Change of Scene

For never leaving town, it's been an era of great transition in my life. First, I lived in a single apartment for eight years while I went through jobs the way Ms. Zabini went through men; then, when I'd found somewhat reliable, recurring work at Widmer/Redhook that I could take or leave as needed and where my fellow employees didn't drive me insane with fake niceties, I began getting shufted from one living situation to another like an unwanted stray pet, so that any savings I made were gulped up each time by moving.
 It's gotten plain tiring!

I requested a whole month off work to be able to accomplish all the tasks I still wish to do before, and while, I also take care of the tedious business of moving. This week, I could barely get out of bed before work. I managed a few small creative endeavors, but didn't touch my lab. My Road Opening magick, to my shame, fell by the wayside. When all you do is sleep, commute, eat, work, and try to get your breathing pattern back to normal before copping out to sleep again, it's hard to get much else accomplished. I woke groaning in bed, feeling only the ghostly caresses of Severus as solace, unable to roll out onto the rug until the last moment, and most times had to literally "fuck myself up" in the morning. What kind of life is that? I have projects to make, at least two events to prep for . . . a life to live . . .

A low rent payment in this house has made possible a wee bit of savings; enough to take a trip. Since I keep being uprooted, why not pack a bag and take my work on the road --- or go where new and untasted work, or at least scenery, beckons? I have some experience now. I will come visit your country, help you garden, make medicine, build a wall, work wool, and yes, brew beer.

Today was my last day, for now, at Widmer/Redhook, or Craft Brew Alliance, as it's now known. I never imagined, first as a kid collecting Redhook caps and then as a collegiate who noticed the tall neon Widmer sign in club windows, that I'd be spending a few years in work there. I'll admit there are far worse jobs. I've worked far worse jobs, which is why I kept coming back, even as a mere temp, and stayed. And, they'd probably take me back after my leave. But with my move impending, I need to focus on launching this next phase to the best of my ability.

One of the most beautiful parts of the depalletizer setup: the multi-speed belt assembly of the "combiner"

Hours, days, weeks go by at a place like this, while you tune out the deafening roar of thousands of glass vessels and the tumble of conveyors, passing hours on a smartphone or book. But in the final minutes of this final day, I paused to enjoy the elegant, serpentine river of glittering amber glass as it flowed along the belt, on its way to market, then to deliver beer to buyers. I grounded, drew up energy from the Earth and energy down from the stars, the way I basically never do at work. Maybe I should. Practicing on-the-spot grounding, meditation, and magick is a good idea, because that's usually where you are: In the middle of life. I felt the energy flow through my heart, then concentrate in my hands. Then I held my hands out over the bottles, brushing the tops of them, walking along the belt. Trailing twinkling fairy lights of intention.
 "I want everyone who drinks this beer to feel happiness."
 One last blessing, at a factory making one of the most commonly consumed "potions" in this city, Portland, perhaps the USA's chief founding hub of craft beer.

 There's a small pang that comes with any change. Even when I badly need a break, even as emotionally rough as I felt yesterday. Will I miss the hours spent in easy work, encircled by the river of glass?

 Five til ten o'clock. Almost quitting time. I sniffed, aware of an unusual, acrid stench. Like when I use strong peroxide on my hair. It got a bit hard to breathe. Were they running caustic cleaner through the lines?
 Fuck it, I was off, up to the break room. The spell was broken!

 Ammonia leak!
 This, I'd never in my four years encountered this. The quality assurance lab person told me the building would soon be evacuated! Everywhere the air started to grow acrid, except for the break room, in which I took refuge with the others while awaiting the light-rail home. Now the spell was really broken!
 Flee, flee, my voices said. Go find that next phase, in a healthy place, with your heart's best work. Only come crawling back here if you have to, they're going nowhere fast!
 Clement the black forklift-driver gave me a quick bro-hug at the train stop. "Good workin' with ya," he said. "Who knows, this place might have a new name by the time you come back, the way things are going!"
 Then we boarded separate trains in opposite directions, me toting one last free 12-pack of Longboard Lager.

 Today's feeling goes with what I've learned over the course of this era in my life. Corporations come and go, and the system as a whole isn't necessarily your friend (although people can be, when they allow themselves to think and feel outside of what the system tells them to). The best life overall is lived by trusting your instincts; by knowing what changes to make, and when, in order to grow. Like a snake shedding skins, embracing change with grace is part of a well-crafted life.