Of course, I think I know why I don't talk much about it. I think a lot of it has to do with how much I try to appear serious.
There's a constant, ongoing struggle for me, really. The grey of the boring, mundane world closes in around me, and I start to drown. I wasn't made for this kind of a life, really, living from paycheck to paycheck, month to month, and being tied to a real schedule.
I'm not sure what exactly I was made for, but I expect it had something to do with sandy beaches and distant reaches (and, while I'm rhyming, let's throw in a few lovely Georgia peaches). Even if it doesn't have to do with all that, though, it's fun to think it does.
Anyway, those who saw my little strip show (also known as the Chaos Magic workshop I did for the Pagan Student Association) got a taste of that part of me.
It's the part that pushes the envelope, not because the envelope needs pushing, but because it's there. I've been told it's a dangerous game, but it's also an exhilarating one.
I've mentioned before that I do at least one Chaos Magic (CM) working per day. It can take an entire night, three hours, or a split second. I don't usually share the results or the performance with anyone, because it's kind of a personal thing. Occasionally I let people know the results (you've all seen my conversations with Eris), and I have (rarely) asked a few others to help me with the a working.
But no matter how I slice it, I cut this part of my life off from the rest of it. It's really a small part (it has to be for me to function fully), but it's an important part.
It's the side of me that's really, truely free. It's the side that I don't show Tina, because it's not something she'd be into. It's the side that I question the sanity of.
One morning a few weeks ago, I was working through a Chaos exercise. It was a fairly simple one that I'd been holding off on, mainly because I like a challenge, and I didn't think this one would offer much of a real challenge. Little did I know that I was in for a hell of a ride because of this.
The object of the working was well defined, and the process was simple, but it lead me through doors and vortices I never imagined I would even see, let alone open.
To be continued. . .
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V
Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII