The fact that I awakened again a few minutes ago at 5am suggests that my brain is still running at a higher clock speed than normal. The fact that it was 5am this time instead of 3am would seem to confirm that it is slowing down, which is exactly what I wanted.

I'm still contemplating how last night's ritual plays into all this. After leaving the restaurant, I became convinced that while the energy of the Elements drawn into my heart chakra during the circle was pure, it was then polluted by my choice to go along to the restaurant, where the energies that entered were not in alignment with... well, my dharma, for lack of a better term.

I could just feel the sinking stench inside. It wasn't just a physical thing, though that was certainly also a factor. I had, after all, just consumed a plate full of grease -- products of hormone-injected factory farmed misery, partial hydrogenation, and refined dead starch -- all bathed in a cocktail of unnatural chemical compounds. While that's something I've done many times before, I believe my sensitivity to it was now heigthened by two factors: (1) the fact that I've been eating really well lately, so a body accustomed to getting the "good stuff" reeled at the sudden assault. (2) The preceeding ritual had aligned my physical energies with those of Greater Forces and purified them, making it even more obvious when tainted energy was introduced. (i.e. If you put a drop of dye into a glass of clear water, it's much easier to see the effect than doing the same thing with a glass of muddy water.)

As any true magician knows, not only does the spell itself matter, but also the conditions under which it is cast. In hope of attaining greater closeness with other members of the circle, I had violated what virtually amounts to a personal creed; wasting money at a chain restaurant, fueling a system of domination and exploitation, acting as a participant in a game that I long ago decided I was sick and tired of playing.

Thus, when the conversation at the dinner table turned to my path in life, and I began attempting to explain the nature of my quest, I faltered. Any words I uttered were vain in this context, a direct contradition to the actions I was taking at that moment.

As I rode east on O street, back toward home, I directed my gaze to the moon, and wished to the Goddess for a way to purge myself of this burden. I found a spot of bare earth, stopped there, and tried my best to make myself vomit, but couldn't.

The consequences of the past are with us. What is done cannot be undone. We must live with the effects of our actions. This is karma.

I have not yet mastered the art of finding balance. On the one side, I could become a total vegan, swear an oath to never patronize any big corporate entity ever again (or anything of a remotely exploitative nature), and effectively turn myself into an uptight, dogmatic, neo-puritan. On the other, I could go along with whatever the culture dictates, mindlessly ignore harm caused by my complicity, and defend myself in a manner similar to those who excuse America's Founding Fathers for owning slaves. "It was normal at the time. Everybody was doing it. You couldn't be a part of the culture if you didn't at least somewhat adhere to its norms."

Neither path appeals to me. So I try to walk the middle path, and sometimes I stumble one way, and sometimes I stumble the other.

...

Today, I plan to work on tidying up my physical space a bit, talk to the recommended auto repair place about getting Tobias back in working order, and attend to other affairs I've been neglecting.

Tonight, I work an evening stocking shift at Open Harvest. Should be interesting.

In my eagerness, I also agreed to undergo cashier training, and told J that wanted to do it on Tuesday. Now I'm wondering if that was really wise. Tonight, I work until midnight as part of my new regular schedule. If I train for cashiering on Tuesday, I'll need to be back in the store at 9am, where I would stay until 3pm. Then I'd go dashing from there to gas station land to do 4-hour Tuesday evening shift. That could be exhausting.

I'm contemplating whether I want to call him to try and reschedule, or do my best to tough it out. I'm still considering that.

Anyway, gotta go. The day beckons, as does my bladder. Peace.