not really seeking acceptance. But along with getting into way more exercise classes (water aerobics, yoga, bellydance, and maybe if I can scrape up the cash, Aikido) I may seek out a counselor with a specialty in eating disorders. My health is not in danger because of my weight, but my weight is a symptom of deep-seated psychological issues and I’d like them resolved, soon. I don’t want to keep carrying the weight of my problems, I’d like to get it down to the weight of my body.

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My artist’s date was a haphazard affair, in part because my plan A, to lay out somewhere and look at clouds, was met with oppressive humidity and an absence of a blanket that I’d be OK throwing on the ground. I love my area parks, but I know what goes on in them: I’m not about to lay on the ground without a blanket.

So, I headed out to Axman after dropping Mike off at the U (I get the car one day a week now, Fridays.) I had loosely intended to get some packaging stuff for my sale and then to go home to check the theater listing and take myself to see a movie, since watching movies alone had been a favorite solo activity of mine for years.¹ Instead, I found myself turning off by the Goodwill on University. As I was parking, I actually heard myself thinking, Hey! I didn’t plan on going here!

Go in, said the Voice.

I entered the store. Go look at the books. I looked in self-help. I half expected to see something by Julia Cameron on the shelves. Surprisingly, I rarely do see The Artist’s Way in used sections. Other books by her, yes, but not that one.

Keep looking. I wandered around the aisle, and finally heard a Stop. Here.

Sitting on the shelf was a book in reference, titled You Should Write a Book.

Don’t buy it! said the voice. You’re probably allergic. Say, didn’t you say you wanted some new clothes?

So now I’m sitting in a pretty blue dress that I bought on clearance, paired with some surprisingly high quality no ride-down underwear.² And I’ve been told by exactly who I most needed to hear it from: I should write a book.

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1. I can watch movies alone but I can’t get myself to go to a bar alone, ever. Not even for the sake of dancing. I have no idea why I’m wired that way. [↩]
2. For all women, this is a find. [↩]

I haven’t been blogging much this week because the exercises involved aren’t exactly out of my way. Most of it involves purging excess or working with what you already have. I’m moving, so guess what I’ve been doing from the get-go? It’s all about visualizing my new space AND moving out as much of my old stuff as possible.

I have been experiencing some odd behaviors and synchronicities that have gotten increasingly strong over the last two weeks. First, is that there are very clearly people that don’t want me doing this. Not a lot of them, but one or two who want to interfere for their own very selfish reasons. Apparently the idea of me at my full creative potential is frightening to the narrow. Good.

But, annoyance and interference aside, the divine has stopped just short of lightning bolts to say “go here” to let me know I’m on the right path and that I should stick with this – and 6 weeks is some pretty serious sticking with, I’m really hoping I do make all 12 weeks because I really, really want to see this through and I was scared that I wouldn’t.

Yesterday’s synchronicity? Joel and I were running to a couple of occult shops in town so I could assemble a few things I needed for my house cleansing/blessing.¹ We saw, on Lake and Grand, an Ecuadorian/Colombian restaurant, and Joel was curious so we agreed we’d have dinner there on the way back from Present Moment. When we came back to the restaurant, we noticed a big sign next door to the restaurant: Botanica.

Once again, Minneapolis has an authentic botanica. Since my early witchcraft practice is founded in folk magic based on brujeria and a love of the Spanish language, this had me over the moon. Every obscura root magic conjuring you could want is there on clean and neatly lined shelves. There were more muerte candles than I thought was strictly necessary, and alas, no traditional house blessing candle, but I’m sure I can work with it. The owner was a bit odd – he’s got to be a mojo man himself, but he acted as though he were terrified of me. I can guess why – Guadalupe-cult brujas have a “take the seed and throw away the packet” attitude towards men and can be scary bitches. Maybe it’s an act to lull me into a sense of security. I plan to spend my money there, be almost bubbly-friendly with my bad Spanish, and otherwise I will not engage. A good magic worker doesn’t, especially ones that sometimes have to do the harsh stuff.

It was a very good day with Joel, although the next time the weather requires all the gorgeous men of Minneapolis to have most of their clothing off, I’m driving.

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1. The guy who lived there before us gives off so much sad sack energy I think it might need a little extra work. [↩]

Julia Cameron was right, this week will be volatile. Not only am I hitting deep psychological issues, there are unforeseen consequences because of the decade plus of magic and energy work. I’m an energy sensitive, and this is really making me do something about that.

The Money Beliefs Exercise

People with money are entitled jerks.
Money makes people complacent.
I’d have more money if I worked a normal job.
My dad thought money was candy.
My mom thought money was everything.
In my family, money caused shame and strife.
Money equals happiness.
If I had money I’d travel.
If I could afford it, I’d do the Master’s Track at the Loft.
If I had some money, I’d take more bellydance and Aikido.
I’m afraid if I had money I’d go on a binge spending spree.
Money is leverage.
Money causes trouble.
Having money is not wrong.
In order to have more money, I’d need to work in a job that would have me.
When I have money I usually pay down debts and buy holiday gifts for my family.
I think money is a troublesome concept.
If I weren’t so cheap, I’d buy big velvet pillows.
People think money is owed to them.
Being broke tells me that I made some bad decisions.

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I’m hoping to be a bit more on-the-ball this week; looking back over last week I had a LOT going on, some of which is directly and indirectly relevant to the work I’m doing here.

Morning Pages
7 out of 7. I agree with the assessment that there is a page and a half truth point – sometimes it happens sooner, sometimes it happens later, but it’s always something I need to talk about with myself. I have, a few times, stopped myself from reaching for the tarot cards while I write them. Tarot has its place in a creative unblocking, but it should be separate from morning pages. Often I find myself getting to the truth of what I need to unleash well before the page and a half mark, and there’s at least twice where my words were literally vibrating on the page. That’s a lot of power I’ve blocked up.

Artist’s Date
Yes, I did my artist’s date, and I’m rather impressed with myself for choosing a concert given my negative feelings about music. It was a very positive experience for me, and it will go a long way with reengaging me with music as a source of enjoyment and not just a magical tool. My experience was wonderful and hit my poetry trigger – when I was in high school, insomnia would cause me to sit up half the night writing poems. Now, it’s much better as it happens when I’m not really trying to sleep. I also need to go out and by the Acoustic Poetry CD, since Szabo won’t use Itunes.

Synchronicity
Yes, plenty, especially during that concert where the old sorceror literally played the rain. There were magical things going on too – I had some energetic weirdness this week that I had to seek help on – but ultimately just a series of small things, details I probably missed.

Recovery
I went in to this whole process not really thinking I was blocked, but I’m realizing that yes, not only was I blocked creatively, that creativity had me blocked on an energetic/magical level too. This past week the unblocking process awoke/unleashed a few unpleasant things, but ultimately, this is still very good for me. I’m working through things I have let sit in my psyche too long – I’m decluttering my inner self the way I’ve spent so much time decluttering my home. There are a lot of things I do right for myself on the surface, but I need to go deeper because I do a lot of things wrong, too, but not out of the “laziness” that I usually attribute it to. I am not a lazy person, and I have trouble with being fearful when I have no more to fear than anyone else in my position. I do believe that there are individuals who would like me to continue to be blocked, and who benefit from the absence of my creativity in the world though I’m not sure how, and in the process of removing my own blocks I am removing blocks placed there by others. The Artist’s Way is a spiritual path, and it’s about combining my will with my god’s.

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My favorite excuse not to create is what I call the “gottas.” I always have a long list of obligations and projects, and in an effort to get out of the “hard” work, I choose the least creative option – data entry, mind numbing coding, adding endless widgets to my blog… and if that doesn’t work, I use “I need to do research!” as an excuse. Especially since I write nonfiction, I must write what I have to say when I know enough – nevermind that especially in the occult (my writing specialty), much as people hate to admit it, on some level we’re still all stumbling around in the dark. ¹ I am very much a process person, and process does help my creativity – but I’m quite squirrelly in finding ways to use it to use the “creative process” to hinder actual creativity.

Also, failing that, I get involved in TV shows. First, TV was restricted when I was growing up. Catching children watching TV automatically translated to “kids must be being lazy” or at least it did with me, and my sister was perpetually glued to MTV, and was extremely ungracious about sharing and on more than one occasion was used as leverage for her bullying. ² This makes TV a scarcity/starvation object for me.

TV has also gotten way, way better than it was when I was growing up – the writing is better, the technical execution is better, and thanks to Joss Whedon people are dropping literary conventions and trite packaging left and right. It’s more fun to watch. This is part of why Mike and I are going to install those foot-pedal exercise thingies in the new place. Easier to instill a good habit than break a bad one.

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1. pun intended [↩]
2. My sister is a better human being now, though I’m always on watch for that other person. [↩]

I gave in to an unusual compulsion to have my Artist’s Date be music-related. Given that music was a source of torture and a huge block to my genuine creative desires, I was surprised at the direction to do so, but beyond pleased with the results. Also, I’m still doing quite well budget wise: so far I’ve had five dates, and the total expense to me has been $3.36. There will be a date at the end of the month that costs $10, but still, in terms of total output? Not bad.

I went to see a performance by Hungarian jazz musician Sandor Szabo who was one of the Communist-era types who decided to create despite a great big cultural thump of a block. I had no idea who he was before arriving at the concert; I assumed that the guy would be some sort of African. Since I’m not a fan of any particular genre of music – it either speaks to me or it doesn’t, though it’s chances of irritating me are better with country – I had no expectations going in.

It was probably the single most amazing concert experience of my life. Clouds were starting to come in as he took the stage, and there were lightning flashes at key points in the music. We finally had to move the concert into the foyer of the Northrup Auditorium – the result was a very intimate, informal concert space. He proceeded to talk about his experiences studying Hungarian shamanism, and played his piece called “Rain.” As he played, the heavens opened up and I could see flashes of magenta lightning twice against the windows of the auditorium; I only wish I’d been quick enough to get a shot of him playing as someone opened the door, his silhouette framed against the rain pouring down outside. It was thunder and lightning at all the right moments in the music – it was as though he were playing the rain.

It was still raining when the concert ended, and I could see that the sidewalk lamps on U of M campus had come on, but they were going out as I walked passed them and the sun reappeared in the sky.

Maybe music has something to say to me after all, as soon as the idiot translator get out of the way.

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Chapter 5 Exercise: If I were 20 and I had money:
Given my cirumstances at 20, I have a pretty good idea what my 20 year old self would have done, much to my family’s chagrin. My parents were proactively out of touch with modern college life, and their values about it crippled me in many ways – I had to skip viable internships, got passed over for promotions, and hordes of issues based on my lack of car and my parents belief that “schoolwork comes first” completely absent of taking who I was or what life was like in the 90s into account. Never have I seen two people so insistent that it was still the 1960s. I’m still working on forgiving them for all the stress they caused me, especially since my career would have worked out much differently if I’d had transport to those internships.

Given that terrifying absence of support, if I had money when I were 20:

College was my big dream, my grand escape from high school, and I loved it. So most of what I would have done would have gone towards developing myself there.

Magical Issues
The Artist’s Way is having a significant impact on me in the magical arena. Along with my first contact with Eros, and his promise of protection, I’ve channeled a spellbook and been quite prone to dreams and visions since beginning this process. Since I’m already trained to let the divine work through me it’s broadening channels, and bringing out things that relate to me as a priestess as well as a creative person. In a way, it’s a review of my training. In a way, it’s an advancement. There are, alas, some crazymaker effects that are directly part of the life I’ve chosen that chose me in return. Eros is protecting my physical well-being – but because this process brings up my vulnerabilities, those vulnerabilities send signals out to the Crazymaker Spirit du jour and somehow I have some damn thing attached to my aura that is throwing off my sense of balance and making me dizzy. I’ve done my medical checks, it’s not that, and I’m pretty sure this was a package addressed to me ¹ I think it is happening for a divine reason: in the occult community, there’s always a certain amount of shame attached to having dumb shit that’s part of being an occultist happen. Curses and attachments are embarrassing things. It says a)you’re crazy and self-important and believing yourself cursed to feel important b)that you’re incompetent because you couldn’t maintain your defenses c)that you’re a drama-queen and ultimately, d)that you’re not to be believed and you shouldn’t believe yourself. Ultimately cursing someone has with it the forecurse of blaming the victim. A lot of these ideas and attitudes were stirred around because there has been a movement within Wicca ever since it became Americanized to convince people Wiccans don’t cast curses, and I would say the bulk of pseudo-Wiccan Pagan types that dabble don’t even know how. The idea was that if you took the technology away, the behavior would stop. There are some glaring holes in this logic, and one of them is currently attached to my neck, much to my serious irritation.

That said, it’s not stopping my life or anything. It’s getting more ritual out of me, which is what the gods want, and it’s becoming clear that it was humans and not them that wanted to suppress my ritual voice. The dizzying pain in the neck is a pretty good metaphor for that, and whoever delivered the package should be deeply, deeply ashamed.

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1. As always, I could be wrong, but my personal practice does not involve doing stuff where this could happen randomly. [↩]

Fellow EGCG member and Artist’s Cluster gal Luscious Naturals stepped up and included my Eros fragrance in a Treasury West.

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