Return of the Fire Ceremony ...

After a quiet morning in The Womb, getting swept away by the myth of Selene & Endymion, E & J & I went out for a rare family breakfast, surrounded by Muggles at the golden arches. The bottom then proceeded to drop out of the day for about six hours.

I did NOT want to run this Fire tonight. Maybe more accurately, I did NOT want to work with my co-workers. There is a story to tell, and I will tell it sooner than later, but not today. Nevertheless, it is well know how I react when I am obligated to do something I don't want to do ...

Funnily enough, it was E who seemed better able to deal with my darkness, as opposed to J, and the whole thing just lead to yet another stressful, unfocused afternoon. I was so uninspired that I didn't even bring my rig / computers / anything. Just a couple of drums to pound the shit out of.

Bug and I got there around 6. E decided, wisely, to stay home, so BA came and worked the desk for me. We set the room up, made small talk with B & K when they arrived, and welcomed the light summer attendance into the room around 715.

I then proceeded to perform one of my best circles. 'Cause that's how I roll.

I danced with them, I called the quarters, in Kate's absence, as if I had been born for it. I wielded near total control of the ceremony, drummed my ass off, and took them deep into the unknown. By the time I closed with the old Sufi saying, "Is it true, is it necessary, is it kind?", I had made my statement abundantly clear.

This program is mine.

One year since Jason gave it to me, since I was surrounded by my loved ones on that magickal night. So much has changed. People have come and gone from my life. I've quit this work in my heart several times, yet somehow managed lead 12 consecutive ceremonies. And like I said, this was one of my best.

So what does it all mean?

I will meet with management at the 'Seed sometime this week, to determine once and for all if there is a future for this work, if indeed there will always be a Baggins under the hill at Bag End. Once I have that clarity, one way or the other, things will change drastically.

Until then, my shoulder and my wrist and my hands are all screaming at me to stop typing. And so I shall. But not before I remind you to never underestimate a Trickster. Never.

Good night.