And it reminds me of my favorite X-Files episode.  Just saying.

So I'm on facebook...and I mention on my status:

"A woman should handle herself with dignity and grace"

Well, someone said,

"Are Dignity and Grace sex toys?  I'm not really sure we want to know how you handle yourself, Lisa."

At which point I laughed hysterically.

Then a relative comes on and says, "How are you, Lisa?"

D'oh.

 

I'm desperately trying to get this relative off my friend's list.  LOL.

Oh well.  I'm sure even  70 year old women know about Dignity and Grace.  And maybe even the showerhead.

A scratchy throat and a plugged up nose.

I think I'm getting sick.  Bleh.  It's not an option.

It's thundering and raining today - and I'm in my warm house with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Little Star is playing video games, I'm straightening up and then planning to do nothing but sit with my book and read - just read.

I wish I had more days like these.

It's pleasantly cool outside...I'm drinking my coffee with the Vanilla Caramel Brownie Creamer in it...and there is soft light, coffe smells, the sound of a playing child, and the promise of a peaceful and happy day at Home.

Life is good.

For being such a wonderful friend to me.  You've made me laugh when I felt like crying, have picked me up when I've fallen down, and helped me to remember who I am.

I can't thank you enough for extending your friendship to me, and if I lived closer, I'd bring you and starfire some low-carb cookies or something.

Really - you've been good to me....when I really didn't deserve to have anyone be good to me.

Thank you.

It promises cheesy horror thrills....and I am going.  Little Star is begging me to take him, but I don't know how scary it is or how appropriate it would be for a six year old to go.

Has anyone seen it, and if so, can a little boy handle it?

But it makes me happy.

Today, my ex-inlaws brought me my bookcase from storage.  It's a tall thing, about five feet tall, and three feet wide, and is made of solid wood.

It had been a birthday present my ex-husband gave me years ago.  I had always been a voracious reader, and I had books everywhere.  The bookcase could never contain all of them, but I loved my books.

For years they have been in storage boxes in my office. 

As it is now, I have baskets - two huge ones in my bedroom stuffed with books.  I have books in the bathroom, as well.

Now - they brought me two more storage boxes of books, which I unpacked liked Christmas presents and placed lovingly on my new/old bookcase.

I found books that were like old friends to me - books I had referred to for years because I wanted to remember certain pieces.

My taste is so eclectic.  I have academic books on Psychology and American Literature, Christian theology, Greek culture, Greek Mythology, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Charlaine Harris, Laurrel Hamilton, Kellerman (both husband and wife), Robert Patterson.  I have books on running, books for self help, inspirational quotes, women's reflections.

I feel so happy - I have back what was always a part of me that I had forgotten - my beloved books.  The things that spoke to me, meant something to me....the places that I escaped to when life became too much.

It reminded me of who I used to be - the closet intellectual that had to know a little about everything...always curious, always seeking, always trying to find the truth in any  genre that I could find it in.

I found a part of me today - in the form of an old bookcase. and well loved, dog eared books.

My favorite modern depiction of them.  Eros reminds me of my Little Star.

I said I didn't believe in it - that' it's something that we fool ourselves into believing so that we can get out of bed in the morning.

I lied.  I believe in hope....and faith....and the future.

Dammit - I am a closet optimist hiding in a pessimist's body.

I've been having some interesting discussions on Mind n Magick about the Nature of the Gods, and how we perceive them.

A poster on the forum stated that he felt that the Gods were compassionate and understanding, and overlooked our mistakes in regard to worship.

Another poster said that in terms of the Gods themselves, it would truly depend on theology, because the gods were so fluid....they were so intermingled that it would be difficult to tell anyone that they were doing it wrong.

I feel that if the Gods were full of vice, then they would not be Gods.  So yes - I do think they overlook mistakes made out of genuine ignorance.  That doesn't mean that we get a pass, though.  I think that in order to worship authentically, we have a responsibility to perfect our worship, and learn as we go. 

Fludity does not equal piety and respect.  In order to worship correctly, we have to have an understanding of these Deities within the correct cultural and historical context, know how worship was done, why it was done, and the correct worldview in order to worship autnentically.

I know that doesn't go over so well with those who have a personal understanding of a specific Deity - an understanding that trumps worship. 

I have no issues with people worshipping as they wish, but I do feel that if one is going to worship in a way that would be seen as offensive to these Gods culturally - they should at least be aware that that is what they're doing.

I know this creates all sorts of problems - but I cannot help but feel it should be said.

I've been really back into worship.  If anything, I have become more of a hard-core recon than I ever was before.  It amazes me that in times of adversity and hardship, I turned *to* the Gods, and not away from them.  Before, it was the other way around.  For some reason - now- it's all different.

Through worship, I have found my Strength.  I have remembered who I am, and I can stand with my head held high, my self worth intact, and deal with whatever comes my way.

I don't think that I've suddenly changed my personality - but I seem to be living those ethics that I've always said I cared so much about.

I still cry, I still get knocked down, I still falter.  But I know that I can survive it.

And that has made all the difference.

Hail the Theoi!!

 You know - I've been having so much darn personal gnosis lately, that I've been thinking more and more about Mysticism and the Mystical experience.

In researching, I'm confusing the Neopagan aspect of Mysticism with the Recon one.  In doing so, I've been so disgusted with the idea that I am ready to disregard Mysticism entirely.  I mean really - what a bunch of bunk.

But at the same time - if I know that the Gods are everywhere, evident in everything - sounds, smells, the things I see and feel.  Why on earth would I not have an experience that brings me communion with Deity?

I just don't know how to tell the difference between a Mystical Experience and wishful thinking, even delusion.

How does one *know*?

I don't want to be one of those idiots that smells bar-b-que near a restaurant and think that I'm the priestess of the God of Beef.

 SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY

by: George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824)

HE walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

 

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impair'd the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

 

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!


Hail Aphrodite!!

A gentleman came into the office today and told me my eyes were like emeralds.

Pleased, I went up to a coworker and said, "Did you know my eyes were like emeralds?"

He replied, " Does that mean I can cut them out and sell them?"

Love you, Shane.

I just had some thoughts about her today.  When I first became aware of her she was super pissy - I thought she hated me.  I was lighting a candle for her, and the flame shot up and burned my hair.  Really.

I thought I understood her.  I never really did.  I did extensive reading and research, desperately trying to understand her origins, her aspects, her epithets.

I came to deeply respect her, if not slightly fear her.  This Deity has tremendous power.  In understanding Hera, I found that I more easily understood Aphrodite.  These two Gods work very closely together.  In fact, they share epithets.

I give offerings to Hera and Aphrodite almost daily - now that I have devoted myself to practice, again.  I am deeply grateful to them - for they have both blessed me in so many different ways.

I have learned much.

Hail Aphrodite!  Hail Hera!

I will strive to be kind, loving, and compassionate.  To everyone.

It's a remembrance and an acknowledgement of who I am....a person I seem to have forgotten somewhere.

I asked for a Tarot Card reading for some clarity on situations surrounding my life.

What I received was a gift.  A gentleman gave me an over two hour reading.  He used not only Tarot, but Runes, Nature readings, Kabaala and other formulas to give me an in depth and accurate reading that tapped into my emotions, my fears, my hopes, and deepseated issues that for the most part I keep hidden from everyone, including myself.

It brought me such peace, though.  Not because it told me what I wanted to hear, but because it empowered me to tap into *Myself*.

At the end he told me that he saw a large Mountain....and that I should burn fire at the top of it.  He had no idea what this meant, and thought it meant that I needed to take a trip somewhere out of the flatness of Texas and perform a ritual on a hill.

I thought about it - and then I realized that the Mountain was Olympus - and that I should continue to do what I have been doing.  Worship the Theoi.

I need to do what I've been doing - working on myself and piety and virtue - clinging to my highest self - and the Gods would take care of the rest.

I know that sounds so crazily spiritual coming from a Reconstructionists brain - but without devotion and love, we have *nothing*.

I said it before, but truly didn't know what it meant:

"When it comes down to it - Love is all there is".