Eternal Truths

Hello, all!

I know I’m a little behind the times on this because this happened a few days ago, but I was on the phone with my friend and we were discussing religion.

I talked a bit about how my Mormon upbringing caused me to shame myself practically for existing, and he said that the way I was taught frankly terrified him. Christian doctrine is supposed to be about love, but so often it gets turned inwards in a negative way into shame, guilt, and fear. It also gets used as a weapon to hurt others. He said that he wished I could have been taught in a different way. I don’t know if it would have helped, though. I was deep in that mindset, and I don’t know what would have changed.

Something does ring true, though – the love of others, much like the religious testimony of others, cannot carry one through the hard times. That can only come from oneself. I’m not one to love myself unconditionally, but I’m working on it. It’s a slow process that partly comes down to fear – I fear that I will become vain and conceited if I learn to love myself. This is coupled with a mistaken belief that my self hatred is humility, that being teachable implies that I am inherently deserving of punishment and harsh treatment. All of this creates walls between me and the responsibility I hope to fulfill – loving myself for who I am, what I can do, and who I can become.

I know that we are loved by the divine, whatever it may be – God, universe, other deities, however that manifests for you – and that there are no accidents. These two principles, the first of which I refer to as the Great Constant, are what I would call eternal truths. They never will cease to be true, and never have ceased to be true. We are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves (that goes both ways, love yourself as you love your neighbor, as well) and love the divine with all we have. Too often are these truths warped and perverted into something that can be used as a weapon, but here’s some food for thought. In love, there is no room for fear. Not even fear as a tool. If we love perfectly, we will not succumb to fear.

This is something I need to work on. I’m very much a scaredy-human and I need to be more courageous. None of us can love perfectly and there are always things to improve on.

And the world would have us believe that we are without hope, that all is lost, that we have nothing left to live for. As a people, as a species, we have run ourselves so thoroughly into the ground that there is no escape. Christians use the term “fallen” to describe our world. I would say “broken.”

Everyone looks so hard for themselves in other things that are not where they should look. I’m guilty. We’re selfish, we’re greedy, we’re cruel, we fall short of the mark of love. But there are so many things you will find that we do accomplish as a people if you’re looking for the helpers. It’s easy to spot the horrors, the bad, the ugly in the world. That does not require much courage.

It is far more courageous to look at the world and see the goodness in it. Of course, there is bad to be acknowledged, but don’t let that be all you see. It’s more courageous to say to yourself, “I will do my best to be happy. Not for anyone else’s sake but my own. For my own sanity and mental clarity, I will feed my mind good things, I will do good things, I will care for myself and for the world.”

If you find yourself in a dark place, be kind to yourself. Do your best to see what it is you need and fulfill that need, caring for yourself as you would your neighbor and caring for your neighbor as yourself. Self care is preached far and wide these days, but it’s not always chocolate or a warm bath. Sometimes it’s getting out of the house, finally doing those chores, running that errand that’s bothering you, or even asking for help. Still others it’s getting out of your own head and helping another child of the universe. Look inside yourself and see what you need, not always what you want. Then, ask for what you need. You will be answered.

Self care looks different for everyone. My self care looks different from my friends’ who are overworked and overwhelmed. I need more on my mind sometimes, so I keep busy to the best of my ability. They need less on their plate, so they care for themselves in different ways. I think that self-care should be called by the name we should use if we are doing it properly: healing.

A broken leg requires time to heal. The loss of someone close to you requires time to heal. Sometimes we need to heal from our days, too. Sometimes we need to heal from stress and the effects that the every day has on us.

This is where I try to make room for spiritual things. This centers me and I feel at peace when I connect to something higher in a way that I would not normally. I write in my journal, I ask my spirit guide questions (more on her next time), I try and make sense of the world around me using a higher, more eternal perspective. I hate this cliche phrase, but it rings true – “this, too, shall pass.” The bad things will go away someday. I don’t know when. But good things are around the corner, too. This practice of meditative thinking is helping me stay sane and grounded even as I am surrounded by stress and despair.

In the end, all change starts with me, and if I want to help others like I want to, I must first make sure that I myself am okay. So I feed my soul good things.

What are you doing to feed your soul good things?

Let me know in the comments!

~Mago

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In Absence

Hello, everyone!

I feel like crap because I have not been writing here a lot. I need to get back into things. When the sad rears its ugly head, I tend to shrink back in some ways. I also have many things to say and not many ways to say them.

I’ve tried writing about this before, but it never came out right. I scrapped the idea as a result and have not returned to it.

I don’t think I’m a full Christian, at least not in the traditional sense of the word and as far as orthodox beliefs go. Christianity is a very orthodoxy-dependent faith and I don’t check all of the boxes, you know? I don’t have the correct beliefs. This has been causing me some form of distress because I am up in the air about a lot of things. My long standing belief system and how I see the world is up for debate now, and that’s scary.

I also think my beliefs fall in line with a structure of something like witchcraft, which is readily adaptable to any system. (yes, there are Christian witches, they do not do evil things by default). I would not use this system for villainy, but I do feel called to it for good things. I don’t know the nature of my Higher Power anymore, but I do believe that they are a life force found in everything that can be tapped into if one is ready. I don’t feel quite ready to turn from the idea of a traditional God yet for fear of punishment, mostly from my friends/family as a whole. Hell doesn’t scare me, being unorthodox doesn’t scare me. My family, however, does. What my husband would say does scare me. But such is life, I suppose. I can either live in fear and never reach my full potential, or I can sit with the fear, overcome it, and use it for my good. Today, I am choosing to overcome fear. So as it stands, I am not tied to the idea of any one deity or even deities. If something reveals itself, I will jump for it, but for now, I’m trying to align myself with that life force. It’s rather freeing to realize that one does not have to believe one way or another so long as one is pursuing the good.

When did this start?

Well…

Ten or eleven days ago, two of my closest friends saw a psychic. The psychic had many things to say about us three (them + me) and said to explore our power because we are three witches come to help heal the Earth.

This is a very basic summary of what went on, but my thought process is that, crazy though it may sound, it could be true. It doesn’t promote evil (the sent here to do good is very telling) and that was the first test I ran it through. There are also many things that have gone on in the past five years that are too coincidental to be accidents, if that makes sense. It all adds up in ways I did not think was possible.

So we are to get in touch with our spiritual side if we want this to work, and that is what I have been doing. It’s a very long, confusing process, but I think it will be worth it. I also have a niche for B + BD now, in other words.

More to come.

Until next post,

Mago (which means wizard in Spanish)

What Am I Doing?

Hello, all!

My husband is on his way home from work and I’m trying not to sleep. Evening naps are very strange because I have the strangest dreams when I nap after about 3 PM. It’s almost 6 PM, so naps are not an option. Knowing this, I’ve decided to spend the waiting time doing something I have neglected – writing here.

I was talking to the amazing Stacey from LittleCatchUp.co.uk about blogging and creating content. I told her about how I struggle with creating content because I feel pressured to make it good. Her reply was “Remember anything you write can help someone.” That helped immensely. I seem to have forgotten about the power of touching one person.

I have written countless times about the power of touching one person, and that’s something that I need to remember now more than ever as I am marketing Sockesthesia Custom Socks, my sock company. I have realized that the best connections I make in business and in life are forged one on one, not in large batches or even in a group. All of the orders Sockesthesia has had to date are custom orders. None of these custom requests look alike. That says a lot about the nature of the company and how individualized I want it to be. The power of reaching one person is immense.

Awhile ago, I set a goal to touch one person’s life every day. One person, that is all. If I can do that and that that alone, I have had a successful day. Lately I’ve been going away from that goal and wanting approval from the masses. It’s not gotten me very far. My interactions one on one are the most fulfilling I have. There are few things more important than someone who needs a kind word or a good action. I love my tutoring for that reason. I get to touch more lives than I realize, perhaps, and it’s one of the most rewarding things in my life.

In the end, I think it all comes down to love and kindness. I’m not the best at these all the time. I’m human, and I’m working on it. The love we share to the world and our fellow beings is honored and often returned in kind. It’s worth it to go the extra mile for people. They’re worth it.

You are worth it. You’re worth so much. You are known and loved by God and the universe. You are lovely. Keep being yourself.

Love,

Mago

Bashing My Head Against the (Figurative) Wall

Hello, friends!

I’ll be honest. I don’t know what to do here anymore. I feel like I’m bashing my head against an emotional wall when I write, so that’s why I haven’t been here for a bit. I don’t like doing the advice column type things I’ve been writing, and I haven’t been doing a ton of interesting things. I feel like I’m everywhere at once and can’t focus properly on any one thing.

I think this feeling is a long time coming. I have been cycling through multiple projects and it’s difficult to keep track of them all. It’s strange that I have never encountered it before, though. I’ve found a way to possibly blend my fiction with my poetry, which is good, at least. But with my two (or arguably three) more business-y ventures, it’s difficult to keep track of them all. I’ve been wanting to record a sequel to Mago for awhile, but seeing as that hasn’t happened yet, let’s file that under “pipe dream” for now. I need to do more Candy For Trees things this month, seeing as there are people paying for that. I also need to write a score for my friend Amy’s wedding.

Then there’s my tutoring, possibly my favorite business venture. I think I could prepare more for the lessons, but I don’t know if that’s a human thing – never feeling prepared enough. I love my students dearly, and they bring me great joy and fulfillment. I’ve tutored for 199 hours, so after tomorrow when I have more lessons and reach 200 hours, I’m going to increase my hourly rate to $25 USD/hr. I don’t have any lessons today, which is unfortunate.

I can work my tutoring harder. I need to work hard even when it’s a crappy day or I feel sick or I am sad. I’m bad at that, and that’s not good. I need to fortify myself and just do things.

My socks!

Finally, there’s the scariest venture of all – design. I’ve been designing a ton of socks for people close to me, and even though I know they will turn out okay, the waiting game always makes me super nervous. I have dreams about getting my own pair of socks in the mail and they’re not always nice dreams. They’re made here, and I love them. I don’t like that they don’t come through me first, though – I want to be able to do quality control so that I know for sure that customers will be happy. They make the socks for me using my design and then ship them to those who order them, making it so that I don’t have to carry an inventory. It’s cool, but when the time comes, I want to carry an inventory of my own and sell in person. I’ve asked those who purchase or receive a pair of socks to photograph them and put them on social media. I’ll regram anyone who posts! Mine get here Wednesday.

Also, my friend gets home from Sweden in under two weeks, and I made her a surprise.

I love all of my projects. My book may end up being the death of me, though, but that’s a story for a different day. Maybe someday I’ll feel better about this madness, but for now, I’m just rolling with it. I need to do more designs today…

Love,

Mago

Independence Day

These last few days have been weird, and it’s seven minutes until my favorite holiday begins, Independence Day. Independence Day has always been significant to me as it’s the one day where it’s officially acceptable to eat, swim, and blow stuff up on the same day. In Texas, there’s a lot of that going on on the Fourth of July, and my mind honestly didn’t get past the pool, the underwater fireworks, and the tasty ribs and peach cobbler.

But now that I’m in Alaska, I am far away from Texan pomp and circumstance. There aren’t many places where you can swim that aren’t inside a building, and it’s super dry, dry to the point that fireworks will likely start a forest fire. No joke, the valley where I live has been smoked out like nobody’s business. The sun rises a hazy orange. Now that I’m away from Texas, there’s more room to think. My husband was watching a livestream wherein the streamer read off the entire Declaration of Independence and then proceeded to make some interesting points about it. John Hancock, the man whose signature has become synonymous with bold signatures everywhere, was the wealthiest man in the colonies. He was fed up with the British and their shenanigans, and so he signed the Declaration in the way he did as a way to say, “yeah, I’m here, I know it, screw you and your ways. Come at me if you can.” According to the livestreamer, this inspired the other people present to put their names on the document, too.

I’m not the world’s most patriotic person. I am not in favor of a lot of the things that politicians and the media are up to nowadays, but I have to say that the Founding Fathers got it right. Yes, some of them owned slaves. Yes, some of them were kinda slimy at times, and no, most of them were not the pious Christians some would believe. They were products of their time, and their time had some amazing ideas. They were not perfect and their personal lives are cool, but their ideas are where they shine to me. Because of them and the people who fought to back them up, I’m able to write this today and not get thrown in jail for criticizing the government and organized religion. I’m able to think freely and speak freely. I’m able to believe what I believe. I’m able to do what I do. Yes, I know some politicians are slimy. People are greedy and selfish, but the organization of it all is sound, and I’m thankful for the systems that are in place to keep people where they should be. I’m thankful for soldiers, who do what many can’t to defend the country. I know some people don’t agree with all of the causes that the United States is involved in and I know politics are a mess. I’m right there with you. But I’m thankful for the nation and how it is set up and how it works, not for politics and mudslinging. I love where I live in Alaska, and I wouldn’t trade the nation for anything, no matter how crazy things get. I’m thankful for debates I have, I’m thankful for when I learn new things. I love y’all!

Mago

Quirky

Hello, all!

How many of you have been called “quirky” before? I know I have, and I have been giving it some thought. I’ve always heard quirky directed at me as a label, and I honestly don’t feel like it fits.

The way I like to describe myself when I need to is that I am eccentric. Not quirky. Quirky to me conjures up an image of the characters Zooey Deschanel has played. I like Zooey Deschanel as much as the next human, but in the films and shows I have seen her in, many of the characters are very feminine, very naive, very sweet, and do things in a manner that other characters don’t. They are weird in a socially acceptable way, a way that’s cute.

Image may contain: 1 person, on stage, standing and outdoor
Our first kiss at our wedding. I wore a red dress, breaking tradition.

I’ve been called sweet, naive, innocent, a cinnamon roll, the whole bunch, and I will own all of those. But when people talk to me, they find that I am overexcited about things, very intense, and have interests that some other people don’t, which makes it difficult at times to find my people. I like to wreck traditions whenever I can, which sometimes pisses people off. A lot of the ways I am considered cute are acquired tastes, and as such, I think that some people use quirky as a way to describe me because they can’t think of another way to say it that wouldn’t sound harsh. I use eccentric because it’s the one word that describes most of me, which conjures up images to those who know the term of odd uncles working out maps in attics, or something of the sort. It also reminds me of elliptical orbits in astronomy, but that’s beside the point.

Then there are the people who are like, “you’re not eccentric!” These people usually are my friends who understand my personality and interests well, and they think that I’m insulting myself. Then there are people who openly agree that I’m weird and know that me calling myself eccentric is not an insult. I love both kinds of people and friends.

Labels don’t make you who you are, especially the labels that others place on you. It’s also important to not rely too heavily on the labels you use to describe yourself, as you are subject to change as a human being. You may find yourself growing out of one and into others. Labels, to me, are also summaries, quick ways to tell the world who you are. You are more than a summary.

Thank you for reading!

Love,

Mago

How I Lost My Soul, or A Fine Absinthe Adventure

Hello, friends!

The cocktail in question.

Sorry to double dip with posts, I was feeling inspired. I have made myself a cocktail of rhubarb simple syrup that I made last night, gin, and some grape juice that we had laying around. Every time I drink I feel the opposite of how I feel with caffeine, like the world is moving 3 times slower instead of three times faster. One such example of this crazy slowdown feeling was the time I had absinthe.

Absinthe was illegal for nearly 100 years due to the fact that it was believed to have some bad things in it. It became legal again in the States in 2007, but I am forbidden from ever drinking it again. Let me tell you why.

My husband and I were in the liquor store one time heading back from a sushi date and we came across some Absente absinthe. My husband was drawn to it because the packaging had Vincent Van Gogh’s face on it, I was drawn to it because I had heard it tasted good.

Absente Absinthe, the very bottle that caused this mess.

It did taste good, like black licorice. I got around to trying it after trying Rosé wine and one of those tiny bottles of Fireball whiskey (which has been proven to have some weird effects when given to me by itself, let alone with absinthe). It was very strong, but soon it got worse.

No, I didn’t get sick, no, I didn’t black out. Yes, I did start sobbing because of something that made perfect logical sense at the time. I had lost my soul.

In reality, I didn’t lose my soul. For some reason I became very concerned with the fact that I didn’t feel spiritual at that time and feared that the alcohol had robbed me of it permanently. Translated, I had lost my soul and couldn’t find it. So my precious husband had to hold me as I screamed and cried about the state of my immortal soul. What’s funnier is that I hadn’t given a single care about the state of my immortal soul for several months before that night, going on a year. I don’t often worry about the afterlife, but this greatly concerned me that night. I think what happened was that I made an attempt to access my spiritual side as it is most often amplified when I consume caffeine and I must have thought that alcohol would do the same thing. It didn’t, and it was all I cared about at the time. It seemed like the most important thing in the world.

I would later have absinthe a second time by itself and that time I did not lose my soul. I started crying about one of those orange wind socks that I had passed leaving my cardiology appointment the day I had absinthe the first time. My husband reportedly had to spend three hours talking me down from that one.

Moral of the story, friends: Never let me have absinthe. I don’t care if someone is threatening you with harm of any kind. Do Not Do It.

Love,

Mago