Brigit's Day, 2007

It felt like Springtime on this February morning
in a churchyard, birds were singing your praise

Today is February second, a plethora of holidays. It's the feast day of my favorite goddess, Brigit, or Bridget, or however you like to spell it. She was the triple goddess of the hearth, of poetry, and of smithcraft. On my altar today are four candles, fire in each direction, honoring the passion and holy majesty inherent in each element, each form of the divine, each decision we make, every step of every day, along the journey.

I feel so high but I am not above that sorrow
heavy-hearted, till you call my name
And it sounds like church bells,
or the whistle of a train on a summer evening
I run to meet you barefoot, barely breathing

It feels as though everything concrete in my life is up in the air right now. The intangible things are solid - my relationships, my sense of self, my feelings of openness and connectedness - and some would say that these are the most important things in life. Maybe that's true, but in classic Virgo fashion, it stresses me to not have the structure, the plans, the schedule. I need to feel, or at least be able to somehow be reassured of, the solid bedrock beneath this river of life that seems to be carrying me along at moderate pace. Fast enough that I know I'm getting somewhere, but slow enough that I have plenty of time to ruminate on the journey, and imagine all possible scenarios. Just slow enough to make me twitchy.

Our wedding plans are stalled until G and I can get a better hold on our financial standings this year. At this moment, I'm feeling calm and positive. Two nights ago, however, I was crying, telling G that I don't know why we need to have a wedding at all, that we have limitations that we need to work within, and that what I want most is not a wedding, but a baby. I am still torn. There are some who say that, when you are unsure of which step to take, the best thing to do is stand still. Unfortunately, when it comes to having children, I have reached an age where, if I don't move soon, I may not be able to at all. I get arguments on that a lot, but there are things a woman knows about her body, about herself. I don't have much time. I'll be 36 this year.

G confessed to me that sometimes, when he's driving home from work, he curses the universe for taking so long to do it's part, to cough up the supposed fruit that all my labors should bear. Another friend remarked to me that for as long as he's known me - which is years - my life has been about waiting for things. Waiting for papers to be processed. Waiting to finish school. Waiting for test results. Waiting for a check to come. Waiting, waiting, waiting. He's right. And I say patience is not my virtue? I'm better at it than I like to admit.

G also mentioned that every time I seem to be at a place where something's going to happen for me, some obstacle pops up and I have to wait another few months. First it was school not ending as soon as it was supposed to. Then it was the licensing exam, which was a few days later than we'd planned. If I'd gotten a job and had to take a day off, that could have posed a problem. Now we find out that the test results will take eight weeks to produce, rather than the four to six we'd been previously told. The goal gets farther and farther into the future. The end of the tunnel keeps receding.

My prolonged unemployment is taking a palpable toll on our plans for the rest of our life together. No wedding, no baby, no new apartment, no new car. (Now is most definitely the winter of my Buick's discontented years.) All I need is an income. We've been saying for the last two years that "Something will come up any day now!"

As I lay me down to sleep
This I pray
That you will hold me dear
Though I'm far away
I'll whisper your name
Into the sky
And I will wake up happy

Apparently the company that interviewed me last week is still interested in me. The HR position I was hoping for is out of the question, but there is another spot that I'm still in the running for. This second spot is nowhere near as interesting to me as HR. It's in sales, which I loathe, but I'm open to meeting the Department Director. I may, or I may not, have another interview next week. When I'm thinking clearly, it matters very little to me, since I still think something will come up any day now. I just have to stay positive, and keep looking.

Slam is passing through my town tonight on the way home from a business trip. I'm looking forward to a nice meal with a good friend. There's absolutely nothing in the world that's better than a nice meal with a good friend.

Lavender and sage are sacred to Brigit. Last night I made a decadent cup of Vosges Bianca Cocoa, scented with lavender, and it warmed and soothed me from top to toes. This morning I put sage in my egg whites. I'm trying to be good to myself, to be mindful, to be gentle, and to simply think throughout the day, how am I living the hymn I wrote for Brigit three years ago? How can I better embody these words?

Holy Mother, I will try to be more like you
I will work to heal and build and love the way you do
I will let your healing hands be my hands
I will let your loving words flow through me
I will try to feel you and know what you would do
Holy Lady Brigit, hear my prayer.

I do my best. I think this is what led me to massage school. It leads me to express myself in rather colorful language at the most surprising of times. Just leaving the doors open in my heart has allowed the most amazing gifts to blow in on the breeze, ideas and feelings and things to say that I never would have imagined I had inside me. I do my best to Be.

I haven't seen the Morrigan in a long time, and I have to say, I miss her. I could use a cheerleader on some days, someone to push me, to remind me that I have teeth and claws and am not to be trifled with. But there are no enemies at the gate right now... it's just empty. I look around me and see a vast, open plain. I'm not in the deep forest anymore. I'm not at the bottom of the ocean. I'm not walled in against a swirling hoarde of danger, and I'm not in the midst of a battle. I'm just riding. The road is long ahead and long behind, and around me I see... nothing. The Morrigan would be bored here.

So I ride. And make sandwiches. And ride.