Category: joke’s on me

Impact and obliviousness

Published on by Boneweaver (aka pjvj)5 Comments

It’s been an interesting 24 hours. I have spent decades underestimating my impact in various spheres of my life. I never fail to “dog head” when my oblivion is brought to my attention. Like, wut?

It has now hit the level of embarrassing. In efforts to keep my ego in check I have put on blinders, and as beloveds shifted away, I thought I spoke into a vacuum. What and how I expressed myself mattered little, I surmised, ignoring that all of us have impact larger than our awareness.

I have been purposely removing those blinders and paying attention in my offline life for about 4 months and with a concerted effort starting 2 1/2 months ago. (Yes, I know the exact date I moved from “things take time” to “START NOW”.) It hasn’t yet bled over to my online life.

In the last 24 hours I’ve been having front-and-center plus behind-the-scenes conversations with a number of folks ~ their impressions of how I present myself online consist of a gamut of viewpoints, covering a great range, but a couple of core things overlap.  It has been fascinating, in the best sense of that word.

What I do know is that my online self used to be a really close match to my offline self, and the chasm between the two has grown. (There are a hundred reasons for it, but none matter to the point I’m writing about.) I started righting that with the magical turn of the calendar page, but it is a slow process, with backslides. Time is the only proof that will show it, so you’ll just have to trust me. Or not. Your choice.

Here on this blog is mostly Boneweaver, keeper of the Dead, chronicler of the learnings and foibles of walking my spiritual path. Other venues have seen SJ PJ, *rawr*ing up a storm. Neither of those is all of me. Both of those are not all of me. (Never will *all* of me be out there. C’mon, I’m pretty open, but I keep more than half of me to myself.)

I desire to pull the edges of that chasm closer together. I don’t wish to eliminate the chasm – the abyss in the center is where the Mystery lies – but I wish to move back to where when I met someone offline who had known me only online they would say, “You’re just as I thought! Except nicer.” (What can I say, text reflects me harshly. I try not to use too many extra words. *looks at length of post* I have really edited this down from what’s in my head – I swear!)

I wish to reflect more of me in all of my online spaces. Compartmentalization of me has not been good for me, and as I have impact with what I choose to put out in the world, it has not been good for others, either.

One thing that I am just getting brave enough to put out here is the art I do. I don’t often see myself as courageous, but with my art, every post is a steeled-nerve act of bravery. I’m taking lessons from someone who has been refining her skill for decades. They are donation-gratefully-accepted-free lessons through Facebook. You can find the first lesson HERE. It is my gift to myself, conquering the fear and rewriting the old story that I can only art in abstract because the skill of realism died with my father.

And now it’s your turn — what would you like to see more of from me? I really am interested to know.

(And I’m going to hit publish before I chicken out, so read through the typos, please.)

It’s funny what a nap does

Published on by Boneweaver (aka pjvj)4 Comments

I was having a pretty stellar end to my day yesterday. I finished up a charcoal drawing and was very stoked with how it came out. I had readied for shipping a new oil blend.

Then I caught up in places on Facebook after I said I wouldn’t. I know me well enough to know better. I really do. And yet …. so I put some movie on Netflix and settled in, determined to coast into someone else’s plot for a bit. I drifted to sleep about a half hour to 45 minutes in, awoke 30 minutes later and had missed a bunch of important things in the plot.

Bugger that. My mind drifted back to why I’d put the movie on in the first place. I noticed that once again a nap had cleared and focused a truth for me. None of this stuff matters. Who cares what I think? Who cares what anyone thinks? I realized, about 30 years late, that I don’t idolize celebrities. Or, whatever word belongs in here that causes people to feel really badly when an actor or musician, or other super famous person dies.

I have zero understanding of deep mourning for a famous person you didn’t know intimately in the flesh. I do not have a frame of reference for the sorrow for another that one has known only through their marketed self and products of their career.

I get a brief pang of sadness, a swig of sympathy for their beloveds, and a bit of wistfulness. Then I move on. And I mean move on to the next subject and have nearly forgotten already the death.

For my personal beloveds I mourn deeply. For famous folks, nope.

No intense mourning for: Elvis, Princess Diana, Robin Williams, Joe Cocker, Geta Garbo, Leonard Bernstein….. I could go on, but it would require more Googling because after the first three I was done. Stab of sadness, moved on – for all of them.

I also realized that whatever it is that makes this so, also makes me an outsider in my hometown sports network. Back when I was still following the local football team I would cheer and avidly watch the games, but if we lost I was over it when the game was over. I moved on. I stared oddly at those around me who stayed in a funk over a loss. “Why?”, I would ask. “They blew their job, but it is not *our* job”, I would say. People looked back at me just as oddly.

This disconnect with the public mourning means I have a grand lack of connection to other humans. It also means I should stay far away from tribute and mourning conversations, probably entirely, going forward. With the way this year is starting, I’m going to be spending little time reading Facebook. This is likely a good thing.

I have decided that in the grand scheme of my life, what matters is that I make more art and I make more oils.

Verbal Boneweaver is eff’n verbal (Monday blogging early because CAMP!)

Published on by Boneweaver (aka pjvj)5 Comments

On Tuesday I had reason and desire to connect my throat chakra to the element of Air. I wanted to release misunderstanding and engage clear communication through my speech. This worked really well and I was very pleased. However, I have been trying to disconnect my throat chakra from the element of Air and I have been thwarted each time.

It has been an interesting wrestling match between the two of us. I have even stomped my feet and whinged, “why won’t you let me go?” But Air has quite the hold on me. This extra verbal side of me is one I have battled in the past. I have no desire to reengage. I have tried many forms of grounding since Tuesday night to be rid of it. And yet it continues.

Because of the relationship I have with Gods, the Universe, and All that Is, it has been a bit of a snarky conversation between Air and I. I have a playful jovial relationship with the various spirits of the unseen world.This is how I communicate with Them, therefore this is how I am communicated with. It creates an ease of engagement that works for all sides. In spite of this I opted to try other more conventional approaches. These efforts have warranted no change in the connection. Bugger that.

I do not want to close my throat chakra. I could and that would solve that, but I need it open for clear speech at the upcoming camp next week and the path I am co-facilitating. I will be singing and chanting at camp, also. I have enough trouble hearing my own voice in song without struggling through a closed throat chakra to boot.

Finally, I asked again, “if you will not let me disconnect how do I handle the excess verbiage so that I can stand being around myself and others will be able to stand being around me, too?” And here’s the answer I received: I was told to continue to speak and to continue to use as many words as I wish, but instead of speaking them to other humans through voice or text medium, I am to speak them to the wind.

StarFinder said: “Whisper your words and your song to the  overarching Spirit song that runs through the Seen and Unseen Worlds. Some of your words will drop into the middle of a forest. Some will run down the rabbit hole. Some will reach the stars. Some will float on top of the sea. And a few will make it to other humans’ ears. All of your words will join the song of Spirit. That is where they belong. Pay less attention to who hears your words and more attention to what you wish to say. The point of your speaking is for you, not for everyone else. So whisper, talk, sing, sob, chant, or scream your words to the wind. I will carry them where they need to go and you can release without worry. These are our jobs right now. Let’s do them together.”

So there you have it. This is my task. This I shall do. Hail StarFinder, keeper of my words, Holder of my secrets. May it be so.