It is the view of the Satanist which just concentrates on the materialistic. It is the view of the 'love and light' people to just focus on the spiritual. But we are immortal spirits housed in temporary flesh bodies. It is through the material that we have the ability of influence. I'm not saying someone's spirit, after they die, has no influence. But we really can't know what sort of influence. What influence there is is likely because of those things they have done while incarnated.

Kipling's poem 'If' comes to mind:

"IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too;... ... ...If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'... ... If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!"

Someone wrote a poem geared to girls, ending with 'you'll be a Woman', that was in one of my cards at Junior High graduation. But I like this one better, if we ignore the gender specific ending.

Here's the totality:

IF IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on! ' If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, ' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Not that 'Triumph' is an 'imposter', but we shouldn't have our heads turned by it. Now Pride, the sort that Set urges us to have, is not externally based. It does not depend on whether others praise us.

What of the line 'don't look too good, nor talk too wise'? Possibly this is the effect of not examining our subtle communications. If we do this, we may not be able to influence a situation in the way we'd hope. We have to put our words into terms people around us can understand. I think to 'rule in the Outer world' is to have influence, to cause things to evolve in a better way than they would have. If we can introduce new ideas, suggestions for improvement, in ways those around us will take to them, then we are on our way. The application of this has infinite possibilities to the creative imagination.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

"Much Wakefulness after a Scary Dream"
5:27am

Voice of America reports:
"Suspected U.S. drone aircraft have launched about 12 missile strikes against targets in North and South Waziristan in the past two months. Pakistani leaders have denounced the attacks, calling them a violation of Pakistan's sovereignty.

"Pakistan's parliament Wednesday called for an urgent review of the nation's security strategy, with an emphasis on dialogue aimed at reducing violence."

The BBC explains:
"Washington says the strikes are used against militant targets, but correspondents say that intelligence failures have sometimes led to civilian casualties.

"Figures compiled by the BBC Urdu service show that some 80 people have been killed in a number of suspected US missile strikes in South and North Waziristan region over the past month."

There is a wide variety in the numbers of dead reported, depending on the source. The target is Taliban militants, but is difficult to know how many innocent people got killed in the process.

Yes, I could be picking up on a strong "Yankee, go home" current, mixed in with a lot of other flotsam and jetsam floating in my mind. But what is hopeful is that sense of connection.

Friday, October 24, 2008

"Too Bad to Repair, So Sad!"
9:36pm

As I was at work, replacing the torn pockets in an ancient pair of pants, I wondered what original hue they were. On the outside, they'd faded to a brown, while on the inside, they were grayish. A possible hint, the zipper was black. Thirty years ago, they might have been black. Some people just keep repairing stuff that is past reasonable.

Clothes do wear out. As I stitched, I tried to remember all the things I have worn out. Sadly, in my nearly fifty years, I haven't worn out that many items. I've usually found things unwearable because I've grown too big for them. But I have worn out a few cherished items. The first was a black wool coat I'd bought while in high school. It was my first really big purchase. I went on the bus downtown with the necessary money, and found a good one on sale. In the store's light, I thought it was navy. But the sunlight revealed black. When the lining became shredded, I relined it. But eventually, the elbows wore too thin. I remember I did take it with me to Arizona in 1987, nearly fifteen years after I'd bought it, I couldn't leave it behind. I'd had too much history with it. But not too long afterwards, I did reluctantly place it into a trash receptacle. It felt like a burial.

And then there was two blouses and a skirt I'd bought shortly after moving to Arizona. I remember I got them all at Lane Bryant, size 14/16. The skirt was a perfect honey brown twill, 'trouser' style zipper. I loved that thing. I wore it until its pleats about tore, and the backside was (my gramma used to call such 'rump-sprung'. Well, actually, to be more precise, she'd say "Aunt Cora used to call such 'rump-sprung'")...

...I _had_ to give it up. The two blouses, both seersucker, failed not too long after. One was honey brown and ivory checks, perfect for my coloring. I wore it when Laura, a friend of ours named Felicia and I went to the Tucson zoo:

Those items were all I could recall. When I got home this evening, and checked my e-mail, I found the Friday Illo subject this week is "Repair". How appropriate for my thoughts today!

Too bad to repair, so sad!

Saturday, October 25, 2008

"Line Drawing of Set"
7:39pm

a new image to add to the Set finds, this of a united Set and Horus between six serpents.) The first url I checked out contained this reference:

"O re, Geb, Nut, Wsr, Heru ! Make well the heart of this suffering man ! Lead him back to life as you made the heart of Re revive durring the attack by Nehaher. Drive out the poison that is in his body as you banished the venom of Apep which was in the body of the great god!

God gives life to the one he loves."

'Amuntet' doesn't say where she found this, from what ancient text. However, I was curious and began poking around her journal. I soon came to a page on Set. The text is from Christian Jacq, new to me, and concerns Set's ability as a healer. There's an image there of a very intriguing Set. I tried tracking 'QueenKichaa' down, but she's pulled down her art gallery and left no forwarding address.

I noted she uses a jackel snout, so I combined donkey ears with a jackel's snout similarly (the models found on Wikipedia). Here is my sketch screen:

I used my own hands and a mirror for his hands...

...I'm not sure yet how I'll color it, at least I'll have the digital line drawing always as a back up.

As I look at this page, thinking of how I used my own hands, a song by Jewel comes to mind:

"My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
We are never broken
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's mind..."

"We are God's hands...", hmm, reminds me of a certain invocation, of which some of you will know to what I refer...

Sunday, October 26, 2008

"Refreshing Fresh Air"
2:50pm

Not too long after I woke up today, my sinuses started bothering me. I took a nap, then woke to the sounds of our neighbor's stereo. The wailing mariachis, sounding as though their 'huevos' were caught in a vise, were most disturbing. My head hurt terrible. Oh, I could have worked on my assertiveness and communication skills and found some nice way to approach the neighbor so that she would be happy to quiet the wailers. But I didn't. It was easier just to retreat.

Having had to work Saturday, we hadn't had a weekend walk. It was beginning to heat up by 10:00am, but I figured we wouldn't bake too badly. So we got out of our nightgowns and got dressed. I did have presence of mind to bring a camera. I decided on West Wetlands park, because of the shaded ramadas under which we could rest.

When we got there, intriguing arrows were laid out on the path in a white sand: