(LS Ratio: 4:6. Mood: "I feel the earth...move...under mah feet. I feel the sky tumba-lin down, tumba-lin down....")
Monday morning was the Summer Solstice. I flirted with Wicca and Neopaganism back in my early twenties for about half a year, and while it didn't work out - Jodyism being a far more compelling path - I still like to observe the points in the solar cycle, if only to make myself believe that Planet Earth turns slowly....(say, that's catchy!).
Living at the Burlington waterfront, I also have the major advantage of the Beachway, which lets me watch the sun rise from right on the horizon line of Lake Ontario.
So Monday morning, I got up really early and got myself out there for 5:30am, around sunrise. I walked out to a spot on the beach, sat down, meditated until the sun peeked over the horizon - it was real purty - and then got up, dusted myself off, and started back.
So Monday morning, I got up really early and got myself out there for 5:30am, around sunrise. I walked out to a spot on the beach, sat down, meditated until the sun peeked over the horizon - it was real purty - and then got up, dusted myself off, and started back.
And that's when I was attacked by one of these little fuckers.......
I felt the air over my head suddenly whoosh and I heard a sharp chirp. Given it was still pretty dark out and there was no one else around the path back to Spencer Smith Park, it caught me off guard. I looked up again, disoriented, only see the red-yellow-black blur coming at me again. I ducked, but the talons still brushed past my scalp.
I looked up as it flew back into the tree, muttered something like "Dude, okay, I'm going, all right?" before hastening my exit from the scene. He did not follow me, so I'm assuming he was just defending his nest and I happened to be the only threat in sight at the time. Either that or I woke his red and yellow-tailed ass and he wanted to express his displeasure at not having his full 4.75 hours or whatever the hell birds need for uninterrupted sleep.
I looked up as it flew back into the tree, muttered something like "Dude, okay, I'm going, all right?" before hastening my exit from the scene. He did not follow me, so I'm assuming he was just defending his nest and I happened to be the only threat in sight at the time. Either that or I woke his red and yellow-tailed ass and he wanted to express his displeasure at not having his full 4.75 hours or whatever the hell birds need for uninterrupted sleep.
I thought, I got attacked by a bird. This is going to be an interesting week.
Lo and behold, I showed up to work later that morning and barely made it into the lobby when we had to evacuate and wait for the fire department, because someone pulled the alarm.
And, of course, the earth moved yesterday...
Really, this week has, indeed, been anything but routine.
I never finished the omen entry that I started, but this week's definitely given me some more source material. There's just this odd atmosphere present, an elevated level of strangeness just about everywhere I go. Even hanging out with friends last night until about one in the morning seemed...off somehow. Lots of big picture discussions about life directions, career paths, finding one's calling.... surprisingly unusual for our typical get-togethers.
I wrote earlier that omens indicating your alignment with your path, and that the point of the analysis isn't primarily what the event or occurrence is, but rather, your relationship to it. I'll go back to Carlos Castaneda's retelling in A Separate Reality of the headlights following he and Don Juan Matus along that lonely road in Mexico. What makes the omen, in this case, isn't the empirical reality that they're car headlights, but what the appearance of those headlights in your reality means for what you're dealing with right now.
So what does getting attacked by a bird, two building evacuations, a surreal conversation with old friends on a Wednesday night, and an earthquake mean to me?
In a very literal sense, I feel it means that the world is changing.
It's telling me my routine is going to be upended, not in a dramatic way, but enough that things will stop feeling so mediocre.
It means I may need to move away from fault lines and steer clear of wild animals.
There are other ones, though. My omens mostly involve crows. I don't see them every day, even though there's a nest somewhere close to where I live. When I do see they, they tend to be swooping right in front of my car as I'm on the highway, or perched nearby as I'm walking. On the surface, their appearances are random, but what you don't see is that they tend to show when I'm feeling energized and in line with what it is I'm looking to get done. In other words, when I'm on the path. Dismiss is it as coincidence all you want: to me, the crows are a sign of growth, change, and progress.
Then there's also the Music Oracle. Songs have meaning, not always in the lyrics, either, but it's an exercise my friend Stephanie told me about. If you're in the car or elsewhere, and you have something you're working to figure out in your head, you'll start noticing that the very next song that comes on has a message relevant to your situation. If a song's following you - and not necessarily a Top 40 song that you can hear everywhere - then stop and listen for the lyrics, or even just the feeling it generates inside your mind, and see what it says about your biggest challenge to date.
The spooky feeling's still in the air as I finish this, though. All I can do is keep writing, keep patching up this gash on my leg from baseball, keep everything chugging along, and see where it takes me.
Strange thing is, I think I have an inkling of what I'd like to do, but I'll chill for a bit. The work week still has 24 hours to go. God knows what's going to happen next....
I wrote earlier that omens indicating your alignment with your path, and that the point of the analysis isn't primarily what the event or occurrence is, but rather, your relationship to it. I'll go back to Carlos Castaneda's retelling in A Separate Reality of the headlights following he and Don Juan Matus along that lonely road in Mexico. What makes the omen, in this case, isn't the empirical reality that they're car headlights, but what the appearance of those headlights in your reality means for what you're dealing with right now.
So what does getting attacked by a bird, two building evacuations, a surreal conversation with old friends on a Wednesday night, and an earthquake mean to me?
In a very literal sense, I feel it means that the world is changing.
It's telling me my routine is going to be upended, not in a dramatic way, but enough that things will stop feeling so mediocre.
It means I may need to move away from fault lines and steer clear of wild animals.
There are other ones, though. My omens mostly involve crows. I don't see them every day, even though there's a nest somewhere close to where I live. When I do see they, they tend to be swooping right in front of my car as I'm on the highway, or perched nearby as I'm walking. On the surface, their appearances are random, but what you don't see is that they tend to show when I'm feeling energized and in line with what it is I'm looking to get done. In other words, when I'm on the path. Dismiss is it as coincidence all you want: to me, the crows are a sign of growth, change, and progress.
Then there's also the Music Oracle. Songs have meaning, not always in the lyrics, either, but it's an exercise my friend Stephanie told me about. If you're in the car or elsewhere, and you have something you're working to figure out in your head, you'll start noticing that the very next song that comes on has a message relevant to your situation. If a song's following you - and not necessarily a Top 40 song that you can hear everywhere - then stop and listen for the lyrics, or even just the feeling it generates inside your mind, and see what it says about your biggest challenge to date.
The spooky feeling's still in the air as I finish this, though. All I can do is keep writing, keep patching up this gash on my leg from baseball, keep everything chugging along, and see where it takes me.
Strange thing is, I think I have an inkling of what I'd like to do, but I'll chill for a bit. The work week still has 24 hours to go. God knows what's going to happen next....
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