Sep. 26th, 2004

urocyon: (water)
Once again, I was relieved to figure out this evening that I'm most likely coming down with some sort of flu which has been going around Ingvar's work; the past few days' depression and aching make sense and are not really worrisome. (Not that residual pain sponged off Mirrors has helped, but I can cope with that "pitchfork in the hip" sensation better than he can.) The way I tend to catch every respiratory virus that comes down the pike, one would think I'd twig more quickly by now. Ah well.

Which brings me somewhat nicely to the main thing on my mind at the moment. It took reading through another discussion of how/in what cultural context people prefer to approach the land spirits--run across in a rather roundabout way, since I haven't had much time to spend online recently--to figure out a major source of disquiet since I've moved.

I expected moving into such a more urban area to take a bit of adjustment, and it certainly has. Coming from a rather rural part of Virginia, I'm not accustomed to living among the sheer population density here. From what I have seen, people where I'm from prefer more personal space than average--while I, and most of my family, need still more--and live under conditions in which infringements upon that space are nearly always intentional. I'm still having to remind myself that very few people think about infringing here, much less mean anything by it, rather than stiffening up the spine and going into full defense mode on the bus. Nor do I have "Keep clear--One Of Those Damned Touchy McCraws" tattooed on the back of my neck, not that it would mean anything in the social context. ;) This sort of thing, I did slightly expect, and it's proven more troublesome to adjustment than being on a different continent entirely.

The main consideration I'd given the land itself (well, other than the bits I've seen largely being paved over) is that the landscape itself here is strange to me in its flatness, with an underlying sense of its just not feeling "right". The difference in sunlight intensity and patterns was impossible to miss. The only explanation I can offer is that I've been so preoccupied with other things that I haven't set aside the time to make more than the slightest overtures. It seems a strange omission, even to me, and I am surprised that it has taken so long for the reason behind that nagging sense of unease and disconnection to sink in.

Perhaps part of this is because I'm used to its not taking much effort. I spent the better part of 29 years living within a 50-mile radius, on ancestral lands. Though I may not have had the words until later, a lot of time was passed roaming and getting to know the land itself and its various spirits. The feeling of slipping back into a familiar rhythm, of being embraced, was striking when we went back to visit my family this summer. I won't even try to describe approaching and getting in the New River again.

Here, I haven't yet developed a good feel for the River Rom, or even the Thames. I don't know the spirits of this place very well, have mainly tried to be generally respectful thus far. The plants and animals are as different as the landscape, and need a different approach. I don't have a very good feel for the climate yet. It's almost a relief at times that there is nowhere near the number of ancestors and ancestral spirits clamoring for attention, but a tad disorienting. I can't help but feel (irrationally) as if I've abandoned them, sometimes, as the main one who was trying to pay attention at the moment.

A lot of this may come across as homesickness, and part of it is. But there's very little wonder I've felt disoriented, and I'm glad to have figured out a good portion of the reason. Remedying this is going to take a decent bit of work, sooner rather than later, and I must admit to feeling a tad intimidated. I know, broadly, what needs doing, but have never before needed to do such intensive work with the land.

For anyone who has been in a similar situation, moving to a very different place, how did you go about adjusting?
urocyon: Grey fox crossing a stream (Default)
Why does this result not surprise me?



You Should Vote for Michael Badnarik

John Kerry

Two Points. Your Libertarian Vote Just Landed in the Trash Can!






Raising the usual question: if my vote is going to be chucked down a rathole anyway, given Virginia's lovely electorate, who least gets on my nerves? Probably not Badnarik.

Contemplating things political when feverish and grouchy at 5:30 a.m. may not be the best plan.

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