more @#$%@# physical metaphors
Sep. 27th, 2005 01:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chelidonSunday night the Casa Chaos denizens were sitting in front of a lovely toasty fire in the hearth, doing part 2 of our Equinox work -- talking about where we needed balance, what we planned to do over the coming months to achieve that, asking one another for specific things we felt we needed to help us in our work, and so on. Hearth magic is some of the most deeply powerful work I know, if the hearth, and the home, is healthy and strong. Hearth work builds up over time, year after year. You don't say anything in front of the hearth that you don't really mean, that you don't really, truly want to happen, particularly with witnesses there...
So entering this liminal period between Equinox and Samhain, we're sitting and talking about balance, about simplifying, about using the harvest you have and carefully setting aside some of the rest for the future, before it all spoils and rots away, no use to anyone. About looking closely at what really matters, about letting go, about dealing with loss and grief. One of my Lovely Housemates burned paperwork that had to do with her dead partner, with his accident, and with the house she had bought with him just before he died, and had sold just before moving up here. Getting balance, remembering the past and looking to the future, making space, cleaning house, and preparing for a new year to come.
Immediately afterwards, one of my Lovely Housemates called me into the pantry, and we found that something (moths, I believe) had gotten in and infested some open pancake flour, and from there gotten into a whole bunch of stuff that was on all of the upper shelves, and even into some things that were sealed with plastic bags or plastic wrap -- they can eat small holes in the plastic, it seems. So there are nasty wormy squirmy vermin in all kinds of things including...oh, gods. The chocolate. Those little buggers made a beeline for every single block of chocolate in the pantry. And we had a lot, mostly commercial-sized slabs -- we're serious about chocolate hereabouts. Over 25 pounds of Ghirardelli chocolate alone, pretty much the entire supply -- white, dark, milk chocolate, including one huge 10-lb slab, now crawling with worms under the plastic wrap. Bleah. I'm not particularly squeemish, thank goodness, but I think I felt more sorrow over tossing out all that chocolate than over having had one of my major regular freelance gigs evaporate on Friday. Dammit. And one of my Lovely Housemates and myself then cleaned out the entire pantry from top to bottom, tossing out (composting) everything that was infested or just old and stale, taking inventory of everything that was left (still an awful lot of food, spices, etc).
Use it or let it go, even things of great sweetness have their time to be tossed away, harvest when it's time and plow the rest under, pay attention to what's left undone and open, lest it rot and ruin other things as well, and so on and so on. But they ATE ALL THE CHOCOLATE! Dammit.
Grrrr. *sigh* Breathe. Hmmph.
Now I need to go out and buy more chocolate.
[EDIT: my partner just came home with a bar of Newman's Own Sweet Dark Espresso organic chocolate for me. *blissful sigh* :>]
So entering this liminal period between Equinox and Samhain, we're sitting and talking about balance, about simplifying, about using the harvest you have and carefully setting aside some of the rest for the future, before it all spoils and rots away, no use to anyone. About looking closely at what really matters, about letting go, about dealing with loss and grief. One of my Lovely Housemates burned paperwork that had to do with her dead partner, with his accident, and with the house she had bought with him just before he died, and had sold just before moving up here. Getting balance, remembering the past and looking to the future, making space, cleaning house, and preparing for a new year to come.
Immediately afterwards, one of my Lovely Housemates called me into the pantry, and we found that something (moths, I believe) had gotten in and infested some open pancake flour, and from there gotten into a whole bunch of stuff that was on all of the upper shelves, and even into some things that were sealed with plastic bags or plastic wrap -- they can eat small holes in the plastic, it seems. So there are nasty wormy squirmy vermin in all kinds of things including...oh, gods. The chocolate. Those little buggers made a beeline for every single block of chocolate in the pantry. And we had a lot, mostly commercial-sized slabs -- we're serious about chocolate hereabouts. Over 25 pounds of Ghirardelli chocolate alone, pretty much the entire supply -- white, dark, milk chocolate, including one huge 10-lb slab, now crawling with worms under the plastic wrap. Bleah. I'm not particularly squeemish, thank goodness, but I think I felt more sorrow over tossing out all that chocolate than over having had one of my major regular freelance gigs evaporate on Friday. Dammit. And one of my Lovely Housemates and myself then cleaned out the entire pantry from top to bottom, tossing out (composting) everything that was infested or just old and stale, taking inventory of everything that was left (still an awful lot of food, spices, etc).
Use it or let it go, even things of great sweetness have their time to be tossed away, harvest when it's time and plow the rest under, pay attention to what's left undone and open, lest it rot and ruin other things as well, and so on and so on. But they ATE ALL THE CHOCOLATE! Dammit.
Grrrr. *sigh* Breathe. Hmmph.
Now I need to go out and buy more chocolate.
[EDIT: my partner just came home with a bar of Newman's Own Sweet Dark Espresso organic chocolate for me. *blissful sigh* :>]
