The wind is howling outside my windows, as it rattles the boxes meant to block it from the lower portions of my deck. It seems friece and angry trying to wedge its way into my warm abode. Two Pigeons have taken refugee on the upper wall between my deck and the next, the huddle together the larger one blocking the worse the wind is offering from the smaller. I normally do not like pigeons, and would chase them off, but the wind sounds cruel enough, and my heart knows that there is no need to begrudge them the small refugee they seek. I set a bit of pizza crust out on the deck for them, along with the Oatmeal offering intended for the spirits passing by. The noises are worsening the boxes that keep my dear feline companion in the safety of my territory are also beginning to budge. I will need to batten down the hatches for winter soon, perhaps even putting plastic over offending windows if this is where the cold wind likes to blow from. The warning signs are in the air and I taste them too, as I seek comfort in warm spiced and sweetened milk, and feel the urge to seek out rum, and whiskey for the cupboard. Of course the cupboard is not as full as one would like for this time of year. I have much to do, though I am not sure exactly what I need. I must give up the faint hope of never-ending summer, not in this world at least. I am going to need a can opener now. Thump Thump Thump. The Wind still knocks wanting to come in sweep me away and chill my bones, leaving an empty shell to walk through the darkness. I will not permit it in. Its place is outside, as mine is here in warm slippers, and blankets, with a warm cup and warm heart. A little love, is left with gruel as you pass along your way Wild Wintery Winds. Bid you enjoy it, and it warm you some while you set the tomes of your journey to a rest.

Fall has arrived and as the blazing glory of autumn colours sparks across the background of my life, I am forced to pause and reflect at the meaning of the longer slumbering sun, and the chill that touches the morning, with a slick coating of frosting, that isnt sweet to the lips. It is my first Autumn in Ottawa, and it has been so long since more then Yellow Poplar leaves, dominated the skyline for me. Even the Ash, is yellow, but here Maple and various vines bring scarlets and reds, and oranges to not only the trees, but scatter the ground in a flaming carpet of patterns.

I have been thinking lately about coming out of the Broom Closet, stories. I wonder if there is a large mythos of dangers of coming out of the broom closet that instills an extra level of fear that is not necessarily there. My own coming out story, is basically non-existant, at least to my immediate family. They have been there while I walked my journey since I was 12, and supportive of my endeavours in the community including running Pagan Pride Day. I never had a great anxiety over revealing my beliefs, then again I never ran around broadcasting them either. When asked I answered but generally it was a non-topic. Except with my grandmother who asked for my Bible once so she could see what I believed, and I found a basic Principles of Wicca by Vivane Crowley, which se still hasnt read. When I was about 18 and started interacting with the local Pagan community I liked to call my approach to the Broom Closet questions was that "the door was open, but there wasnt a parade" or something like that. 

I think people really do know the general reaction the people close to them will have. There are those selected people in your life that you know will not respond in a supportive or at least open minded manner to discovering your spiritual beliefs, everyone has them at one time or another. I worry that the extra anxiety that seems to sit in the air above the Broom Closet discussion can cloud peoples judgement, and perhaps helps promote a state of fear when approaching the subject with those close to us.  If one can seperate themselves from the horror stories, and actually look at each situation as it comes, with a calmed and reason mind, I trust that they will be able to figure out when and where to speak up. 

I suppose maybe I am thinking of the underlying effect of thinking it should be a big issue, when in my experince more and more when you tell people your pagan it generally isnt. Then again I dont go around with a megaphone announcing it, and generally only let people know once I get to know them. 

Of course then you get the secondary problem of people who know or think they do making announcements, and such. I generally brush it off as a non-issue. That way if someone else decides to make an issue of my beliefs it generally is well there issue. Of course I will be truthfull and honest within their ability to understand or grasp while trying to diffuse any tensions, but generally I havent had a problem.

Perhaps I have been blessed by living in this oblivious state where everyone is equal human beings, and should be respected for there inherent worth as humanbeings. I admit I am one of those blind white chicks who doesnt understand alot of prejedice because I have not experinced it. Personally I hope that someday everyone could be as blissfully unaware, due to the fact that it just doesnt happen. Of course it does happen and I try to make myself more aware of the inequalities of the world, and perhaps do something about them. Of course I am not going to say I do while I sit here fully fed, typing on a computer in a comfy bed, and complain about having to clean my own room. I am limited in my ability to understand and I acknowledge it. It doesnt mean I ignore the issue, but it also doesnt mean I pretend I know what it is like either. 

I just like to imagine a world where the policy "as long as it aint hurting no one" is actually true. Then again how much pain does my cellphone, laptop and other gadgets cause to Silverback Gorillias and local peoples who live where the reasources for them are taken from the earth, or even those who work the scrap heeps of the 2 year old versions that just do not work anymore. 

How is it possible to live a life without hurting anyone? Is it possible? If not, then how should one minimize harm? Is it a matter of awareness? If I am aware of the harm I cause, then am I culpable to it? What if I am not aware? Should I fight through the data mines of the modern world, and its distance from raw to finnished product to become aware? Should I feel guilty for everything and privlidge I have? 

I do not think that living in a woe how horrible I am for existing really helps with the initial attempt to live a life without hurting anyone, since your still hurting others, and are now also hurting yourself. Of course turning a blind eye is not an option either. Devoting you whole life to fighting injusutice, well, not everyone can walk that demanding path, and I honour those who do. But how am I suppose to approach this question? 

Hmmm...

In Google, type your name followed by the word indicated in quotations. Record the first result that forms a complete sentence.

1. Type in "[your name] needs"
Needs guy advice!

2. Type in "[your name] looks like"
Looks like a Total Hooker.

3. Type in "[your name] does"
Does every morning

4. Type in "[your name] hates"
Hates Roaches

5. Type in "[your name] goes to"
Goes Mad!!

6. Type in "[your name] loves"
Love's Wednesday

7. Type in "[your name] eats"
Eats people in sandwiches

8. Type in "[your name] has"
Has passed

9. Type in "[your name] died"
Died of starvation

10. Type in "[your name] will"
Will be visiting various schools periodically

11. Type in "[your name] never"
Never knew that actually happened

12. Type in "[your name] always"
Always wanted to race ride despite her father's very best efforts

 So I am putting on my to do list to learn more of Conn of the Hundred Battles (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conn_of_the_Hundred_Battles) because according to Clann Donald history I am decended from him. Of course the exact tree isnt spilled out on the Internet the Tree is done well enough to trace back to those who claim descent. Of course who doesnt want to claim descent from a High King of Ireland? Total ego breath, then again it isnt impossible either, but considering the massive amount of people that share my descent doesnt make me paticularily individually special, I can count 21 cousins alone, then extend that out to the average 10 kids going up the line, definately awsome amounts of descendents. So in wanting to learn more about my heritage I am taking an intrest in both Clann history as well as the legends farther back in that history.  So, this High King of Ireland has been added to my list... but again the ego goes "How cool is that?"  

But if I evern mention it as more then an odd fact, or claim any kind of crazy authority due to it, please grab the largest thickest book and wack me silly, thanks. 

Sleep and I have one of those beuatifully complicated love hate relationships. In winter I want to hibernate the entire season away, but besides that desire I find myself more wakefull at night, and drowsy throughout the day. I have done almost everything to fix this problem, I have spent 36 hours straight to force myself to sleep at night. Slept for 36 hours to wake up and be rested to stay up during the day and go to bed at a reasonable hours. Along with various less drastic versions of sleep altering. Currently though an odd thing has happened I am going to sleep at about 3:30 - 4:00pm, getting up around 8pm for feeding, and then returning to sleep shortly after, and sleeping until 3am. It is a sharp change to my previous schedual that saw me finally falling asleep at 3 am and sleeping until 3:30-4pm. I have managed to switch my sleep cycle and I am not sure it is any better. I much perfer being a night owl to this morning thing. Since I still feel the groggy mornng not quite awake feeling pretty much the whole time I am awake now. Instead of the eventual feeling of actually being awake and motivated which I used to feel in my late night shenaegins. 

The Ocean hands down, it calls to me despite the land lock nature of Calgary, and I dream of it regularly. The mountains are nice enough and have there place but nothing beats the good old Atlantic.