Eat My Way Back To Death...Yoga My Way To Knee Injury

 This eating disorder thing is prevalent so soon after having lost so much, that to have gained so much back again, is a pain I cannot bear any longer. I do not want to eat in quantity, and yet in a state repulsive awareness, I compulsively continue as though possessed. Food is a necessity; and so this is where drug and or alcohol addiction part ways.  But after recently speaking with a 20 year sober AA participant, came to realize that addiction is indeed fucking addiction. Only again, you do not require heroin to sustain life.

I recently start yoga after a long absence. Body and mind has loved me for it, my knee however is not pleased at all. But this was certainly not going to stop me so I got my flexible band/brace out to support the knee and was icing when necessary.

Then yesterday happened. We have very steep stairs to the finished basement and where my room dwells. Going down the steep and narrow stairs my large booted feet stepped down awkwardly but my nifty cat-like reflexes moved into action grapping the railing. I would have fallen a long and hard into the litter box, still I stumbled hard in the knees and now my right knee declares it officially injured. This makes me very fucking irked, reminding me of a pattern that plagues my attempts at psychical exercise beyond walking, which then leads to the rapid cycling of intense moods of all sorts.

Eating disorder 101: knee injury begets binge eating.  The cycle of stress inducing food frenzy is clear, what is not, is a way the fuck out of the pattern. I am not a 12 stepper, I fundamentally disagree with nearly all the steps as I do not believe in giving up power to any one thing. Yes yes yes…I let go and allowed my bipolar to be what it is rather than trying to make it be like everyone else thought it ought to be…something to be controlled. But this is not something I want a part of me, I do not wish it a home within and therefore must be expunged.  This is how my mind functions; get the fuck out since you serve NO purpose!

My eating disorder is learned behavior and therefore I know can be rewired. I have successfully managed this with many other nasty aspects/demons deeply settled in my subconscious; I can kill this off as well. Really this rearing of ugly heads is timely, the shit and muck we wish not to face bubbles up when we are ready, even if we feel otherwise.

This is where I’m at, the in your face ‘deal with it and stop being a pussy’ stage of transforming eating disorder into health consciousness. Take into myself eating mindfully of the global impact of food distribution, not just my impulses towards corn chips. I am what I eat, so I must stay aware of the cells taking up temporary residency in my liver and other organs. I must alter my relationship with food. Right now I am wounding myself to new self-destructive glorious heights because…fuck I don’t know, a plethora of reasons I’m sure.

What I can assert…Namaste Fucking Eating Disorder…you are SO fucking out of here!!

Blood Moon Magic Makes For A Bloody Burning

 Blood Moon Altar

Blood spilled, dragons blood burned, cords affixed, songs sung, dances danced. All alone with me, myself and I…we merried our way to wholeness. 

Last night was a magical bursting long in the making. Looking long into my past has always been a peeling back of scabs long to heal but never quite getting the care required. I have healed a bit here and there, but with a pinpoint in my map of life that’s been denied attention.

Mother.

The wounding of my mother is a sticky tricky thing that is so pervasive that it easy to get lost in the history of it. So with the help of a friend I found the answer in the reduced to the simplest of magics by the cutting of cords. I am cutting the cord of attachment to my mother. When I say this, I do not mean I’m cutting her away because I find that a dangerous and uncomfortable thing. She is my adopted mother to be sure, there is someone out there (maybe) who gave me birth, but she is not the one who so poorly raised me. So I see no way out of this simple fact, she is my mother.

Cord magic is very powerful, but one must be careful not to cause harm. You have to be clear that you are cutting away the past, not the now. The now is still forming so it an unwise act to sever what is unformed. At least this is true of parents, children, and the like. Boyfriends/girlfriends of destructive forces must be cut away in a complete and utter fashion. You have no need to keep threads of energy  between you.

So be careful how you cut the cords, threads, and even whisper like connections. The lite ones are easy and may not require actual cords worn to be cut at the moment determined. But threads to ones that do not serve our greater good may require this commitment. Wearing the cords, or in my case twine, is a commitment that creates a reminder of the work you have commenced. You must know when you literally cut the cord at the predetermined time , that this connection will be no more.

More on cords; they can be used for you to cut away a habit long learned or a recorded message running over and over again in your mind, most likely given by parents trying their best, but ending up causing a corded connection of malcontent that follows long into adulthood.

The whole point of this type of spell/magic is to set yourself free from what feels like a itch on the brain, that one you cannot scratch. But you can exorcise it. You have the tool to do so. So use it at will.

Also, be honest when pouring your intent into the cord; make sure you are clear about your part in the creation of the situation that is being let go. You want to know it’s there for you to pay attention to. I wear mine on my wrist where it is an often reminder of the work I’m conjuring. When I get to them  to cut it off, I will feel the literal release. It will become a burden to bear, one that must become an annoyance to the level where you cannot wait to be free of it. 

I believe that covers cord magic. 101 level at the very least. I hope someone reads this, works the spell, and releases themselves from some misaligned connection.  That would make me very happy and surge power into my works as well.

Sharing is caring, especially if it’s a bloody ritual born from pain endured, but liberated in love for you.  So pass it on….

Rainbow around last nights Blood Moon

Fuck The Divine Feminine, The Divine Masculine Is Bleeding Out On Our Fucking Stilettos.

Attempts at writing today are futile as I took many drugs to rid me of a migraine. Which has work moderately but it has rendered me dull and boring. Still I have thoughts on how we should be focusing on the Divine Masculine as that energy force is all fucked up and in deep need of healing.

In my opinion, this is the core and if we can heal the masculine energy...then we can come cycle back into a place of equality, but as long as there be battle, there be casualties. I would like to see in my lifetime a transformation of all human beings into a state of respect, honor, and love.

Yes, I love the honor code of the warrior and well, we women have need to engage and embrace our male. Denying is as futile as my creativity today. The point is that men need to embrace their feminine and women need to embrace their masculine. Then we get that neato yin/yang thing going on.

Oh and don't go thinking it is the male that is darkness, oh no. Any pagan will tell you that when you light candles to represent the God and the Goddess, it is black for the girls and white for the boys. We women are of the dark womb, we understand death as we have the power to give birth to it. But we need be fertilized, now don't we? that is why God is light, he is life. He is the Sun and we are the Moon. This is a global knowing that most just don't want to see.

But it is time. If truly a healer, then you must understand the value of healing men. We are all human animals in need of healing/balancing and I look forward to having relations with a man on that level.

No matter what, know that the Divine Masculine is indeed bleeding out and we need to triage that shit! We were the funerary priestesses that washed the bodies of the dead in preparation of the pire. Men walked away as they could not face their fallen. We anointed the bodies as we would our freshly born babes. We understand the cycle of life, death, and rebirth in ways men do not, so why not show them? As we are upon a double edged sword, why not let go into our warrior spirit allowing us to forge forward...together.

Ok well I am not going to edit this, it is what it is. My brain is that of pudding (chocolate if you were wondering) and so thoughts expressed are either profound, or likely gibberish. You decide.