Tiny Revelations: The Struggle Between my Inner Dialogue and Quest for Inner Peace

Another night and another visit from the gods. I'm so glad at least some part of my Soul talks to the gods, even if my ego has forgotten how to hear. After I called the directions and invited the ancestors/gods, I allowed myself some time to practice inner silence. The dialogue of the mind/ego that seems inexhaustible is a severe distraction and source of energy depletion in my life (and I know there are many that share this nasty habit), and really prevents me from getting to where I want to be and/or for any length of significant time in my journeys. So in collaboration with the Others, my soul gave me a dream: I was riding my motorcycle and I was in a long-distance race going through Nevada (don't ask, I don't why, I loathe Nevada.) It was going fairly well until I tried to pass some ass hat in a large truck who kept squeezing me off to prevent me from passing. I was so livid if I wasn't on the bike I'd have kicked him in the face. The 'reality' factor of the dream degraded and all of a sudden there were multiple trucks/trailers clogging up the path (wasn't really a road anymore) and I kept having to weave in and out in between them, getting more and more lost in my frustration. Somewhere between getting to my destination and a blackout for some time, I found myself floating downwards through some soupy/foggy part of myself. I stopped and began circling around laterally arranged spine, like a giant misshapen rose thorn. I intuited that that was a point in myself of irritant, a fissure even, hardened by years of repeated (albeit mild) child abuse. It represented my desire for success. You see, I had learned very early on that one of the few ways to gain love and acceptance in my family was to be successful. It didn't usually matter what at, just being the best. Drawing the best picture, playing the best piano, No Mistakes, just perfection. Kinda funny, as my mom has kept a ton of crap from when I was a kid, and I look at my 'art' from back then, and I don't see any difference between mine and other kids my age! But I thought I was better back then, and (as the spike in the dream) I became more than willing to hurt myself, even a lot, in order to be what others wanted of me, to gain that love and acceptance I so craved.

I'm learning to love myself now, and that to be a strong man (or woman) means having the fortitude to provide those things - love and acceptance - for your self despite societies' misgivings about what's acceptable. It appears, however, there are still things left over that require dismantling, as they still stand between myself and myself (preventing me from becoming whole.) They drive a wedge between my ego and soul, between my consciousness and my subconscious, between me every-day self and my inner wolf. I feel his longing to bring me unity, to allow me to become whole, and his howls in the dark corners of my heart are heard; daily calling me to wilderness.

Speaking of wilderness, perhaps later today I'll share some thoughts about the wilderness that called me to make a stand.

Time to Reflect

Before I fell asleep I called the seven directions, the ancestors, the old gods of nature, and the new gods of humanity. I dreamed again; about the old family, old friends, and about the old church members. The ancestors told me it was time to let go, to say goodbye. So I invited them all into the space I’d created, one group at a time, and said my goodbyes, with the spirits as my witness. It’s just the beginning of letting go, but it’s a good start. I have a tenacious desire, like the wolf that relentlessly stalks his prey, to travel outside my body and cross into the other side; for adventure and journey, not so much escape, but to explore and experience the world as whole, not just what my ego can see. But I’m still afraid to let go. I’ve been learning that I have a variety of strong attachments to things I didn’t realize: Attachments to the old church, family, their judgments, attachments to my own physical body; these really are ego attachments. (The ego of psychology, not egotistical.)

So how do I even loosen, much less release those attachments to my ego? Bill Plotkin in his book Soulcraft talks a lot about that. And although I haven’t got quite half way with the book, I’m pretty sure his theory is to shock the ego with something like a vision or spirit quest. It’s not about being murderous to the ego, as it’s a necessary part of our human experience, but more about disallowing the ego to run the whole show while letting it play its part. Sounds simple, and it is, but it’s also incredibly difficult to accomplish. Our society really demands ego-attention; at work, play and our daily lives, always seem to be someone telling us we need to be or do this or that, buy, buy, buy, sell, sell, sell… What about what I want? Nobody asked me that. So how do I shake the ego to put him in his place in our ego-centric society? Ah, a fear says just now, “How will you operate in ego-centric society with ego not at the wheel?” A valid question, and one I don’t know the answer to.

Another attachment is that I identify with my ego, so if he goes, what do I become? I’m not a butterfly so I’m not used to the whole metamorphose thing. The old gods say that I have to replace my identity with a more soul-centric identity; become who I am deep down whilst letting go of the hold ego has on me. The Lotus is trying to set the bud, but there’s insufficient light. Or maybe those are just leaves, but either way. Frankly, I’m afraid of who I truly am. He doesn’t fit any stereotypes, and he certainly doesn’t fit in with society. He disagrees with how everyone does business, and his couple friends know he’s at least a little crazy… It’s already hard enough to form community, even in the realm of pagan-proclaimers; they don’t understand the inner beast, or they’re afraid of exploring that part of themselves. There is no controlled environment with which to play, he wants to be free and roam the wilderness. But he’s afraid no one will join him.

I believe it was Hugh MacCleod that said, “The price of being a sheep is boredom. The price of being a wolf is loneliness. Choose one or the other with great care.” So succinct, it is moving to know that someone out there in the world feels at least an inkling of what I do. Proof that empathy does exist.

I suppose my next steps are to continue releasing my hold on ego and other attachments through self-love, taking personal responsibility for them. I have also been asked to do my best to maintain almost a 3rd-person perspective on my life in each moment, maintaining a dreamlike perspective. This is supposed to help identify what areas of my life I have attachments to and why. And, continue to flesh out the identity of my soul, because for right now, it’s a beast, howling for freedom.

Brief history of the Lonely Wolf

Before I really start diving in to who and where I am now, it may be best to pause and take a look back at the past to get a better big picture view, for the sake of relevance. I don't think my story is too uncommon, and there are definitely things that are relatable to most. I grew up in a very fundamental, Christian based religion. Put up with parents who were nothing more than kids themselves, trying to raise kids. My dad never really stopped being a big kid who never wanted to work, and my mom never really grew out of that adolescent desire for drama. Growing up I never really seemed to fit anywhere. Church never could provide me with any of the answers to our existential questions of life and beyond. You know the ones, don't pretend otherwise. And my parents certainly didn't know; it was an endless feedback loop of ask your bishop, ask your parents, ask god, read the bible or whatever. A lot of years learning to hate myself for not fitting into the mold of society and/or religion. Does anyone ever fit that mold? I really don't think so, so why do we even have it? The bishop's kids are always the worst, and the biggest hypocrites are singing the loudest praises in the front row. I was never cool enough, too smart, not strong enough, too quiet, too loud and never myself. Oh did I mention gay? It's almost like it's not a thing anymore, but it is. There are still people who are racist and there will always be people who are homophobic. Not only could I never seem to find the middle ground, I was also supposed to hate myself because of my sexuality.

Blah, blah, blah. Sound familiar? It should, we're many. Quiet. Silent sufferers who too often don't have many (or anyone) to turn to for support. Not that our society and all its advancements is really prepared to deal with the psychological damage religion (and self hatred) causes to the human psyche anyways. A post for another time, though.

My parents got divorced and because I didn't want to live with one and not the other, that side of the family shunned me. Not shunned as in, "maybe you should wait a year to come to Christmas dinner," but shunned like not a phone call or even a text. I got a letter once from the grandparents but they made it pretty clear that they blamed me for my 'bad decision' and left it at a 'that's just too bad' scenario. The church reflected their lack of support. So that's easy, leave the church = leave the family. One side down. The other side, unfortunately, needs serious therapy on all fronts. So much insecurity driven manipulation that it was just added insanity to an already emotional roller coaster.

Okay let me say this is just some background info. I'm not complaining, just stating the facts for the big picture. If it was easy I might still be another cog so I'm actually grateful for being such a terrible fit. So I got out of the church, went to another one, and realized they were pretty much all the same with different names and [sometimes] different songs. So I started looking elsewhere to fill the hole of spirituality in my life. It's been quite a journey ever since.

 I let myself get a little crazy, looked into wicca and other new-agey stuffs. What caught my attention there was overhearing a conversation about out of body experiences (obe's) and recognized too many similarities to be coincidence from childhood, dreamlike experiences I remember fairly vividly. So I started down this interesting path of self-discovery, self-acceptance and self-healing, learning about myself and techniques to do so. Come to find out, there are remnants of and very much alive, old cultures to this day that actually value a person's inner journey. After all, how can they be a productive member of their community if they can't give what they're meant to? I.E. If someone's gift (drive) is accounting, but they try to be an artist, how can they force what they're not and still be productive, and visa versa. The point being, for people to be the most productive members of their community, their true selves must by honored by the self and the members of the community. So off to find myself. I had no teachers (that we can normally see) and only books written by others; a good start but I have to recommend after reading a few, put them down and make your own path. I'm still not 'good' at meditation but practice fairly regularly. And things happen that help guide me along the way.

Early on in this journey I was really feeling a lack of father figure in my life, when in dreamtime wolf spirit came to me and told me he'd always been there, that we were inseparably connected and that he was my father-guide. I never really liked wolves before, nothing special in my mind. I would have much preferred whale as my spirit animal. But that's ok, I quickly learned to love my connection with wolf spirit. Turns out even my family name (matriarchal side) means Wolf in another language. (I found out after the fact, by the way.) It's been a bit of a rough road though, most of the European pagan history was wiped out with the Christian invasion, and as for the Native American side, well I'm not Native American. So who do I talk to about this part of me? For now, I let wolf teach me as I go. Although not so much recently, I used to frequently shift into a wolf in dreamtime, among other animals, and was allowed to experience brief moments from the animals' points of view. Turns out that's really handy, because the human perspective can be incredibly limited if we let it, and we do. So I started letting the beast out more and more, little by little, until I've really found myself at a crossroads; to let the beast of my soul be strong and grow, some attachment(s) to society have to die. I still don't know what I have to offer my community, and don't really even have a community yet to offer to. I gave up a great job along the way to be able to move where the wild lands call to me more clearly, and they're more accessible, but what good am I on my own? Now I feel it's time to take a plunge into my own soul like I never have before. I visited Utah a while back and picked up a book called Soulcraft by Bill Plotkin, and only recently started reading it. It's definitely the right time for me, and I'll definitely be blogging about how those passages resonate with what I'm experiencing right now in my own life.

Let out the beast tonight, maybe we'll find each other in dreamtime. Heed the call of the wilderness.

*Wild Dog by Corinne Reid

Check out her art, it's amazing. Buy some prints, buy some shirts, support artists.

Corinne's Website

Humble Beginnings

Sometimes the beginning is the most difficult part: The blank paper staring back at the painter, his palette of watercolors quivering with anticipation to bleed into the fibers and each other. The sheet of music staring back at the composer, a myriad of notes, chords and scales thirsting for their time to sound in dissonance and resolve. I must remember that before the paper is mounted, or the blank music sheets are opened, before the paint quivers or the notes thirst, there is always another beginning; an indefinable point within ourselves that could cry out in passion, pain, longing, joy or an indescribable number and combination of inspirational visions who must take physical form, and so often directs their birth through any myriad of mediums into physical manifestation.

So often I wish for that manifestation to be smelt, heard, seen, felt and/or tasted by another, to share my own life. But what if that indefinable point wants to express something that the architects of civilization deem reprehensible, evil or down right naughty? With whom do I share my wildness; when that indefinable soul within me inextricably desires to read tarot cards for a living, sit naked in the quiet forest or just howl at the moon and invite the spirits of the old gods to teach me something new, in whom can I confide?

In part, this blog is here for me to put those thoughts, feelings and desires into the world in a fashion that takes relatively little time and that I can do when/wherever a computer is convenient. In part, this blog is here for me to let out the howl and tell you, wherever you are, that I’ve got something to share. And just maybe, someone will get it; like the Lone Wolf who howls at the night to find his mate, his friends, his pack, perhaps mine will be listening.

I would also like to simultaneously begin with what this blog is not. This is not a furry-finder blog, and there is no role-play here. When I talk about my inner animal or inner beast I am literally referring to that inexorably wild part of myself, and my relationship to the spirits, including the animal spirits, I meet on my journeys through life. Doesn’t mean I’m hating on furries or role players, I’m just letting you know upfront what I’m not representing in my correspondences here. I’ve found a serious lack of the ‘real deal’ discussions online and decided to start one of my own. And before you ask me if I’ve checked out the myriad of social networking sites devoted to pagans, new agers or meetups, the answer is yes, and I reply: have you? Gotta sift through a lot of shit to find a handful of truly open-minded and supportive people. And I mean I could count them on one hand. You might be surprised (or not) by how many astral-travelers, out of body new agers and/or pagans that get a blank stare when you ask them if they often shapeshift into beasts during their journeys in dreamtime. It’s a lonely world and an unorganized community. Not to mention full of drama-crazies, or people who want your wallet and then some before they ‘guide’ you to their version of the other side.

Now for what this blog definitely is and what it may become: Due to my distaste and dissatisfaction with the caliber and quality of people professing to be open to and/or practitioners of some form of psycho-spiritual awareness (be it neo-shamanism, wiccan, druid, reconstructionist, the list goes on), and due to the fact that I just moved to this place from about 1000 miles away less than 2 years ago, I have only a couple good friends, and I doubt our relationships have developed to a point, and may never, where we can have the types of discussions I intend on putting on my blog. As these discussions are about my real self, and are the deepest parts of me, having none to share with creates a supreme loneliness, so I turn to the blog and internet communities. Perhaps someone out there is going through a similar situation, will hear the howl to commune, and under the darkness of email create community. Maybe they even happen to be nearby and someday we meet under the darkness of getting a coffee. Lol. I hope this community hears the call and finds itself. If my blog inspires you or becomes the source, so be it. I will not, however, put too many limitations on it as it also must serve as a medium to express myself in the meantime.

So hear’s howlin’ at you PDX, may we find ourselves and each other.