While exercising (sit-ups) while “O Fortuna” came on, I became aware of my Wyrd—at the time I perceived it as some thing like a long fibrous trunk extending before my vision at an angle—
—sort of like so. Imagine seeing a strand of hair highly magnified, or something like an artery. A root.
Tonight I sought to discern more. It was difficult at first—I could imagine grasping it, but it was lifeless and—I dunno, sullen (?) in my hands. I experimented for a bit, tried different things.
Ultimately, you can’t pin that shit down or “seize” it. Besides, what I initially saw was just a thread, a rather physical one at that. My best success was in, well, rising to the artron fire level, the divine fire—but I think it’s there on all levels. Ultimately, it’s more like a snowflake, tree, veins, or all of those things. It’s like trying to pin down n-dimensional things with words and metaphors. It’s like trying to pin down a life with words. So I danced. Danced while drawing the artron fires,—it’s experiences, dreams, choices, potentiality, dancing, moving, performing, conducting potential and self and the Wyrd towards experiences. It is self as wyrms that are wise. It’s a path to wholeness and magic—dancing approaches a notion of it. Music, dance. It connects me to others.
In part, the limited sense of it reminded me of the impelling chest stuff from Donnie Darko, which only accounts for physical location and movement.
I also began a candle magic spell—charging it with artron and gold fire, pouring desires onto, into it, sigiling it, carved [sigil] atop in the wax, and lighting it.
I have been too passive in my magic—even in relaxing. I’ve not channeled for too long. I’ve “relaxed” and talked my way towards magic. Vent. Directed, justified anger. Articulate frustration. Rage in a useful manner. You need gold fire: you need fuel for that fire. Meditate and align in the morning, but don’t mistake subjection and fear for humility. Draw down _____’s breath and the gold fire. Draw up the FitE—she is Fire in the Earth for a reason.
* * *
I called G. tonight—I’ve kept forgetting I’d chosen to do so. It felt relieving, a release of tension & energy to do so.
Wanting/desire is the beginning of the path to action. To only speak of what you want is to only desire. Magic demands action, even symbolic action. People want all sorts of things—you have to seize or make them. And the problem with to be dwells in self-reflection. In reflecting on one’s limits & problems, one can remain caught within linguistic and cognitive mirrors.
I need to armor myself if I am “thin-skinned”—I need to find my armor and weapons. I need fire and energy and courage, and I have them, but I need to rouse, fan, and channel them. Remind myself of what I have.
I judge myself far more harshly than nearly anyone else.
Fire in the Earth, in My Head, in my Hand and Heart. My armor—my sword is my will and mind and words and heart.
Part of the problem is that I defeat myself. I constrain and hide myself. I can have courage but too often I fail to channel it consistently. I was trained to see myself as without power, as powerless—cars and transportation got into this—
And I burn too much energy on guilt, shame, and anxiety/fear. I hinder myself. I want to confront those forces & ideas within myself.
Armor, Weapon, Fire.
Call your gods, for you have not done so.
Kunnivagna—mover of constellations
The way to become Authun’s friend is to become his friend. Share your wealth as you can and act as a friend to men and women.
He appears more as I’d imagine the Ghost of Christmas Present might appear as the Old Man. I’ve been asked to leave runes of wealth in the places I go.
[fehu] (which I used in invoking Authun)
Remember I move through realms of glamour and the Summerlands everyday.