Monthly Archives: May 2013

Call for Submissions: Prayers to the Allfather

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Saka Dawa, or not.

Yesterday was the most holy day in Buddhism, generally recognized as the date of his birth, enlightenment, and parinirvana (bodily death of an enlightened being). There are various things you can do; I had made plans for a nyung nä. 

That utterly did not pan out. 

Part of the ceiling collapsed. Literally. 

By the time the handyman left, the day was over, according to the time in India, which I’m recommended to observe holidays by, time-wise. 

Roots.

I sent this to someone I am commissioning some important items from, while asking for an update on the project.

The spring has been running hot and cold here, but at least we had the time to enjoy some of our favorite flowers, and we’re looking forward to seeing what happens with the butterfly and hummingbird seed mixes we sowed.

Our bleeding heart has been completely astounding this year. It grows beside one of the plants that has the dominant spirit of the land attached to it. Their energy seems to blend together well, which no one predicted when we planted it. She (the dominant land spirit) seems more peaceful with him beside her, tangled with her roots.

I had never thought much about it, but they do seem to be a mated pair, now. Foolish of me to not think about, honestly. Everything loves, and wants to be loved, and how fortunate we are when we find someone we can love and be loved by.

One of the oracles Brand received this month was to never neglect his friendship with me. It was never in danger, but they thought it should be emphasized.

We don’t talk about it, because honestly our lives are so much all over the place that it seems superfluous to bring it up, but we became a couple some time ago. Everyone who knew us well was so thoroughly unsurprised that I think we were the last to know we were in love with each other.

We ground each other. And are each other’s safe harbor, I think. He was told by the oracle that they thought it might be because we were both important to each other’s spiritual path, and that is certainly true. We support each other. Our roots tangle together.

The ring for my Work arrived the other day. I like it. Freyr likes it. I certainly can’t wear it every day; it’s too wide between my fingers, dismantling Brand’s theory that I’d been secretly corralled into buying a wedding ring.

Buddhism commitments and plans

I needed to pick someone up from the hospital, and they had some minor complications, so instead of leaving at 2, we left at 5. After I took them home, the earliest I could’ve gotten to class was half an hour after it started, and since I was sick last week, I’ll apparently need to take the entire class over later. Irritating, but that’s not exactly a difficult choice to have made.

I found out that one of my other programs wants me to start on the 100,000 prostrations and 100,000 Vajrasattva mantras as soon as possible, instead of waiting until much later, like another of them does.

(These are prerequisites for practicing tantra, later. There are some other things you’re supposed to do 100,000 times, but I suppose it depends on the lineage — if I can get away without making 100,000 Buddha statues, I would be especially grateful. The materials alone, I don’t know how I can afford.)

I emailed them to ask what their preferred adjustment to prostration procedure would be for someone whose body does not work in certain ways.

I have some plants to put in the garden today or tomorrow. I would rather do it tomorrow, because I hurt, currently, but I’m subject to the whims of others. Whichever day I do it, I will bring out an offering.

I have a lot of recorded things to catch up on. Prey to exhaustion, lately, and very poor sleep. Waking up five or six times seems about average.

Monday is excruciatingly busy and zigzagging around town on the train and on foot, plus carrying home groceries. Meaning I really need to get caught up this weekend, because on Tuesday and Wednesday, I will be preoccupied with exhaustion.

Once one starts the prostrations and mantras, one is supposed to do a bare minimum every day to keep the flow of it going. So I’ll need to get all of that sorted out, too, and have my base things set up for the days I can hardly think straight, and the much more involved days for when I am doing much better.

I imagine if I were some sort of BNP, someone would want to know what Freyr thinks of all of this, which is a very large time commitment, for a long period of time (it would take a few months each in a retreat situation, where you are not doing anything else, and about 9 months for someone working very hard at it at home, and longer for other people, so even if I work extremely hard at it, this is going to be at least a year of huge blocks of time).

I was Buddhist when he met me, and I never had any intention of altering that, and he never made any suggestions about changing it. It would’ve been a deal-breaker.

Which horrifies some people; you’re “supposed” to throw away absolutely everything that has ever meant anything to you in your entire life as soon as a god knocks on your head. Some gods demand that, but assuming they all do is rather foolish, and even if they do demand that, there is generally a period of time where you have some way in your own future.

A lot of people don’t try to negotiate their commitments, which is both a sad and a frightening situation to me. They leap into marriage and god-slavery and lifetime commitments without thinking about anything past tomorrow, or “Yay, this god I think is hot is into me!”

I don’t know if I derive some benefit from being in my thirties, having lots of boring responsibilities, being disillusioned about fairytale romances, or from having been in abusive relationships and learning boundaries as a way to save my own life, but I’m extremely disinterested in jumping into anything or making any promises that I haven’t examined from every possible angle and had someone else examine, and if I am going to do something that I cannot, for some reason, walk away from, I am going to think about it for a damn long time first.

Buddhism is not without its rigid commitments.

Ah, we’re having a thunderstorm, now. The plants will have to go into the soggy ground tomorrow.

I should listen to my classes, though I want to curl up with him and listen to the rain.

There’s nothing I can do about you

Bleeding Hearts

The above is a personal photo with all rights reserved.

I remember the day that I accepted that I was in love with him. It was the day before I had to suddenly sort out all of my romantic life and where I was living on whichever plane of existence.

But before that, before everything became complicated, I had one of the few moments in my life when I felt completely happy. It felt like it would burst through my skin.

Brand has been cheerfully planning my wedding, with or without me. Before I’d had more than one conversation with Freyr. I have not decided how I feel about this. Commitment to relatively mortal beings doesn’t frighten me, but commitment to a god is a little overwhelming.

I haven’t felt bothered or nervous at all about the Work I’ve been given, though I finally got the full-on skeptical eyebrow face from someone about it yesterday. Despite being similarly aware that if I abandoned my Work, it would also not be good. But the Work demands so much less than a spouse. I can have things come up and need to reschedule. You can’t reschedule people very well — I should know, by now: Freyr is extremely difficult to reschedule and heavily dislikes it.

At least if I am completely exhausted and he wants to see me, holding me while I sleep seems to make him happy. I spend at least a couple of nights every week sandwiched between him and Brand like that. Brand, perpetually tired, here. I, little better. Freyr, never tired.

I did notice I’d been herded into buying a ring, but it’s fairly unsuitable outside of Work. It isn’t something I can leave on all of the time, and wash my hands, shower, etc.

“It could be an engagement ring!” Brand chirps in with.

“I’m pretty sure it’s part of the official outfit,” I respond wearily. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense as anything else, honestly. It’s too… him-as-god, not him-as-boyfriend/spouse.”

“Do they separate?”

“Thankfully.”

“What kind of wedding ring would you like?”

“Did he put you up to this, or is this just your meddling?”

“Meddling.”

What is important is that when we are together and things are quiet (it actually happens sometimes), I feel comfortable and I want to stay. I don’t want it to stop. There are days that I hate getting out of bed, not because of my lifelong depression, but because I feel safe on a level deep enough that I do not have to actually think, “I feel safe.” Or “I feel peaceful.” I feel like what I imagine cats feel like when they’re sleeping curled up with another cat in the sun.

Or otters, who hold hands when they sleep so they don’t drift apart with the tides.