feeling the earth calling

Last Sunday I nipped over the border to Glastonbury with my son and spent the day generally being a pagan dad.

However since then my thoughts have been calling me back to my old familiar places mainly my pagan/shamanic beliefs. The last few days I have been itching to get back up Kilvey hill and spend some time sitting and chilling on my own. So today I went and spent about 3 hours wandering around the trails on the hill. I found the time very surreal (but then I usually do). I first walked up the trail with the intention of looking for some fallen branches to make some wands and/or runes from. The hill did not fail and offered me two lovely branches. I then sat by the pond and watched the water ripple and the insects fly about.

While there I spent some time working with auras, trying to sense the aura around my hands (something I tend to be dubious about) and found I could sense the heat radiating from my hands from a fair distance apart, perhaps my mind works better sensing heat than pressure as I doubt I could actually feel the heat from the other hand from over 8 inches away, anyway something to think about and work on more in time.

Moving further up the hill I eventually sat at King Arthur’s throne and spent some time using a drumming mp3 track to slip into some journey work, however I was too scatterbrained for it today. I then visited the green man Bel and offered him some fruit and the same at the stone circle where I also put out my medicine wheel and lite a candle.

There are so many locations up on Kilvey hill that I find are special both to myself and to many other pagans. If I were to ever leave this area, I think I would miss living under the shadow of Kilvey hill the most.

Love
Shaman G

Boffing madness

My long time school/life time friend Oz sent me a link to a sport/activity called boffing.  I have since researched it and it reminded me of my LARP days (running around Margam Park as a barbarian dwarf with a beefy quarterstaff).  So it seems that Boffing is a spin off from several other activities, but has become something separate and fun in its own right.

So I went to B&Q and came home with the materials to make a few basic weapons, the result of which is below

The kids seem to like them and too be honest I quite enjoy the chance of therapy, hitting kids in a safe and controlled way, lol.

I first made two simple generic boffer swords, although I latter added a hand guard to one of them, I then made a generic dagger out of the scrap bits, of course I then rushed back to B&Q to get more materials and have since made a 6ft quarterstaff (pugel stick) which has always been my weapon of choice.

I am seriously thinking of using these boffer weapons in youth club on Tuesday and see how well it can be controlled as a fun activity.

There seems to be nothing quite like it in Swansea on initial investigation but I will look further into it, however, I can see me creating a group in the eastside of Swansea if there is not one, as this can be a fun way to get fit and socialise too, and never forget the therapy……

Boffer G signing out

before and after pics

Ok here are some photos for comparison sake. the first one is of me in May 2007 and the second one is of me two weeks ago in Hay-on-Wye so they are about 25 months apart.

Doctor who? – no but it was some odd eastern european name

I went to the Doctors yesterday…..

No there is nothing wrong with me, which is also what the doctor found odd!

I explained that i was not ill I just wanted an MOT (checkup) so we did the whole weight, heart rate and blood pressure thing, and I am fighting fit, 120/90 and heart kicking like a horse and weight in the doc’s with clothes on was 17stone 2lb.  He asked me how I lost the weight and I said ‘divorce’ (ok its getting old now but it still a  jaw dropper).

Ieuan also came in with me and we discussed stratagies with his own diet as well….

The Doc also seemed to think I could not get on any plastic surgery list unless I had also had a tummy tuck, so in one way I am actually relieved as I am not interested in any knife touching me on purpose.

But….he did seem to think that most of the skin would, over time shrink back and also if I was to bulk up with a bit of muscle mass that would also take up some of the sag.  So my plan is a sound one.

When I get to 15 stone I will focus on maintaining my weight (although any lose would be appreciated) and concentrate on firming up my body for a few months (about 6 maybe) and then I can re-evaluate after that and maybe move a bit further down the weight chart (maybe to 13 stone).

I am also going to try to give myself a freaky challenge over the next 3 weeks and see if I can lose a whole stone in that time ( my birthday).  It would be nice to just sneak into the 15 stone range and know that I only have 13lb ish left to loose.

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

The G (the only and original)

Lust versus Love and chasing dreams

Goodness that’s a title and a half to a post, should certainly bring the punters in……

In all seriousness I have not written a really thoughtful and deep post for quite a while and the mood that I have been in the last few days I think warrents a little ranting on my part so I thought I would go to town on this topic, lets see where it gets us.

Is lust enough? or do we all seek love?

I am starting to think, usually after i see everyone else enjoying their lives that Lust must be enough for about 95% of the population, and if you ever go clubbing in Swansea on a weekend then you probably think that lust is ok for closer to 99.99% of the population.

But when the hormones are back under control and the Hulk has finished smashing things then what are we left with? Well its either the desire for more lust or a dull ache that pleads with the body to look for something else, something deeper.

I look around at most people and I think on the emotional evolutonary chart they are all around about the level of the flat worm, and are probably more than happy to stay there too.  people cannot miss what they have never experienced (or can they).

But little old me, I seem to have evolved further along that evolutionary chart and am standing upright after throwing away my club, and I yearn for something more, something deeper than just ‘wham, bam, thank you mam’.  I am not knocking the lust side of things, I of course enjoy it when I get it, who doesn’t, but I am just saying that its not everything, and its certainly not the whole of my personal existence.

Last night I was standing outside a pub in Swansea and I felt two things, one was age, my gawd, I suddenly felt soo old, standing outside the Monkey Cafe, wearing my Airwalk trainers , 1/2 length shorts and listening to my music.  The other thing I felt was loneleness, watching others, mostly couple, walking past.  Then I had a glimpse of my future. was this all there ever will be?  Essentially walking through my life, alone, never fully sharing the deepest parts of me, forever chasing silly dreams and fantasies, never quite reaching the end of the rainbow.

So after that learning experience I feel as though my mood has darkened even further for now, and will probably take me some time to get out of it.  I have a lot of things to think about. decisions to make, roads to travel (any more metaphors just throw them in this part, lol.)

As I say, thats where I am, I jsut don’t know where I will be next.  I need to get out, walk for a bit, but as always its raining, although I might still go out…

(and this is for my slightly new friend tracey, the ache never really goes away and you are never alone in the whole aching game, there are probably thousands of us out there)….

G (slightly melancoly)

Ode to the nice guys

I found this as I was stumbling and loved it too much to leave it alone, as I can identify with it all to much

Ode to the Nice Guys
This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003

Another Poem – Master(less)

I just had a yearning to write this poem, its not amazing, probably quite crude to be honest,  It took me all of 15 minutes once I sat down.

For those that know me I am not into BDSM (look it up) But through world experience I have talked to a few and been involved with people that are into that scene.  They would probably all call me vanilla (whatever).  However I needed to write this poem, once the urge is there there is no denying it, and it is also for some reason how I feel at present….

Master(less)

In a candle lite room she hides,
Beneath smooth silk sheets she abides.
Her soul has disturbed her from her slumber,
Craving rising for something more limber.

Her eyes look into the darkened corners,
to the shadows of sculpted men.
Her eyes first scrutinize and then delight,
As they settle upon he that feels right.

She blows him a kiss as his head rises,
The shadows recessing as he approaches.
He picks up the gossamer chain that binds her neck,
Attached to a silver collar warm to her skin.

Passions rise as the two entwine,
Hair grasped, breast cupped, arse spanked.
Bodies drenched, muscles fatigued, chests heaving,
Finally they lay still.

Then chains appear, spider spun thin,
bondage she yearns as her body aches.
More and more chains appear,
body aches more, soul yells out.

Too many, too soon, too wrong,
The chains fall heavy upon her.
Weight crushing her down into silk sheets,
Fingers stretch out, breath escapes, panic sets in.

Their eyes meet, his concerned, hers in fear,
His hands reach out and lift the chains.
Dragging them back to the shadows once more,
Her body sags as her panic relaxes.

She looks for him once more wondering why,
then laying there slips into sleep.
as dreams creep in her lips whisper,
‘maybe another time, maybe….’.

written by the Kilveyshaman

a bit of an update – no surprises though!

Quite simply I scraped past that milestone today,  am now in the 16stone zone at last.  It has been a struggle to get to it simply because of the rest of the world slowing me down, lol……First I had a cold which put me off for a week, then the next week I struggled in the gym and recovering from a cold, then last week the kids were off from school, which always upsets my gym and swim routine, then in the latter half of the same week my car’s exhaust falls off.  Then come Sunday night I start sniffing again, so I have a cold again.  However I did manage to get back to the gym and pool today and when I got home I hung of the imaginary ceiling hooks to make myself a bit lighter on the scales and came in at 16st 13.7lb.

So I am happy, but it is more of a tired happy, sort of like running the marathon, you kno tha in the end you will win, but are just to darn knackered to care….

So here is the 16st guy signing off

Love and Peace out to the world and all my freaky friends

G