Saturday, February 27, 2016

Sunday, February 14, 2016


It was September or October that my spirits (Guardians, Guides, and my ever-shifting but always present entourage of the deceased) started leaning on me to do the Supernatural St. Louis 'zine. (I have hundreds of projects on my to-do list.) Since I also have a political 'zine that I hope to get started soon, and since I think that the political zine will have more of an impact in changing this world and ushering in the New Age in a visible way, I kind of ignored the "pushes".  It was after Samhain that I started feeling that breathe on my neck kind of urgency.  The kind  of urgency where if I ignore my spirits or procrastinate I end up regretting it.

So, I got the zine out, finally, and then the second issue.  And well, not too much has happened. The first issue- with the article on the Arch, got over 100 hits.  The second issue has about 25.  (It's hard to tell because I can't count how many times the Google Doc has been accessed, and the blog only counts when someone actually goes to the post.  In other words, if you just go to my blog and click the link to the Google Doc, it doesn't register it as a pageview- it shows a visit to the blog, but doesn't count it as a pageview.)

In my fantasy, the first issue came out- in printed format- and immediately I started getting submissions for articles and images, and angry letters from other pagans about my versions of the pagan feast days, or gods, or what have you.  The second issue made me realise that I might have to do the whole thing alone for a while, maybe a year. I never meant for it to be a solo effort.  I wanted to provide a forum for all of the supernatural communities.  But first I have to create the forum.  And that obviously isn't going to happen with a zine that has no printed distribution, or professional on-line format.  (Working on both of those things.)

I would like to find local witches to send in spells or astral travel reports.  Or articles on supernatural phenomena that I am not witness to. As a Medium, I have no understanding of Ghost Hunting.  I would like to have articles about St. Louis' Ghost Hunters, and perhaps I will write one, but I am in constant contact with dead people.  I don't need to hunt ghosts or measure their ectoplasms with scientific instruments. I would be (will be) writing the article because it is something I want to see in SSL, not because I am qualified.

And I had no idea how much work it would take to get the publication to even resemble something I wanted to put my name on.  (In my fantasy it really looked like a professional glossy tabloid.) But mid-way through issue two I realised how much I loved doing it.  Regardless of the reasons that my spirits felt it was timely, it was timely for me because I do really dislike winter in St. Louis.  I need a project to look forward to, that will consume me.

And because SSL is monthly, it is consuming like any writing project, but not open-ended and years long.  A book really takes two years, sometimes longer. SSL is satisfying, but also manageable.  It is exciting, but not draining.  And it gives me a sense of accomplishment, which is better than excitement.

Many people, including myself, mistake happiness for excitement.  The excitement of an event or trip, a change in the routine.  Or the excitement of spending money.  Or making it.  Or the excitement that comes when a life event or situation conforms to an expectation or fantasy.  "I'm in love, I'm happy!" "I have a new car, I'm happy!" "I got a promotion, I'm happy!" "I'm going to Bali, I'm happy!"

That kind of happiness never lasts because it isn't happiness. Not for me.  And I wish it hadn't taken me 5 decades to learn that.  For me, real happiness is a decision to always be reaching for happiness- especially when there is no excitement or circumstance to grant the feeling spontaneously- and self-love.  I learned that from the dead peeps.  Regret, resentment, fear, guilt, anger- dead people really understand that the only thing anyone really possesses in life is that moment. This moment.  Now. Right now.

Happiness is like pearls on string- to borrow from Anne Morrow Lindbergh's description of a perfect summer.  A happy life is a life made of happy moments.

This is the first year of my life where I would not be bothered to eat in a restaurant by myself on Valentine's Day.  I long ago got over the retail bullshit- not that I don't like flowers or chocolate or jewelry- but the social stigma of being alone or single on V.D. lingered.

At 50, and in possession of the decision to be happy regardless of what is happening around me or to me- I have become incredibly selfish about honouring my own feelings.  I rarely go out to eat, and even more rarely alone (I like to cook), but it is nice to be free of the sensitivity to other people's reactions.  I love myself enough now to do what feels best to me.

I think many creative people will understand when I say the best Valentine I could get this year (and every year) would be the time and resources to be so absorbed in writing- SSL, the books I am working on, blogging, my comic book script, short stories, poems- that I don't even notice that a holiday is approaching.  It is true that writers, especially, can get sucked into black holes of oblivion to anything but a page count, for years.  Far too long to be healthy, and we probably do need someone that will pull us out for dinner and socialising every now and again.

But Valentine's Day would not be one of those now and agains for me.  I just don't care. I want flowers and candy when I have finished a draft.  Or found a publisher.  Not because the Catholic Church couldn't squelch Valentinus belief in sexual union as a path to Gnosis, and later made up some other martyr named Valentine, and gave him a feast day, so that they could channel off a lusty party they couldn't stop, and then 1600 years later our consumer culture turned the whole mess into another retail frenzy... complete with "spinster" shaming and man romancing obligations.

Seriously.  The holiday is ridiculous.  Before the Industrial Age February was the natural time for romance.  It was the only time of year- even in hard years- when working people had time for any sort of private-life leisure and court-ship.  (Even one hundred years ago, 75% of all households in the U.S. were farms.)

We don't live in that world anymore.  V.D. needs to be reinvented for the New Age.  It's basically the "nice" side of misogyny.  I'm not saying the whole romantic thing needs to be dumped, but it needs to be balanced.  It needs to be about more than candy and flowers and lingerie and going out to dinner. All those doilies and cards and red roses at Walgreens are ridiculous.  How much more consumer crap can this world produce before the planet collapses under the weight of America's need for consumer excitement? Excuse me, "happiness"?

SO, my Superbowl prediction was waaaaaaaay off.  Like WAY OFF.  I had Broncos 49 and the other team at 33 or 38.  (I posted on my facebook page right before the game.) And it was pretty consistent vision and I even tried to bet.  As soon as the game was in the first quarter I was so glad I hadn't!

I really think that 2008 game was rare.  A very stable set of players on both teams, and few changes or alterations.  Psychics, more than anyone, know that the future is never set in stone.  But this year, I think my own prediction was off, too.  I didn't take it seriously, and especially the night before the game, if I was going to bet, instead of looking up on line betting sites while partying at Venice for Mardi Gras, I would have needed to be at home, meditating and visualizing.

Just some late night thoughts, at the end of a writer's winter day... I really miss L.A. in winter.  St. Louis is my home now, at least for the foreseeable future, but I am not a fan of the weather here... Brrr...

Blessings, peeps!