sifting through

i can feel tinges of a cold front and the clouds have dampened the sunlight. i realize again that i have allowed myself to slip away from my magick. seems there are too many distractions. this past thursday i tried so hard to grasp the tenebrous core of thanksgiving, but it vaporized between my fingers. i lost it to a football game and laziness and the overwhelming presence of christmas. and to traditions that have seldom held much meaning. and to stuff. lots of stuff.

yesterday i tried to decorate for the new season. i succeeded only in a garland of greens on top of the bookshelf, and the promise of a doorhanger for the wreath. i realize that without intending to, i have integrated the pentacle into my wreath through the central star. i'm finding ways to celebrate yule instead of christmas, though i cannot entirely escape christmas with a family of mormons. it's all the same, really, and i have no problem with the celebration of christmas. mother and child, new hope from the darkness. peace on earth and good will to all. there's just so much stuff. extraneous, irrelevant, unnecessary clutter. santa claus and elves and presents and so much consumer garbage. once again i am craving simplicity that i can't have this year because of the haze of christmas expectations. always the consumer rage for possessions that muddles up our ability to see the real, the integral, the consummate. and i drop headlong into it just as often - which is when i slip from my focus on magick and the essentials of human existence.

it's like my altar, right now, cluttered with the paraphernalia of allergy relief and general malaise. it's embarrassing, and i have to admit i have neglected magick because i'm so unwilling to tidy up the altar. seriously. my whole room is ashambles because i keep getting mired by my distracted attention to the periphery crap. i can't do anything of real value because i've allowed my space to become a mass of scattered intention.

my husband is getting dressed for church. though he says i make my own decisions about what i do, i know he's upset about my decision not to go. i know he wants me to decide once more in favor of the church. it's ingrained in him. it's part of the missionary mode. and for him, the missionary is the epitome of spiritual elevation. i have to agree, that a person who devotes two years to spreading a message of faith has considerable spiritual power. i just wish he wouldn't compare himself to those two years all the time. time as a way of airbrushing events into seeming perfection. and missionaries remind me of shepherds. gathering in the flocks from the various places into one determined gateway. no room or time for possible differences. missionaries are great; i honor their devotion; i just wish the border collie habits would end once the herding ends.

he asks if i am struggling with my faith in god. which is ironic, because i have, in reality, gained more faith. the parameters cause the trouble. the closed-minded single-vision of truth causes the trouble. it's not god i'm struggling with, it's man's depiction of god. don't stray, don't look around, keep your attention focused entirely on this view of god, because everything else is wrong and will destroy you. it strips the legitimacy away from other beliefs and causes people to fear or resent other faiths.

people are told "i could tell that the spirit wasn't there" about other churches. you go with the preconceived expectation that you will feel a recognizable lack of the spirit, rather than being open to the spirit that is there. it's the same spirit, the same god, the same intention - what lack should there be? we spend so much time segregating ourselves from others that we fail to recognize what binds us all.

we're preoccupied by rosters and attendance and income. we compare ourselves to other churches/beliefs based on how many of us there are in relation to how many of you there are. i could care less how big a church is getting. but the money is in the membership, and the prestige is in the membership, and - oddly enough - the truth is proven by the membership. all these people believe it, it must be true.

but. i am not arguing against a truth. because humans lead, the edges of truth become a little blurry. certain things must become concrete in order to maintain some semblance of order. often, the superficial solidifies into standard and the core, the unwavering reality of it, lies hidden underneath the shell. this core unites all - it is the scarlet thread weaving through every faith binding us together. the human relationship with divinity. the rituals, the names, the aspects that we use as designation change based on our needs and our circumstances. but the core reality remains.

to that core reality i cling for refuge. to the simplicity of the child to the mother, the lover to the beloved, i cling. in its various forms, aspects, names and designations, i search for its luminous presence.