I have been waiting most of the week for Saturday, as I have had most of the day to myself, working as I sometimes do at our local museum, and have carried likewise a number of things I was hoping to do. Most importantly on my list was following up various emails and getting some of my own writing done, but here it is almost time to close up and my day has gone very differently than I had planned.
In some ways it hasn’t, as I have spent hours working on exams for the coming last week of classes, but in writing my first set of emails and listening to a few different pagan podcasts I have felt an increasing sense of exhaustion with the written word and the rational faculty on which it depends. When an email from the ADF bardic list pointed me to Sarah Lawless’ HedgeFolk Tales podcast and indirectly to her regular blog, I was finally knocked clear off of my academic tón.
I almost feel as if I’ve been changing under the skin, shaking off invisible shackles like a new-found Scrooge of some wholly inconcieved or at least forgotten cultural complex. There have been several times today where I’ve actually physically shaken, but I’ve no idea what practical change this will make. I’ve the urge to get back to my paints and ink, or take up sculpture or something.
One thing is certain: there is a call that is sounding somewhere. I can’t hear it; but my soul can, and it’s driving me a little crazy.