Confusion, Identity, Return to the Waters

I feel out of sorts today. I went to bed too late, and I have enough tension about jaw, neck, shoulder that I’m just trying to unclench and to stop poking at the gums and wisdom tooth with my tongue.

That said, hello, world. I’m internalizing enough stress that I’m not aware how much I want to relax. I’ve had enough “crying” or “laughing” fits that I—well, not “fits” but spasms—that I know it’s there and needs to be—I want to address it.

I’ve tasked _____ to find ways for us to relax and to chill.

Even now, I can feel myself relaxing, almost as if I’m settling into myself. Hurur. In part, a lot of this recent business is about hurur occupying me. Have I fallen back on old habits? Yes. (K and I both say.) [Professional] persona. I find myself not even in my body, almost. Auto-pilot, letting some other ego slide in to run things, and into a robotic, unlucid, auto-stress top personality that leaves me feeling disconnected. From myself, the world, and from my body—

As I allow myself to recover now and to relax into myself, the Otherworlds grow more apparent, the gaze returns, Elethis rises.

A crow on the wing, caw-ing out.

What do we believe about ourselves? I’m confused about myself, but that’s a sign I’m chipping away at cruff, so long as I avoid—as long as I embrace pride and truth.

The Morrigan told me to look to the skies because they inspire me, lift me, help me stand tall, and draw me towards Elethis, towards myself and the HW—

I want to explore the worlds, to wander—the Otherworlds, this world—

If I have magic, what do I want to do? To what ends, magic? To make art of life and reality, but what art? What do I want to do with the magic? To live a magical life, to have freedom and power, but what with them? I do not mistake profession for purpose or identity, but at this point, I can no longer merely say I want magic—I want more and better and more potent magic—but what do I do with it? The Morrigan wants me to teach, to spur people towards sovereignty of thought, speech, and act. I can try to do so. I can do so. However, I still pursue the Path. The Morrigan has helped point me toward the Path.

It’s all so very close sometimes. Like I could almost reach out and grasp, tap, step into—It.

The Otherworlds, the magic, myself, reality and more—

Actuality is almost touchable.

I went into trance with the drums, and they were all in the glade, and they all came with me after I dressed. My confusion remained a big thing on my mind—that and my neck-shoulder-jaw—but I stopped off at the pool of Gli’an, bathed. Odin told me not to share my name ([…]) with Gli’an, and she was very staid tonight, given the gang I had with me. I finished and pulled myself from the waters, and we moved on to the root and to the trunk. From there, I climbed until I came to an easy branch, dumping me in another wood. This was supposedly a part of the ___, but it was hard to see, really.

Channeling the Green from below and upwards seems to make me feel very—[Crowess]. I feel better for having done tonight, and my confusion will go onward.

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