woo woo on a tuesday.

my house needs spring. the energy is sucking me dry, i can't shake the virus that keeps going around. i feel stuck. i feel tired. i am not sleeping well.

i'd like to throw open the doors and the windows and let spring in!

but, it's freezing here and if i leave any entrance open i'll have a plethora of tasty rodent snacks to choose from lovingly brought to me by the kitties. (who are now full grown cats! eeek!)

so with the boybarians off to the dentist with the lord of the ring, i found an old unburnt smudge stick, dusted it off and smudged my house.

it's funny how it all comes back. the smells the chants the pulling out of seemingly nowhere some hope for cleansing. for renewal.

i thought of the desert where i once lived and where this very smudge stick came from.

i fanned the smoke to each corner and twirled it around each room. filling the house with love and light and blessings and a hell of a lot of really good smelling smoke.

i wondered briefly what the watchers who prowl the military base frontage road in my backyard would see should they care to focus their binoculars close enough.

today is tuesday, milk day. would the milk man come while i was chanting and burning and fanning?

the neighbor?

with a ton of windows and virtually no curtains, anyone could have quite a show. it's a good thing i was never into going skyclad.

i'm just glad the cats weren't in the house. i don't need them watching me.

the thing about spirituality is that it's so personal. and as such, an audience is the last thing many of us want. to be witnessed at your most engaged and perhaps vulnerable? not for me.

in a mood such as this i prefer my spirituality like i prefer my whiskey, straight up and alone. i like to have my thoughts and voice them without a greek chorus wondering or commenting or watching.

what? don't tell me you've never drunk whiskey straight up and talked to yourself out loud on occasion? try it, it's better than therapy. (i'd close the curtains first for that, though. tack up a sheet, or something)

so i don't know if the military or the milk man or the neighbor saw anything.

but i do know my house smells an awful lot like something good and sweet. and that if you dropped by and didn't know better, well you'd think there was a party going on at 9:43 on a tuesday morning.

x.