You’re getting another combination-post today because, frankly, I’m freakin’ tired and also have candles to make, which means bashing up some beeswax before I can get to that part.
So it’s Ice Moon. The local Winterlude festival (and the concurrent Snowblower festival) is in full swing, coming up on its final weekend, and we have ice and snow apleanty, without it being too cold.
This is really great for anyone who relies on tourist dollars to make their living, so hurrah. Also, much as slogging through drifts kinda sucks? I’ll take that over -38 pretty much any day of the week, even when my grocery bag straps decided to snap, one after another, on the way home from the grocery store.
(Guess what happened to me today?)
But the real “big deal” for me today is that (on Valentines’ Day, of all days) I went to the Heart Institute to talk about the results of a test I had done last month. I was quite worried about what I was going to find out because, while there wasn’t much chance of something being particularly wrong, the wrong would have been with my heart, which is kind of a very massive deal, y’know?
Anywqay. Given the veb-tense I was just using, I suspect it’s become clear to most of you that my heart is, in fact, just fine.
Halle-freaking-luia, and thank you Maia! ❤
Colour me relieved!
So that's my news for the cresting of Ice Moon. But what, you may be asking yourself, does this have to do with Paganism? Why “D is for Doctor”?
Well. Let me just tell you. 🙂
While at the Heart institute, the doctor gave me a bit of a check-up – stuff about my pulse and my breathing, for the most part. Very professional and business-like. But it felt… more intimate than it was, if you will.
Now, my wife, as you know bob, is quite a bit more perceptive about these things than I am. So when she commented to me that “That doctor was really doing her job,” but wouldn’t elaborate until we were out of the hospital, I figured I was in for something witchy.
What she said was “She was listening with more than her ears”.
Now, I know that doctors learn how to see people’s insides without cutting them open – that’s kind of the point of the training, in a lot of ways, and it’s likely that this was just a skilled craftsperson doing her work well (like how my wife would listen to a piece of wookd to learn what it wanted to be made into). At the same time, though… When I say that her examination “felt more intimate than it was”… I mean it.
I said “I think I felt that. It felt like she was touching me under my skin”. Not very far under, I grant you. But…
Look. Maybe this isn’t a “reality check” so much as the two of us confirming our spidy senses like “yes men” or something. But… it’s still nice to have my itty bitty tingles of personal gnosis (or whatever you want to call it) backed up by someone else’s experience.
Meliad the Birch Maiden.
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