Before I crawled into bed the night before, I drew the shoal sigil over my pillow. Again I slept hard and deep, with only the knowledge that I dreamt a thing coming with me to wakefulness in the morning. Of all the methods of activating the sigil that I have been experimenting with, drawing it in the air with my hand has given me the most joy.
For no other reason than the order of the numbers comprising the code, the shoal sigil is drawn right to left. The technical version of the sigil includes a tight loop where one of the code numbers was repeated twice in a row. For the purposes of drawing, writing, or visualizing the sigil, I leave the tight loop out as if it were a diacritic in favor of smoother motion.
I have noticed that when I am drawing the sigil for the purposes of bringing something to me, I use my right hand because the ending motion resembles me presenting something for acceptance or review. When I am using the sigil for defending myself, or to use one of the coded desires in an apotropaic manner, I tend to draw it with my left hand. The ending motion of my left hand is if I am sweeping something away from me, dismissing a thing, or preventing something from approaching. I am not doing this as part of a deliberate decision, and I plan on exploring this instinctual dichotomy of action later.
The work hours raced by in a blur. Between clients who didn’t understand that I am not here for entertainment and/or commentary, to clients who sent scathing and puerile emails to my boss and community leaders for not kissing their ass, to technology that made today the day to completely break down and “helpful” coworkers who inserted themselves in the recovery process and breaking that as well, I barely had any time to consciously fire the sigil.
Instead, the sigil kept firing itself. In between the swirls of chaos, little moments of useful assistance and encouragement bloomed just when I needed it most. After each moment, I would feel something like an absence in front of me, like a dinner check waiting for my signature. I filled the absence with either gesturing the sigil in the air if I was truly private and alone, or with visualizing the sigil in blazing color in front of me if I wasn’t.
By the end of the work day, all the things that had to be done that day was done, all the things that could wait for Monday was set aside, and I scored some damn good pizza. (I dunno about y’all, but good pizza is always a source of “good cheer”.)
The DoMagick challenge is not the only set of shenanigans I have cooking at the moment. As I enter into a phase where it is more important than ever to pay attention to my dreams, I’m concerned that the “restful sleep” directive of the shoal sigil is interfering with the need for remembering my dreams. It was my intention not to fire the sigil over the pillow before going to bed.
Unfortunately, the entire week caught up with me all at once causing me to be so exhausted, I fell asleep in the chair in mid conversation. So tired that I felt drugged, I dragged myself to the bed and gestured the sigil over the pillow in hopes that I would be able to get all the rest I needed even into the morning.