Wormwood tea and Foxglove root-Ruts, Change and a date with the Wild unknown

Once in a while, I find myself at a deep and ugly realisation that I have let things slip. I will try to tell myself that I am actually getting my ducks in a row, or myself back together, because I am actually doing something- cleaning the house, or drawing, or laying an offering. But the truth is- I really haven’t. It feels like burnout, I think- a long and hard year with odd changes and disruptions and only a small amount of personal tragedy. I think 2018 was the year of being numb and going through the motions.

The Wild Unknown Tarot- 8 of Swords

I really did try to have adventures. Believe me, I tried. But work-life and depression became like a thick fog that I was unable to move on from.

These holidays were going to be spectacular. I was going to do so much. Sort out the garden, complete some artworks, practice with epoxy for Herbarium pieces, maybe – maybe’ try learning to knit again, read some books and most importantly of all- go on adventures.

I may have completed one or two art pieces, but I really don’t feel all that great about what I have accomplished. My garden is overgrown, weedy and in need of some love. I haven’t touched the epoxy, and while I have tried to read, I just cannot concentrate. This all has led to the inevitable lack of adventure this holiday.

I guess one of the most important ways to start getting out of a rut – 8 swords- is to actually really take stock of what has been done, be proud of those small little wins, and see what still needs to be accomplished, put one foot in front of the other, and start moving forward- even if it is uncomfortable, even if it feels like my limbs may be ripped from my body.

A piece from my “Entropy” series

Spiritually I have been languishing on the edges of nowhere and nothing. No progress, no movement. I was hoping so much to work on myself, on my festering and wounded shadow, but while I said I would do so, I didn’t actually do it. I just continued on, pretending progress all the while sticking deeper and deeper into the muddy hole of self pity, laziness and “there is still tomorrow” attitude. You would think from all my near death experiences that I would know better. But depression is the bigger opponent. Much harder to break because of the fact that it comes from deep inside and has been a lifelong “companion”.

I decided it was enough. I need to break the pattern somewhere. And so I clipped away pieces of overgrown Jasmine, repotted wormwood and mugwort, cut back my african wormwood, transplanted some seedlings including Datura inoxia and Pine, and re-arranged my table of plants. I was harsh. I removed plants which were past their prime, reused the pots for other things and even ripped out from the root some Parsley and Foxglove.

Foxglove Root, and Parsley Root

It is the time of the dark moon.. Full moons and dark moons have passed by with headaches, and exhaustion and lack of inspiration. I may have laid milk, or wine, or water and flowers at the altars when the mood struck, but it was all done without really being present. I haven’t been “present” in a long time. Just really, really numb. Even the Fox’s feast just kind of fizzled away. It wasn’t entirely my fault as work really drained me, I have been close to breaking point a few times and while Henbane helped me dig deeper into poison, I feel like her lessons were from a dream a long, long time ago. I guess that is part of her nature. Dreams and forgetfulness…

The Pink fox is different. Even when there is no blooming foxglove she will sit there and make herself known. Even when I am concentrating on the lessons of other animals- Wolf and Bear have been significant over the last couple of months. And toad, of course has been croaking away. I will dedicate this moon to the Pink fox and Baba yaga. I haven’t gone visiting in a while. Like Little Red Cap I will bring some gifts – wormwood tea, and foxglove roots. I must prepare myself for Baba Yaga and her eyes which pierce deep into the ugly folds of the self. You cannot hide from those eyes. Pink fox is my guide- tricksy, clever Pink Fox, laughing at the edge of shadows and pink, almost like Vassilissa’s doll- a voice from the otherside- dark and wild and full of blood.

I step into the Wild Unknown and pick up my cards which I have missed so much. Insight can burn like the sun, like Baba yaga’s eyes, but it also gives a path, a way to follow, to move on from this rut.

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