Loki’s Kids: Some hard truths

My ordeal master is a self-described Loki’s Monster; I have, in the course of ordeal, put my life in his hands, because there are few other people I would trust in such a situation. There is a reason for this; the article posted here is a very good description of why.

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Loki sons

“Everyone knows that Loki is the bringer of discord, that his followers are all damaged people who disrupt the community”

You know, as we grow up, we all hear and accept certain truths from our community, and that is fine. What is not fine is when we never question how far the “truth” we accept differs from the experiences we have, and the people we actually know.

“We are our deeds”

This is another of those truths we all accept, and if this latter one is true, then I am the bearer of bad news, the harbinger of woeful tidings. Loki’s kids have earned an esteem far higher in our eyes by their deeds than we have ever allowed them, and we are DEEPLY shamed by our conduct towards them in return.

I have heard “Loki killed Baldur” as the trump card about as often as “Jews killed Jesus” and…

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Hindsight.

Hindsight is a funny thing.

Now is a period of nostalgia, and of late I’ve found myself thinking of things past. Two, in particular.

One is the view of a pair of friends, once married, now not. Looking back, I see the patterns. I see, from early on, one’s temper, the other’s pacification. I see actions that, at the time, made no sense, but now do. I see the split of interests, so much so that even at their celebrations, the pictures show them further and further apart. I see my own trepidation over now-moot intentions and plans, even though initially and outwardly I was excited. I see a smile that I thought was forgotten as the darkness is addressed, and I see darkness being brooded over. And I wonder if I should have, could have said anything. (Other than, “Is everything okay?” however, no – my view was almost entirely external, which means that I really had no way to know for sure what was happening on the inside. There is nothing I could have said or done, nor was it my place to do so.)

The other is, quite understandably, our youngest son. He is now living in the woods, sort of, although we believe he’s spending more time with friends than anything. I wonder, looking back, if there’s anything we could have done to stop this path in its tracks. I wonder if, in our fear of forcing him into things the way his biological mother did, we did him a disservice. And although my logical side reminds me that he chose this path, that he is an adult now, that he must make his own way and heal (hopefully) under his own power, there is an angry side screaming for his brain to wake up, dammit, and a disappointed mother now doubting the past eight years of parenting.

It is the Shadow time. It is Nostalgia time. It is the time to Work through these thoughts and these doubts, and to nest in our new little hideaway.

Random bits.

The whirlwind continues, although it’s finally starting to even out. A few bits and pieces have come up this past month. These are just random thoughts, not necessarily related.

– My Kit is out of the state at the moment, working for the next three weeks with his old employer. His first day, yesterday, was 17 hours long. I haven’t been able to talk to him much, but if the next three weeks go like yesterday did, we’ll have a nice little cushion and start to the down payment on the house.

– Sir passed on Saturday. There is a hum, a buzz where His voice normally is. Usually it’s completely silent. In the days before Samhain, He was particularly talkative, especially as I led a chant during a ritual on the 30th. (I can’t tell you how nervous I was.)

– The Folk around our new home have raised their little heads, especially as much fog as there has been the past few weeks. They’re curious about me. This morning they tried to be tricksy in my head and I was having none of it. Mother Danu made motion too; they quieted down after that (with some giggling). Their House will be one of the things I pick up from J’s house this week.

– I am going through the next three weeks without my partner or my Lover. Friends are popping up with invitations for dinner and offers to come by, because I do tend to become a hermit by myself. Meanwhile, I’m channeling some of the lonely restlessness. I started the first part of the garden I’ve been planning – the compost basket for the center – and have gotten a few things organized around the house. I have plans to make some freezer meals this week – cook a dinner meant for six, eat a portion, pack a portion for lunch, freeze the rest. There are still boxes to move from J’s place, which I’m working on this week, and so many things to unpack.

– I’ll be at Festival of Light in Berkeley Springs in a week and a half, with our partner D to help me at the table (because she’s awesome), and I have my very first presentation on the Kabyle that weekend. Plus readings. Plus stock. And I have to finish a set of Stones and order a couple of fresh copies of the books.

– The cats keep crawling all over me at night, because Daddy isn’t home and Daddy’s girl wants love. I adore them both, but I wouldn’t mind a full night’s sleep, especially since I’m now getting up at 5:30 or earlier to get to work on time. 🙂

Ye Gods, everything is exploding.

Since June, the world’s gone crazy.

The youngest got his butt kicked out. He’s living with his grandparents for now, but without any forward momentum.

Kit went to Texas for a week to see his uncle, who is only 10 years his senior and dying of cancer.

We tried to apply for disability for Kit. Denied (not unexpected; still frustrating).

We tried to buy a house, because we can’t stay where we are. Loan denied, because OMD WEIRD ZONING and OMD what do you mean you’re buying a 1 bedroom, 1 bath because we can’t sell that back when you’re done with the house? (We’ll be done with the house when we’re DEAD, just stick a gravestone on it for fuck’s sake.)

We had two shows go by, have another in a week, another in October, and maybe another in November. MUST MAKE ALL THE THINGS.

We are now renting said house, and moving in LESS THAN TWO WEEKS.

It is also currently Ganeshotsav, for which I was not at all prepared, so I threw up my hands, said “Fuck the non-meat tradition for the second year in a row,” and decided to do devotionals on Facebook instead because THE WORLD IS FALLING AROUND MY DAMN HEAD.

Geebas. Fucktards. Spin me right round.

On the flip side, though, the youngest’s older brothers have taken it upon themselves to put some fire under him (may help, may not, but is mildly amusing to watch, knowing our boys). Sir got some good time in with me while Kit was in Texas. Kit got a call from his former boss, which may end up with job-type stuff, which would add a little money to the pot and give him a better barometer of whether his body will withstand a workday. The Realtor we worked with owns the house we’re renting, and is happy to have us and infinitely patient. One show was delightful; the other was AMAZING, and the others promise to also be fabulous. And Cousin Ganesha is not complaining – indeed, He’s been ever so graciously rerouting all the slammed doors into other opportunities. Sir also made damn sure I knew that He is proud of me, because the Kahina Stones are truly done and ready – I’ve sold three sets this year (two commission, one cold).

And our friends. OUR FRIENDS. They have been the best of late.

So the world will stop spinning at some point; I will breathe; W/we will settle.

Jai Ganesha!

Predator/Prey

**It’s taken me a long time to get through this one – life continues to not slow down. But it’s important that I finish.**

Sir likes to give me His horns.

There are a couple of reasons why He does that. Sometimes, if He needs me to say something on His behalf, I get His horns as both encouragement (“Yes, you’re hearing Me correctly”) and demand (“Yes, you have to say it, I don’t care if it sucks”). He’ll give His horns on particularly interesting nights – particularly gorgeous full moons, certain holidays, certain moments in a day – to remind me of the wildness and wonder.

Most wicked of all is when He is feeling frisky and decides that I need to have some fun on His behalf.

Our annual Beltane festival was, for the most part, quiet. I was working on staff again this year, and when I wasn’t on duty I was either cooking, hanging out with friends I don’t see often enough, Working as ground crew, or generally lounging. Our last night there, Kit was kidnapped by our Sunshine (a dear friend whom he started dating last summer) for some private time before his late shift, and Sir swooped in.

I was already planning to go to the dungeon space, where I tend to hang out during evenings at the festival, and this night I asked, “How shall I dress?”

Self-care.

The night was chilly, so on went the sweats and layers.

Pack a bag.

Um… okay.

He was specific. And while I didn’t end up using much in the bag, there was a reason. See, there are a lot of toys that Kit and I share as Tops. There are not a lot of toys that I would allow to be used on me as a bottom. Nearly everything He told me to pack was something I would use as a Top.

If that doesn’t get me into a specific headspace, I’m not sure what would.

So I meander up to the nearest taxi stand, call for a taxi, and watch the small ritual across from me as I’m waiting. Among the participants is my friend E (the same who helped with my Ordeal).

That’s about when the horns started pricking at my head.

Here comes the taxi. Up I go to the dungeon and just kind of sit and watch. I have a carbon fiber rod in hand and I’m kind of messing about with it absentmindedly. E comes up later and has a scene with one of his usual play partners. Hot.

Hello again, horns.

Maybe an hour later, E comes back to the dungeon to say hi. He’s still floaty.

Aaaaaand I kinda sorta seriously pounced.

He’s such lovely prey.

He said a couple of very apt things during this little pickup scene. (Haha, my friend B would say – she was sitting right there, I didn’t “kinda sorta” anything, according to her.)

“Part of you is hungry.”

Perhaps just a bit. Oh hi there, libido, where have you been?

 

“You’re hunting.”

Well, yes. Because it was the day after Beltane, Sir wanted some fun, and E is someone I trust who enjoys the kind of thing Sir was looking to do.

Let me tell you, the week after this? I was a very happy little bird and Kit was a very happy husband. 😛

The larger thing on this, though, is that this is the first time He has manifested this kind of desire through me. While He wasn’t taking over, and I still had choice in the matter, He did prod, and rather delighted in the result. I’ve mentioned before that He intends for me to represent Him in all His aspects – light, dark, joyful, raging, and so forth.

This was Him using me – and my own wants and needs – to fulfill his “I’m a sexy horndog!” aspect. (Yes, He’s rolling His eyes at that.)

What with the multitudes of crises hitting us over the past two years now, it’s the clearest I’ve felt Him in a very long time. It was disconcerting, but rather a lot of fun.

Letting Go.

Sometimes it’s the most seemingly-mundane that teaches us the best lessons.

Sacred Space just passed, and one of the things I have been most looking forward to was a trade I’d offered and agreed to months ago. I had a friend commission a piece that she hadn’t been able to send the funds for. She’s a massage therapist, and I had never ever had a professional massage.

Barter is alive and well, my friends, and I love it.

Thursday night I went up to the Healer’s Room, kind of nervous (because new thing) and super excited. And while she was working on me, I learned something very important.

I have a very hard time letting go.

This lesson has been coming for a while, and been creeping up noticeably in the past few weeks. Kit and I have been going to Al-Anon (long story short, our youngest is in substance abuse counseling). One of their big things is, “Let go and let God.” Imbolc came and went, and He’s a youth now, poking at me here and there. Both He and Danu my Mother have been pinging me on this front, every time we go to a meeting. And on the massage table, it came home.

Here’s my friend, doing what she’s excellent at, doing what she’s trained to do, and I realize that I’m not really letting her do it. She’s moving me around on the table; I’m trying to help, and that’s not my job. My job, as her client, is to relax and let her work (and Work). But while she’s trying to get my shoulders to open up and move, I’m bracing my legs and arms to try to be helpful and tensing right back up, which just makes her job harder.

I’m so in control of things sometimes. I run my department at the day job. I run our household budget. I keep our schedule. I run our business. So when it comes time to drop that control – even when I know I’m safe – I have a difficult time.

This is why the details of my Collaring Ordeal were kept a secret from me. This is why the fickle Folk are part of my life. This is why Sir so often takes me by surprise. This is why sex and play can be so difficult for me. This is why I hold on to grudges and stress so damn hard. Because while I wouldn’t consider myself controlling, I am very accustomed to being in control, especially of myself and my surroundings, and when something upsets that, it irks me and I don’t let go of that irritation. Even when that something is beneficial to me, ridiculously enough.

I could blame my mother (who is an expert at holding grudges). I could blame the fact that I’m a double Taurus and Leo is my rising sign. But all of that just wastes energy and solves nothing.

Letting go is hard.

To be that healthy, whole person I swore to be at Yule, I need to learn how to let go.

One day at a time, right?