deG’s notes on the dark heart remind me of my anger issues and lets me remember I want to express my anger far more assertively and calmly (rage is not the answer—rage is me not expressing my feelings to the point that they explode. And I was taught never to express feelings others might find an imposition. But I should not cast away my anger—anger tells me when I have been wronged, or when I feel angry about how others are treated.)
I feel off today—running north and south—aligning helps,—actually, aligning is what I want. Anxiety hit me on the way to [po’dunk town] yesterday, anxiety about dealing with _______’s family. But I also feel anxious (and a bit of dread) about the coming [workload at work]. I’ve been trying to push the anxiety to the side rather than deal with it. Also, [other reasons]. Anxiety is one of my chief forms of halthaya; it forms mûl-ôl and encourages those hurur that define themselves in terms of anxiety or who respond to (even feel) anxiety. It, anxiety, often fuels my anger.
When I call a thread, a curtain, a shower of Luin faentaur onto me, into me, I focus and I feel […] me, self-possessed.
I may also have some seasonal affective disorder as the seasons turn—light and wind and night and outside help—
I want to do art and watercolor and make circles and more—I want to go for a stroll, I think, and maybe I’ll go after dark.
And other times, I feel the Otherworlds closer, think I can see them—in flashes,—more clearly than I can here. (Here, There—words to define)
Earth and the Otherworlds.
Our reflections are important—I had a thought the other day about Lacanian magical thinking, hell, Deleuzian desiring machines attached to us as spirits, demons, and personality-phages. But I remember the author of Brave Sparrow talking of how we want reflections, mirrors of ourselves, things to look into to see ourselves as we imagine or feel ourselves. So I think about my mirrors and how I want to make betters, but my reflection is not me—and that’s something I think we forget. The reflection/mirror self becomes another hurur—but, well, that metaphor traps us in the mirror. Reflections staring at ourselves. Passive images of ourselves. Action and performance—
—ask yourself what you actually lack, what you want and will and probe that despair.