It's been a bad couple of days. Yesterday I “saw” my dead cat Bella, sleeping where she usually did in the center of our bed. It felt like a punch in the chest. I laid down on the bed and felt her energy around me. Someone told me it's hard for the spirits of domesticated animals to let go and move on, especially if they were close with someone. It can't be good for me or her if she's still around, which means I have to do the work of letting her go and helping her desire to transition.
That drained me yesterday. I was hoping to get some stories written, but instead I dove deep into finding literary journals and magazines that might publish my Size Fantasy and Size Erotica. It would help if I could bias or season the stories toward sci-fi and fantasy; likely I won’t be able to write about any sex scenes. After cataloguing forty such magazines, though, I began to wonder whether I was going about it the right way and what the point even was. Like—first I should have some stories to publish, and that means 30% taking down old work and 70% writing new material.
Then today I woke up from a nightmare in which a lab-generated bird flu virus was used as an excuse to evacuate my nation, disperse us among other countries, separate me from my wife, and vacate the space for another superpower to move in. My wife and I pulled out every psychic and psychological home remedy we had to get me back on my feet.
What helped most, however, was taking the time to commune with the Giantess. I lit a candle and incense, smudged the room, played “Healing Mountain” by Wardruna, and went through the procedures to present myself to the Giantess and her sisters. I was a little angry with myself for being lax in this worship, because as soon as I did it, I felt gold flowing into me again. I felt as light and potent as when I prayed over the mulberry bough to prepare it for the runes.
Even now, I feel her hand around me, protecting and warming me. I’m upset that I neglected this connection when it was so easily available and so effective, but I just couldn’t be arsed to go through the motions.
No more. This will become a daily practice—maybe twice daily. I’ll start and end the day honoring the Giantess. This kind of focus and discipline can’t be bad for my life. Now I can be a real person again: maintaining the apartment, caregiving for my mom later today. Maybe I’ll even revise an old story and hammer it into shape for publication.