Author: Archturiat

I have written so little, so now I will write too much.

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I’ve so been neglecting not only my public journal here, but my private one as well.  So, here goes a long laundry list of things.  I will apologize in advance if some of this is “too much information” in advance.  I have a lot on my mind, and over the next couple of weeks I’m probably going to be posting quite a lot as I try to put some things into words that are hard.

The past few months have been good, for the most part.  No, I should correct that: generally, things have been REAL good.  My job is all kinds of awesome, and I’m getting along great with my immediate cow-orkers, my boss, and for the most part pretty much everybody thinks I’m pretty cool.  I’m not making a ton of money, but enough to get by at the moment.. and maybe even enough to get this goofy retail store off the ground.

Life in Bend is pretty much what I expected.  There’s some good things, and some bad things.  I often feel lonely.. I don’t have a whole lot of friends here outside work, and my social circle is way smaller than I’m typically comfortable with.  I am constantly reminded of why I loved living in the desert before.  I’ve always come to the desert to heal, and that process has begun.

The healing has begun.  I’ve been without adequate health insurance for quite a long time, but that’s only been part of my “issue.”  Over the last six months especially I’ve spent a lot of time in introspection, a lot of time looking at my personality, for better or for worse.  For those who haven’t heard, I have a much clearer diagnosis on my neurochemical issues, and while I’m choosing to not take medication at the moment I can at least see what’s going on often times before it happens.  I can’t always change it, but I can at least warn people when my mood swings down that I’m “cranky”, and perhaps do things to minimize the down times.

I still struggle with feeling alone.  Part of this is I have a real hard time of letting go.  I still, after all these years, haven’t “let go” of people I haven’t seen since my teenage years.  Even thinking of Melody, as distant of a voice as that is, causes me a moment of melancholy heartache.  It’s not getting better as I’m aging.   Part of me yearns to reach out to everybody I have known, to reconnect to my past.

I used to say I was a man of few regrets.  That is rapidly becoming an outright lie.  Part of this introspective period has laid bare that I have quite a few, actually.  I regret wasting so many years of my life in fear of a relationship.  I regret not managing my money from my parents’ estate better.  I regret not focusing on being healthy sooner: this regret really hurts now, because I’ve lost so much in the past five years because of this lack of focus.

But mostly, I regret not being the best I could be for those who have spent these past ten or so years as part of my life.  Andee, Chi, Norma: you have all suffered because I have been weak, and because I wasn’t the “best Feedle” I could possibly be.  And I’m sorry.

Andee: you stood by me when I was struggling with what sounded initially like a death sentence.  As time went on and we discovered that medical science often overreacts when certain diseases seem likely, you were there for me.  Even as we decided that our own individual health was more important than our relationship, you were strong.  I only now realize the sacrifices you made to help me.  Thank you, and I love you still, and forgive me.

Chi: I only wish I can express to you the sorrow I feel for the way our relationship ended.  We were both in pain, and I realize many of the ways I hurt you.  I don’t expect your forgiveness, I don’t expect anything more than for you to be happy in your new life with the lover you deserve.  I owe you a debt I can never repay, between your care of my own flesh and blood when I could not be emotionally strong to enduring my own suffering through the darkest nights of my life.  Thank you, and I love you still, and someday, at least try to forgive me.

Norma: the past two years have been especially difficult for me, but you never gave up hope.  Even when I couldn’t see the opportunities that were in front of me, you encouraged me to reach for them anyway.  You are an amazing woman, so vibrant and beautiful, and one of the smartest and most creative people I know.  You’ve supported me through this long winter: now that Spring is here I want to take your hand and dance with you and celebrate.  I hope I can learn to be worthy of your love by taking the lessons of this Winter to heart as we move forward.  Thank you, I love you, and forgive me when I falter.

Too everyone else, all and sundry: you have all been important in my life.  I may not mention you by name here, but that’s not the point.. the point is, I love all of you.  I might not always show you my best side: after all, the Queen of Swords is quick to temper, sometimes judgmental.. but lately, she has been “too busy” for her family.  And that’s wrong, and I know it.  All of you have played some part, small or large, in keeping me alive through this past Winter, and I have in some cases emotionally neglected some of you.  I’ve outright pushed a few of you away in a fit of anger.  I now realize this “anger” was not always appropriate, and it was rarely deserved.  Thank you for what you have done, I love you still, and forgive me.  My door is open to all of you, if you wish to knock and enter.

 

Yes, I’m “okay.”  *chuckle*  This is not a suicide note, by any means.  This is change, however.  When I changed my name, I wanted to be a better person.  More aware, more refined, more confident.  I wanted to acknowledge this force inside of me that has burned, often in hiding, and yearned to be expressed.  I am stronger now, I’m more whole now, and I’m once again alive.  I want to heal all wounds, make everything I’ve “broken” right again.  I can’t fix everything overnight, but I stand before you with my hands open and my spirit ready to work to regain broken trust as I attempt to finally heal my broken mind, soul, and body over these next few months.

In short, I want to be the “angel” I envision inside to every one I know and meet.  A force of healing, of love, and of light to all, to the best of my abilities as a mere mortal man in a very messy world.

To that end, I say with gratitude to all:  Thank you.  I love you.  And forgive me.

 

One Million Moms vs. the other Three Hundred Million Americans

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One Million Moms is at it again against JCPenney. And it would be humorous, if it wasn’t so sad.

JCPenney, like most middle-class focused retailers, has been watching their classic demographic wither and die. They’ve already watched as many of their contemporaries.. once proud national retailers like Montgomery Ward.. and regional retailers like Mervyn’s.. have folded. Sears is a shadow of it’s former self. And even the upscale retailers have not been exempt, as chains like The Broadway and Meier and Frank have found themselves consolidated into Macy’s, while others have just simply vanished.

JCPenney is smart to be inclusive. Increasingly, as the next generation matures into adulthood, they already carry a much higher level of tolerance to alternative lifestyles. With each passing generation American society is becoming more inclusive and more open.

For the rest of us, let’s remind JCPenney that One Million Moms.. even if they do indeed represent “one million Moms”, is 0.3% of the population of the United States. We should not allow a small, hateful, bigoted organization to dictate terms under which we all should live.

It’s time for that minority to go into the closet.

Desert rain, and winter pains.

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I miss living in the desert.

Spring appears to have arrived in Bend.  I’ve only lived here a few weeks and I can already identify the shift in the weather.  In fairly short order, the snow has turned to rain, and the rain has a.. dryness to it that reminds me of the monsoon rains in the Mojave and Sonora deserts.

It smells a little like home.  And it’s comforting.

I’m now surrounded by the odor of a desert coming alive.  This smell is quite different from the odor of the past three weeks.  It’s not as “cold” (even though the temperature still hovers around freezing at night).  It’s inviting.  It’s earthy.  It invited me to get out of my car in the middle of the desert today (some 40 miles east of downtown Bend) to experience the rain.

A lot of pain from the Long Winter I just lived through was washed away today.  Spring is finally here again.

Prank Calls at the Motel 6

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Something really odd just happened. I awoke to the phone ringing in my hotel room at about 10:15-ish. On the other end was somebody claiming to be from the hotel’s front desk and saying something about getting complaints about “loud parties in my room” or some such. I went silent on the line and just waited, and after a couple of “hellos?” they hung up.

I immediately knew it wasn’t the front desk. First off, the call audio was obviously not local.. even through this motel’s crappy PBX I could tell it was likely long distance, and even had telltale signs of Skype jitter in the audio. Secondly, I’ve stayed here long enough to have met all the front desk staff: they’re all old geezers, and this caller’s voice sounded like a juvenile punk kid. It also sounded vaguely.. familiar.

I sure wish I wasn’t asleep when the call came in. I now suspect it was the children at Madhouse Live.  It sounded like them, anyway.

OK, haha, very funny.  How droll.  And then I realized something that kinda creeps me out a little bit: they used my first name during the call.

Wait. How did they know my first name?

I walked to the front desk and had a brief conversation with the (old) man.  Turns out that our fun-loving telephone r0dent social engineered the front desk into releasing the name of the person in room 1xx using some story about somebody being ill.  Wonderful.  I informed the guy that we’d just been had, and went back to my room.

After sitting here for a few minutes, I now feel a little uneasy.  One of the downsides to having a unique first name is that it’s pretty easy to find me.  There is only one person with my first name: me.  Doing a simple Google search on only my first name gives you Everything You Ever Need To Know.  (Yeah, I’m aware that by posting this very article I’m making it worse..)

I’m fortunate: the caller could have been a phisher working a scam and not just out for a Fiber-Optic Joyride.  I also plan on making sure the hotel gets a little bit of an education on this and doesn’t fall for this flim-flammery in the future.

Oh, and a big apology to Madhouse Live (assuming that was in fact you) I didn’t provide a better show.  I was asleep.  Give me a little warning next time and you’d have had something legendary.  I could have slipped in to my “Big Dick” Stetson voice and gone all shit-howdy hick postal on you (which is probably what you expected when you called a budget motel in rural Oregon anyway, not some half-awake blogger geek).

Anyway, I’m going back to bed.  With the ringer on the phone switched to OFF.

And suddenly, I’m very aware of gender bias in Neopaganism.

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The whole Pantheacon “thing” really gets under my skin.

On the one hand, there are things about it I don’t think I’ll ever understand.  I’m unquestionably male in appearance and in outward personality.  I’ve never had to cope with many of the issues that those friends of mine who are transgender have had to cope with.  I’ve never had to look at the face in the mirror and feel like the person staring back at me “is not me.”

On the other hand, a significant part of my spiritual and cultural identity is decidedly transgender: my feminine higher self is always there, guiding my hands and words in often very subtle ways.  She is honored and cherished, and with some adjustments over the years is happy and content with the balance as it sits.

I am a member of a spiritual group that has sought out my divine feminine self, and nourishes her.  She holds a special place in their ritual structure.  They accept the fact that She is in a male body.  They accept that when she speaks the words may be coming from a male mouth.  And they honor and cherish both the male container and the female self.  They look beyond the physical into the spiritual, and see the Creature inside for what and who she is. And all are happy and content with the balance as it sits.

In a moment of clarity while meditating about the “Z Budapest Situation” last night, I bolted out of meditative state when I heard my internal voice say the following line:

As the athame is to the male, so the chalice is to the female.

.. and I realized the inherent sexual and gender bias in that very statement and in the way the Great Rite has been played out, time and time again, in just about every Pagan tradition I’ve ever been affiliated with.  And suddenly, I’m no longer content with the balance as it sits.

In the pagan display of the Great Rite as presented here, there’s no place for transgenderism.  There’s no place for non-heterosexual intercourse.  There’s two clearly defined roles: of the athame, the male, the phallus.. and the chalice, the female, the womb.  The implications are profound.  You either have a penis, and are male.. or you have a vagina, and are female.  And the only valid display of the Great Rite is a penis inserted into a vagina.  That is the Only Sacred Thing: there is no opportunity for two athames to interact, or two chalices, or any other combination.

I don’t know where I’m going with this thought, other than I’m actually now a little bit ashamed of myself for not seeing this sooner.  And I’m left with a lingering uneasiness that maybe it is time to reclaim a new ritualization of this act.. one that accepts that human sexuality isn’t black and white, isn’t just about the Pure Male penetrating the Pure Female.  One that can accept the paradigm of homosexuality, of transgenderism, and of transhumanism.

Trust me, there will be more.

EDIT: a slight change to the wording in a couple places was made at 1:15pm for prosaic flow.

I’m going somewhere with this…

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Blu-Ray will go down in history as the last successful mass-market media distribution format. From here on out, all distribution of content will be via Internet.

It’s largely a generational thing, really. Most kids (up to people in their early 30’s, generally) seem to be pretty comfortable with electronic delivery of their content. They’re perfectly content getting the majority of their content from their game consoles’ media stores, on their iPad or phone, or from Netflix or Amazon.  The older generations are not likely to really see much advantage with any media beyond Blu-Ray.  Even now, many in the 50+ age bracket seem happy with DVD.  I know more than one person in that age range that still actively uses VHS…