So, as you know bob, I’ve signed up for Miss Sugar’s radical-magical-transformation project. Not long ago, I stated my Big, Over-Arching Goal for the year (and the foreseeable future) as being:
I want my LIFE to be this glorious mash-up of art and sex and joy and beauty, I want my LIFE to be built on and fueled by, and in a symbiotic relationship with, pleasure in all its many forms.
So. Miss Sugar’s latest prompt pertains to taking that Big, Over-Arching Goal and breaking it down into bite-sized micro-goals that actually move you towards your Big Goal in manageable steps.
So. She asks what I can reasonably expect to accomplish by Valentines’ Day.
Now, I look at that date and basically quail in despair. Because I’m temping until the end of January and, even at half-days, it eats a lot of my time.
I know that, right now, I’m just trying to get through the next week (or so) and, after that I can worry about this Radical Transformation stuff.
Which, of course, is garbage. I mean, (a) Why wait? and (b) I’m not actually waiting. Not really. I’m poking at fears, I have a date with my honey-pots booked (the questions is: Will I successfully keep it, cocnsidering it’s tomorrow and I’ve got a dinner to make…), and I’m doing More Reading (in the blogosphere, so far, with a book-list starting to grow) about hedge witchery – a subsection of (frequently?) solitary pagan practice that simultaneously fits beautifully with how I understand the world AND scares the ever-loving fuck out of me because, as much as I don’t want to get hit with Radio Silence, I think I’m actually more scared of getting an answer. Particularly if it’s from someone I’m not expecting. :-\
But, anyway. Tangent.
Things I can do before Valentines’ Day that will – physically or magically – help to push me towards my Big Goal:
I can do my two honey-pot spells – one for career/jobs/money (that is specifically to do with the kind of jobs I want and enjoy and could thrive in) and one for drawing creative inspiration & activity (writing-wise and crafting-wise, but particularly wrt poetry and erotic fiction).
I can send out an email on, say, the 28th of December, reminding my various figure-modeling contacts that they should hire me for their January-April/June sessions.
I can make a point of actually using my scheduled afternoon non-blog-based writing time – rather than letting it slip away answering emails or running errands – to write fiction and/or poetry.
I can learn how to make soy-wax candles that don’t crack all over the place, and experiment with the essential oils I ordered to find useful combinations – with the idea being that I can (a) use my experiments to further my own goals, but also (b) when I get the hang of it, I can start adding drawing-in candles to my list of Crafty crafts that I can, potentially, sell online (or at, say, the annual Yule Craft Fair, or where-ever).
I can order up to two new books on Craftiness of one sort or another, and actually read them in a timely manner.
I can practice reading my tarot cards. (Maybe I can write poetry about each one of them, or something, I don’t know, to get to know them better).
I can routinely check out Kijiji, Craigslist, Charity Village, and the MM Casting Calls page for jobs/gigs that actually fit with my Big Goal, and apply for them.
I can wear perfume (or use other forms of glamour) to put myself in the right headspace and pull (good/useful, one hopes) attention towards me. I can write/think/read more about Femme (which is up to its elbows – at least for me – in sensual hedonism, feminine sexuality, AND feminine power). I can take baths full of epsom salts and essential oils (myrrh, sweet orange, and cinnamon?) and use the time to (a) de-stress and (b) shave my legs and do other routine maintenance that leaves me feeling more powerful and on top of things and more myself.
I can take to doing tarot readings in local cafes just to see if I catch the interest of anyone who wants to pay me to do one for them. (This has happened before. It could happen again).
Speaking of which: I did a tarot reading for myself today, with a fairly wide-open “what’s coming up, can I do this for a career” kind of question. The answer I got was, basically:
You learn by doing. It’ll be hard to break through the barriers you’ve put up to your own knowledge/understanding/sight but if you keep working at it, you’ll get there.
My signifier was the King of Swords (which, in my deck, is “Control”, and which I tend to think of as the Lord Domly-Dom card), and I’m not totally sure what that’s about, unless it’s something about me holding myself in a rigid position because I’m afraid of losing control by trying something outside of what’s familiar to me.
‘Cause, boy-howdy, is that ever the case! O.O
Miss Sugar’s fourth point in her post, the one about consulting with whichever spirits/deities you work with regarding the Stuff that’s preventing you from achieving your goals? That’s the one that scares me. I’ve talked elsewhere about being (slightly) more afraid of getting an answer than I am of getting radio silence if I hard-core reached out and went “Mamas, I have got to talk to you about something”.
Whenever I do this, I basically talk (half in my head, half outloud) to “the air” and remind them all that, basically, I’m really obtuse and if they want to point me in the right direction, they’re going to need the biggest neon finger in the world to get it through to me.
This works surprisingly well, actually.
(Granted, in this case, I think I know what’s stopping me: Fear. Because it’s pretty much always “fear” with me. Fear of failure. Fear of success leading to my getting in over my head. Fear of getting noticed in a way that leads to my being some kind of a target. Fear fear fear fear fear. I know that one).
That’s it for me this evening. Tomorrow, I’ll probably be on here flailing about getting the root veggie roast done on time, but for now I’m going to bed.
Meliad the Birch Maiden.
 How horrible is that? Canceling a date with your deities? WTF…
 This happened once, when I was very new to Paganism, and was wanting to do a blessing ritual and was working out the ritual poetry in class and… she showed up. Maia, I mean. She’s an alto, as it happens. She sounded both amused – possibly because it was obvious how surprised I was – and… and “Okay, kiddo. Now that I’m here, you’d better not be wasting my time…” Y’know?
 Which is, perhaps, reading things into a card that, really, I could have told you without the visual aid. 😉