Colour Matters

One of the main characteristics of immature judgement is black-and-white, good-versus-evil thinking, but it's not really something that should be punished, despised or shunned. It's a sprout of something important. It's the first sign of a willingness to understand, and certainly a connection.

Obviously black-and-white thinking is not restricted to youth or ignorance. At any stage in our lives, when we are caught amidst the flames of drama or led by those who are, we all tend to throw around harsh judgements and to miss important, invisible details that are also crucial for actual comprehension. Some actually do that even when they aren't, but that's not something we can avoid.

After this weekend's "meditation" retreat (which was little more than another typically Spanish, dog-crowded fiasco/nightmare), I decide to let go of limited visions and mean-spiritedness to embrace all colours, even those I cannot see. Since I want a richer life, I choose to embrace, not cut the world in half.

But I'll never again be fooled by Disneyland dreams this side of the Pyrenees, anyway.

Image: Kristin Miller's "Spiral Heart" quilt.

Stag Party

Tomorrow morning I'm off to the mountains with my gay men's meditation group for a short retreat until Sunday. I'm really thankful and definetely looking forward to this chance to chill down, disconnect from the drama, reconnect with the Source and revitalise before the wedding.

Qirin image from Ahyicodae.com

Equinox

Autumn blessings to all my friends and readers. May you grow in gratitude for all the love, joy and abundance around us on this beautiful day.

May dignity bless and shine on your releases, and may you find Deep Peace in all you are surrendering to the Ebbing Tides.

We are well on the Good Red Road.

Old Ghost

In less than ten days I'll be a married man, and, truth be told, there is a reason loneliness, isolation and forsakenness have been a recurring theme in my blog lately. This is an issue that's become prominent in my life all of a sudden, and I've been doing my best to avoid it. Silly me.

I have never been able to talk to any of my old people. My father, poor old man, is a plain loser in life. Spent many nights of his adult and elderly years and much of his physical health playing cards with Rotarians and Freemasons, but was never invited into their closed spaces and feast in the top of the social Pyramid. His only advice to me ever was, "nobody needs you, and you need these people who make you feel so miserable". In these exact words, albeit in Portuguese, repeated over and over again, even when it didn't apply. My mother has always had the maturity of Paris Hilton's chihuahua, and anything I let slip to her, she'd spread around the very toxic neighbourhood we used to live in, and in three days, my life was nightmare. Once, I was living on my own for a few months and I made the mistake of letting her know over the phone that I had got a cold. She immediately air-mailed to me a list of blood tests her gynecologist prescribed to me, and I had four bottles of blood drawn from me early in the morning, with nothing in my stomach and a heavy headache. Because I had a cold and was in perfect health, my body naturally raised the defenses. The following week, the news in Rio were that I had Leukemia. No wonder my social life has always been one nightmare after another, and lately, the ultimate challenge for me.

We all know how the story goes, and here is how the story went: I got engaged to a guy who's been trying to change me from day one I stepped into HIS country, HIS house, HIS social circle, HIS life, all to fit HIS tastes. And then he convinces me I'm too arrogant to admit I'm wrong. I've given up everything I could afford to give up already, and I'm fine with it, but I really couldn't get back to eating meat again, and now he's determined to make me feel miserable, really miserable, and of course guilty, too, everytime we go out and there's anything food ever mentioned.

His evolution has been very positive, very impressive and very welcome. I'm thankful that now he doesn't make a scene when I want to caress him during the day anymore. But I can't help feeling stifled sometimes, when I tell him, for instance, that I am hungry, and he with a flicker and a flash and a heavy whiff of ash suddenly thrusts, shrouded in the smoke he keeps making: "You see, if you were more flexible..." And then he talks about Morocco and some other muslim, homophobic shithole I don't have the money, the papers or the wits to visit anytime soon.

I swear I only went to the meeting with his gang tonight because I was too lonely here in the flat, and none of the new friends I've made here was available for a walk or something. And my webfriends weren't online to talk to me.

In moments like these, unresolved ghosts from the past resurface. And I'm exhausted of dealing with them all by myself by now. I know it was a stupid move to quit the gay therapy group since they came back from the Summer, but I need to cull the projects that currently cost money, and that was the next in the list of nice-with-a-price. But I need to address this issue. I need to fix myself and be able to actually have a social life outside the Internet.

Image: "Loneliness 7", by Karol Petres.

Flying Birds

The current spiritual bliss I'm experiencing with all the stuff I've been blogging about lately (and then some) apparently doesn't come without a price. I want to grieve a little bit here about the recent minor withering of the Lavender Society for Alternative Sexuality Heroes.

In January, I very naïvely started a beautiful project on one of these game-applications Facebook has. The game was basically a race for hero levels and new hero superpowers, and then using our abilities on each other. In the very beginning of the enormous, fast-growing community around the hero game that was multiplying by the hour, we became one of the pioneer groups, and by far the largest sexuality-related group on the game sub-culture.

Quickly, we got to feature over one thousand very active and very vocal members. Many of them I considered great friends. We became a very important part of each other's lives in the blink of an eye. Together, we managed to take the Lavender Society to Top Eight hero groups (within a universe of tens of thousands of groups) in no time, always faithful to a spirit of camaderie, fun and radical anarchism.

Then in July, after months and months dedicated full-time (about nine hours a day) to making the game environment a more interesting, healthier and richer experience, Facebook deleted my account overnight, and never replied to any of my (very, very polite, given the circumstances) emails, never giving me a reason for that. I was desolated, and decided I deserved some time off, to recover from the blow.

Slowly but still suddenly, a considerable number of our heroes started to jump ship. I understand desertions happen all the time, as they had certainly happened before, and I had no means and no intention to avoid them, but having people leave so incessantly felt a bit like betrayal.

In the heat of the debate, new members became very vocal in a way they initially didn't have the right to. But, true to my anarchist priciples, I gave them that right, so they used it to create an anti-Awen club, specializing in distorting my words and questioning an authority I never really exercised. And now, slowly, most high-level heroes of the Lavender Society are leaving.

If I still had my old Elvenking account, I could restore the Lavender Society to its former glory quick and easy. But because I feel very leery with Facebook these days, and because I know there is malicious propaganda going on under the table, I don't have the heart to get my hands dirty with more shit right now, while I'm harvesting many spiritual blessings. So I've decided to let it all go.

I have no idea how many friends I will have left from the Lavender Society in a few months from now. I know I did make a few good friends there that won't ditch me, or us as a group. But I know that you've got to let go of a bird, let it fly away and check if it will return to you in order to be sure you were meant to be together. Since most of these strayaways aren't probably coming back this time around, they've never been my friend anyway.

So, I move on with my training, my projects and my own life. I really need to compensate for the many months lost investing so irrationally in a Facebook game.

This probably teaches me an important lesson, though, given that it's happening in tandem with Tribe.net's recent major crisis. We are given gifts by pioneers and community leaders. They haven't let us down out of negligency, and it doesn't feel right to turn your back to someone who opened you their door. True bonds and societies, hero or human, are built with tolerance, high times, low times, time on, time off and even time-outs, but definetely not flying by from tree to tree. Time Manipulation and Teleportation at least taught me that.

You are all free to fly, and I am proud that for a many months I managed to create a beautiful community and prove once that gays, lesbians and bisexuals aren't a minority.
And one more thing: the Lavender Society is still standing.

Image: our logo, by Andy Nguyen.

Okay, really,

I love music, and I was actually very much meant for it.

Clarity

I do turn off the lights to sleep, but I sure thing hate the Dark when I'm in the pink. I know I'm not Miss Dharma yet, but I've been managing to stick to my New Year Resolution of helping my inner waters run clearer, still and, therefore, deep.

First, there's Dr. Overtone's aid. I've always guessed I was missing an important part of life due to my numbed ear and rough musicality, but now that I've been guided a bit further into the heart of the Sound and Silence Mysteries, I realise how many lives I have been missing. There is a common feature among zen masters, jedis, and soul musicians. When you let the Dual Lord (Sound and Silence) master you, you master yourself. And you float in nirvanic bliss more and more often.

The Light that began shining in that part of my head has been grounding, centering and connecting me to the Now-Here. That's the most empowering experience, really, and I don't think there's another way to live life more intensely. The hot-air balloon-head mode had been on for too long lately, and I'm glad Spirit found a very organic and rewarding way to help me realign with Life.

On Thursday, I had a talk with my vocal coach. I know that I shouldn't begin talkings with people lately, that I'm much better off just savouring the moment, the activities, the opportunities and the silent company, so I can hear the Truth more clearly. But I let it slip that I was proud of my headway over the past 11 months working with her.

From there the conversation spiralled down. Maybe it's just my defensiveness making me hallucinate in paranoia, but she did repeat that she doesn't see me singing other than as a hobby and for her, only. Naturally, she doesn't have to see me singing to a large audience, because I can do it myself and it's probably my own job anyway, but I've been letting that interefere with my practice at home.

I know I'm very tender with this subject, but I've invested so much in this and I haven't really got another solution for my life other than making it happen. And I know if I make a "B plan", the "B plan" will work, but my dream will not be fulfilled. That's what B plans are for, anyway. So, I turned to the Faeries' Oracle to see what They had to say: basically, it's a path that requires patience, a lot of energy and commitment, and that if I release my need to use other people's "help" and well-meaning opinions, I will be transformed to go on.

Pretty obvious when I hear it from Their mouths/cards.

Actually, I've been consulting with Them quite a lot lately. I've began reading Brian's cards regularly to check what the next step in overcoming my stuttering is. Yes, now that I'm on a nice upswing with German, too anxious to overfocus on Music and feeling like it's time to ride the White Swan to new grounds, I've been inspired to take action and overcome my stuttering for good. Doctors said many times over they couldn't help me, so I'd better check with the Otherworld, as it hasn't let me down in all these years.

It all began with two Singers of the Realms holding keys. One holding the key to myself, the Singer of Courage, and the other holding the key to the issue, stuttering, the Singer of Intuition. Aiding the Singer of Intuition is the playful Mikle à Muckle. I like spotting the main Faeries in each reading and journeying to the Otherworld to meet them live and get direct guidance. The Singer of Intuition, from inside the cave full of bats where It lives, taught me some in an extremely quiet voice and very few words. Where Intuition speaks from, It has to speak low and little, so as to not disturb the bats in their sleep. The Singer of Courage trains warriors, mages and champions regularly, and gave me some training, too.

So, today I've checked in again to find out what the next step would be. The rainbow faery Iris and her amphibian, archer, and gnome helpers promised me the song of three other Singers in my Quest after I fool another storm. First, the Frog Queen advises a sense of adventure and a spirit of exploration to take me out from the toads' pool to the sunlight the Guardian at the Gate is inviting me to see on the Otherside and, to quote Lady Macbeth the author of the textbook, "discover if we are still frogs or if we have become something much more." The next Singer is the Singer of Transfiguration, which will be revealed by Death. Makes sense that the amphibian has to die for "something much more" to take its place. Especially if it's a something-much-more with a fluid talking. After that, my Faery Guide bridges the Singer of Healing and me. When all is done, the Rainbow will shine in the sky, and yeah, I will overcome stuttering.

Really, if I'm deceiving myself with all the ends meeting so magically and for the first time ever experiencing complete Harmony (musically, metaphorically and otherwise), I don't want to switch back to stuck-in-the-mud mode. I prefer the Rainbow's clarity.

I belong to the Light.

Image by Megumis-Chan.

Hedgecraft

Being a solitary in the Craft, even and especially if temporary, is an opportunity to filter, summarize, potentialize and run all the lore you've garnered through the test of time. Currently, I'm living the consequences of my decisions over the past years that led me from being a very active public witch to a kitchen magician, journaling regularly and exploring rabbit's holes mostly by himself--though I'll admit having confidants and lurking in a few Internet discussion groups just to keep me grounded in the social experience. Maybe it shouldn't be surprising that my blog, once avidly read and commented on by a considerable number of people, is now written for very few, very faithful visitors.

The withdrawal from a very positively and affirmatively responding community was so hard a strike that it blinded me for many months, and now I begin to see clearly my possibilities and open doors. And, instead of lassoing fluttering lore from the other side of this world and dragging it down to where it just might not belong to, I'm consolidating my personal lore and bringing together my magical tools and tricks. And in the process, bringing together this world and Faery, too.

I'm slowly but steadily incorporating all the intense creative explorations and artistic trainings of these Golden (past three) Years to the very pre-basic stuff: grounding, centering, connecting with the Bird Spirit. Stuff almost all witches I have met live or over the Web never really understood. Earthed, I let the seeds grow free and with dignity. Anchored in my Center, I let the whirlwind draw near what is rightfully part of my Truth, and sweep away what is meant to go. Connected, I listen more to Divine Guidance than bickerings and ill feelings, and journal what needs to be recorded with more intelligence.

Every now and then, though, the bad gremlin still sticks its head out of its lonesome warren and torments me with all the lies they fed me together with drugs when I was a kid. This is my current challenge: let go of my attachment to this shit. I am not isolating myself from the world, I am not drowning in Fantasy. I am not ruining my life. I am building a new, much more dignified one. I am diving in the Mystery of the Self. In my own way.

Image: "Solitude", unknown artist but found on Unicornlady.net.

Breath

Art-as-Spirituality geeks like myself know that it's all in the frame. From your birth to the last whisper, the frame around your time here on Earth is Breath. Breathing is grounding, centering, fixing up and then some. In dis-ease, food, rest, water and love exchange definetely help, but without connecting with Breath, you cannot reconnect with the Body Temple and get everything back in Order.

In my current singing and dancing sessions with the Faeries, I'm discovering the powerful magic that awareness of Breath ignites. Faeriesongs firstly bloom with the whispering of exhalation and the cantus firmus of Faeriedance is the movement of the Breath, connecting pelvis and heart. From the diaphragm and all its associated sways, swells, swallows and squeezes, all other movements and sounds arise, changing the environment at once.

We've all heard that five minutes a day paying attention to our breath will heal us and change our life over time. Letting breath sing and move you will change you and your environment instantly.

Faery Guide

I went ahead and, riding the energies of last month's Blue Moon and Lunar Eclypse, bought Brian Froud's Faeries' Oracle. Faeries had been calling to me a lot since the Solstice in many different ways and languages. Even though I can possibly be accused of some sins in this life, I certainly have never turned a deaf ear to Otherworld callings. I just can't.

Today, I've painted with oil pastels card 0, the Faery Guide. That card comes blank, because it's yours to portray whoever takes you "beyond the fields we know", thus making the deck your own. No need to go through an elaborate ritual or "blood the Runes". With creativity, art and courage to stain the impersonal whiteness of the virgin card with your personal lore, you make the whole set your spiritual ally forevermore. I gotta say, I love this idea!

My Faery Guide has been clear for me for some years now, so when I opened the package and found the blank card numbered zero, I knew it had to be It. But just for double checking, I slept my Faeriesleep, and journeyed to the Otherworld to meet It live again. The White Swan took me on Its back, dove with me under the Waters, flew me up to the Stars and toured me through Its many, multiversal tales of inner truth, long wayfares and crossed roads. I came back more than reassured. For my first experience ever with oil pastels, and without any previous training or information whatsoever, I think I did a pretty cool job and uncovered more personal power.

The book, written by Jesa Macbeth, is a joy in itself. Very beginner-friendly, but totally focused on the work with these cards, it brought me the answers to many questions I'd never been able to even formulate in my head. She teaches, among other fun, joyful tricks, a very special way of singing and dancing to awaken and stir the energies and magical currents of Faery wherever you are. Today, in the middle of my Faeriedance, the whole thing became so ecstatic I had to interrupt. But I'll be back tomorrow, and things are bound to become outrageously interesting as I let go of fear and control.

Double checking is fine, though, if only as an excuse for listening to stories and a vivid trip over the three worlds.



Image: The Singer of the Chalice. The most generous and powerfully revealing card/Being in the whole deck. And the first one I picked, too.