Couldn't handle a demonstration yesterday (asthma) so went to el cine instead. Saw X-Men 2 (and yes, I am aware of the irony, trading real part in possible change for change-flavoured corporate bromide. I couldn't bloody breath. Really not up to marching. Okay?)
Anyhow, X-Men 2: I wannabeamutant. Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! Iwannabeamutant! IwannabeaMUUUUTAAAAANT! I'm going to be on Ian McKellan's team and we're going to titter at you and bitch about your hair! MUTANT!
Don't know if it was the oxygen debt, but somehow the film got my magickal muscles all-of-a-doodah. I felt all juiced and evolvey (and yes, I do know that's not how proper evolution works. I read Dawkins and Pinker, me. It's as good a metaphor as any). I sat in the cinema and made myself a little energy tent, like a wire-frame model made of beams of light coming out of my hands. I really opened myself up to the feeling. I could visualise universal energy pouring into my crown chakra which got all tingly (it hasn't done that in a while). It's strange but fun when a piece of featherlight entertainment can have an effect like that. I know I was definately meant to be in that cinema watching that film at that time. I needed a bit of a boost, you see; I'd been a bit slack on the old magick, what with the move and having a crisis of faith and stuff, and so I asked my (guides? Angels? Those spooky dudes that have been hanging around since my attunements, anyway) to Give Me A Sign. And Lo, the was a Sign.
I think they know me a bit to well.
Anyhow, I came out feeling like doing something impressive. Have decided to re-start my aborted psi excercizes. The attunements really shook me up in all kinds of ways: my tolerance for drugs like alcohol and caffine has dropped through the floor, my dreams have become more vivid, my memory attacks more frequent and more uncomfortable, my synasthesic experiences more pronounced. Oh, and I've only had the one fit since, which is some kind of record. It feels like things have started to settle down a bit now, though, and I'm ready to get back on the psi. I doubt very much I'll be floating pencils, you understand, but when I was doing the excercizes before I was having all sorts of interesting little experiences. I don't care if it doesn't do what it says on the tin, it does something, and that's the whole point. Trouble is, the work is all very repetative and you have to keep doing it every day, like sit-ups. And I'm already doing so many little bits and pieces every day that it's easy to conveniently "forget" some. It bugs me, though: my lack of sticking power, the way I get discouraged and let the rot set in. What I would like is someone who's already good at that stuff to poke me along, badger me to keep on with the exercises when I get slack. However that's unlikely to happen. Certain incidents over the course of the last year and a half have made me extremely distrustful of magickal alliances, especially over the internet.
A big prob is the restrictions I place on my own mental processes. "Oh, you can't write/think/say/do that! I doesn't look like the things that everyone else is write/think/say/doing! Do what that guy's doing, over there! Quick, before someone sees you!" No more of that. If it's the same as the other guys, fine. If it looks like a turnip, fine. If it's a fetching shade of lemon yellow, fine. If it goes CLUNK boink .vwzzzzzz SPROINGGGG then that's fine too. Everything is fine.
I'm definately an October-December person but I love the way that something shift-y generally happens to me around this time of year. Last year it was deciding to be a writer, and things are gradually shaping up in that department. This year it's been deciding to go full-on magickal freak.