Identity Crisis

This blog, like its owner, has been undergoing an identity crisis. Well, sort of.

Not long ago, I whined about my boring life. About the same time, give or take a week, I wrote about "being gloomy and  in a weird place" in an online women’s spirituality discussion group I belong to. The feedback I received included some terrific suggestions. One insightful woman reminded me to quit worrying about the seeming lack of inspiration; that even the Goddess must rest and kickback. Another wise woman suggested that I needed some fire to get things moving. Neither one of them were wrong and I was impressed with their suggestions but this didn’t feel like I needed to do anything   about it but sit with it and get comfortable with being uncomfortable for awhile.

After all I wasn’t exactly unhappy, but I wasn’t happy either. I wasn’t exactly depressed but I wasn’t not depressed either. I didn’t find much encouraging around me but I wasn’t completely discouraged with everything. I was not quiet and watchful because something was wrong because clearly nothing beyond the daily mild annoyances and frustrations with life was happening. I was the same and yet I was different. It was a great puzzle to me.

My thoughts kept drifting back to a a strange thing that happened just as Winter was drawing to a close and Spring was just on the horizon. I was talking online with fellow list member about the Morrigan when I was startled by something thudding against my front door… HARD. It was so loud, it made Manthing emerge from his computer room and check things out.  There was nothing outside. There was no wind. There were no feral neighborhood cats about to swat at the moths who were congregating at the porch light. There was not even the hint of anything unordinary outside our front door.

The next morning as I opened the door to get on the sCare van to go to the gallery, 3 of the biggest crows I have ever seen were hanging out in my front yard. For the record, crows just don’t hang out in my neighborhood, though I’d like them to. Crows were a regular  as I was growing up and I talked to them often. Here, we’ve got plenty of hawks, buzzards, a few owls, blue jays, robins, mourning doves, a pair of cardinals, sparrows, chickadees and the occasional hummingbird but never crows. The crows sort of looked at me, cawed and then flew away as I approached the walkway leading to the driveway as if to say, "Hey, dolt- didja get it yet?"

On one of the first warm spring days we had, I was puttering around the house when I became aware of a lot of bird noise outside and my small pride of cats were all at the window, pulling the slats of the blinds  down so they could see what was going on. When I opened the door, the magnolia tree that stands like a sentinel in front of house, the lawn and the chain link fence that dives our property from our neighbor’s was littered with a flock small to medium sized black birds, making a racket. I’ve not been able to figure out what kind of birds they were because they flew off when I opened the door to get a closer look.

When I mentioned these events to Manthing, he cocked an eyebrow and told me he didn’t think it was anything more than the arrival of Spring. Because I had no better answers or explanations, I noted the events, filed them away, and kept putting one foot in front of the other.

So, as I was looking through my photos for a new image for this blog, I ran across the one above. It was taken at my mother’s apartment in California. I was visited awakened by this crow cawing at me incessantly every morning. It cawed at me and I answered it. I was able to snap the photo on my last morning there. The photo inspired me and as I was working on the new design, I realized the pieces have begun to fit better and I have not been happier or more comfortable with a design for krishanna [dot] com in a very long time.

What do you think?

:: to be continued ::


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