So here I am, doing my best to work through the blockages of creativity, the lack of inspiration, or rather the lack of clarity to share what inspiration does come. Continuing to be as patient as possible when it comes to my emotional, and spiritual growth. Recognizing that there really isn’t a destination at all, just the journey, and what I make of it. But it can be hard to feel like you're making much progress when you feel like an empty vessel. Consuming information, knowledge, and finding some understanding. But still having no idea what it is I am supposed to be doing with my life, and how to apply all that I’ve learned in a tangible way. Sometimes I am content with this, that maybe this is all there is, and all that really matters. After all, anything brought into the material physical world is bound to die or be destroyed or forgotten at some point.

Magpies are of the Corvus family, crows, jays, and ravens being among its relatives. My entire life, I always thought magpies were a beautiful bird; at one point, I even claimed I wanted one as a pet until the idea was shamed from my head because my brother fervently told me they were scavengers, disgusting birds, etc. A very long time passed until I began to pay attention to magpies, and that was when my ex entered the picture. He had a connection with them, to say the least, and was fond of informing me of their folklore and spiritual meanings. From what I have come to understand without doing much research of my own, magpies have taken on associations of being tricksters, connected to death, much like their cousins. They mate for life and mourn their dead. Magically, magpies are associated with occult knowledge, communication, wisdom, magic, and divination. It is said they are believed to open the gateway to realms of the spirit. Claimed associations to gods and goddesses are that of the Greco-Roman Apollo, as well as Bacchus and Dionysus, Norse giantess Skadi, and goddess Hel; some also associate them with Hekate. I, myself, after the experience of this relationship and the past several months, am inclined to associate Magpies with the Greco-Roman god Mercury, also lovingly known as Hermes. My felt need for explaining these qualities and associations of the magpie will hopefully make sense through my writing this.

I believe the number one answer to my procrastination is the exact thing I now know I must travel through— FEAR. The fear of failure, of making mistakes (one’s I could not possibly recover from, or at least that's what the little voice in my head tells me), of ruffling feathers, and of disgrace. I mean what will people think of me if I finally speak my mind, freely and authentically? It proved problematic in the past, so it will certainly be a problem again. Let’s also not forget the fear of not being good enough. It doesn’t help that I feel I have always struggled with the English language in general, even though it is my native tongue. I felt especially terrible at grammar, and spelling, with a vocabulary about as rich as the port-o-jon at the State fair. However, I do remember a time when I fearlessly, and sometimes relentlessly, spoke my mind and didn’t care about the structure or correctness of my “articles”. Looking back, I begin to find the wounds, the shame and the lies from my adolescence that had slowly shut me down to this specific expression in my life, or at the least reserved it for my eyes only within the pages of numerous journals.