buzz of static

It's a little funny. I am constantly under the impression that Killy and I don't talk very often any more - and, in a way, I'm not wrong. Those deep, serious conversations we used to have crop up very rarely these days, and there's no real need to talk about forms, or visualisation, or clarity of speech, or any of those little inner relationship features we used to muse on as two.

At the same time, however, we almost speak more frequently because of it; it just happens so quietly and easily that it doesn't quite register in my uppermost consciousness. I don't bother to deliberately have A Conversation with my daemon - but if I pause and think about it, I can pick out dozens of short exchanges scattered throughout a single day.

"Absolutely perfect, if I do say so myself."
"And you do, don't you."
"Oh, I so do."

Nothing profound. Nothing that will assist me in a deep and meaningful way as I wander my worldly trails. (Something that was in fact referencing toast.) Just evidence that the flow of mental dialogue has become thoroughly, and possibly permanently, ingrained.

doppelgangers

Corporeality has never been of huge concern to either my daemon or myself - I could dig up a forum post made several years back in which Killy presented a rare speech that effectively said he was incorporeal because he was meant to be incorporeal, so lusting after some sort of physical presence would not just be lusting after corporeality, but a whole different system of operating. That's not to say I've never considered what it would be like, given that such musings can be a lot of fun. I've just never felt a great deal of grief over the way things are.

However, I recently realised that when wistfulness does rear its head, it's usually in consideration of how it would affect the way people perceive me. This seems a bit odd as, although I'm not the most secretive person I know, I do tend to be a bit touchy about who knows what, and perhaps I wouldn't be as prone to these grumblings if my settled form was that of a teeny tiny ladybug.

As it is, my settled form is a predator of reasonable size, and it's easy to imagine the ways that could come in handy. Many a night of wandering down dark paths after a late lecture at university has seemed like it would be less nerve-wracking if there was a solid presence at my side with a mouthful of teeth. Confronting a misbehaving child seems like it would be simpler if my daemon were able to calmly sit on theirs. Flattened ears and a low growl would be a better indicator of genuine anger than my own flustered prattlings.

Of course there are flaws to these notions as well, and they never will be anything more than idle thoughts. Some might even wish to ask that if my inner self is so inherently threatening, how come I can't express that myself? To that I ruefully point out that mouthful of teeth or not, coyotes are nervous little scrappers. The only reason my offsider would enhance my supposed intimidation factor at all is that it would be 'operated' by the part of me that is composed, confident, and not inclined to take crap - namely, Killy.

a rose by any other name would be a tulip

I'm not sure why it has taken me so long to realise this, but it occurred to me recently that my primary pseudonym - Winger - and my daemon's name - Kilmaeyon - came about in a similar way. Both were adapted from/inspired by a fictional source, both were originally intended to be applied to characters of my own creation, and both were later snatched up when I suddenly found myself in need of a name for the new little voice in my mind and a less stalkable identity.

If I ever doubted the opportunistic scavenger aspect...

it might have been parasitic

Me: Argh, the bread has mould! And I already ate a slice of it!
Killy: I'm sure the folk who would consider themselves fortunate to have an entire loaf of slightly mouldy bread at their disposal really feel for you right now.
Me: Did you really just whip out the 'there are starving kids in Africa' line?
Killy: *straightface*
Me: ...fine, alright, you have a point.
Killy: :)
Me: I'm still not eating the bread.
Killy: *STRAIGHTFACE*

So I guess, deep down, I am a very socially conscious person. It's just a shame all my shallow top-levels keep getting in the way.

The Confetti is Soggy Now

Oh, right - five years of daemonism as of last Wednesday.

I'm good at anniversaries.

Just Like Magic

Back when Jim first arrived, the abruptness of the whole affair left us both somewhat rattled. For some reason, I reacted to this by doing a lot of nervous chattering, which probably didn't help the situation all that much, but...well, neither of us were winning points for supreme eloquence. At one point, this exchange occurred:

Me: So I guess I'm sort of attracted to- uh, I mean, not physically attracted 'cause, no offense, but you're kinda old-
Jim: [indignant] I'm thirty-five!

At the time I took him at his word but never paid all that much attention to the information because I certainly didn't know what age the character was in canon. That was that until recently, when I remembered this talk and became curious enough to actually look the dates up. Imagine my surprise when I found out that the actor who plays Jim in the show he is sourced from - in effect, the man who is the exact physical double of him - would have indeed been thirty-five when we had that exchange.

It's almost as cool as the Charleston thing.

Beginner's Luck

It's a little strange. I don't think anyone thinks of me as anything but coyote (and if they do, they've been very unvocal about it despite my urgings). I don't really think of myself as anything but coyote. It's been nearly five years, a vast majority approves, and both Killy and I are very comfortable with the form.

That's not the strange bit. The strange bit is that I hold off taking on the title of settled because I don't think I'm old enough/have had a wide enough variety of life experiences, but should I one day decide that yes, alright, coyote is irrevocably It...I will technically be right back where I was when I so cockily declared myself a settled coyote at fifteen.

Is that a blow to the older-settling-age theory? Was it just luck? Am I an exception to the standard rule? Is there simply too much variation to determine anything more than a rough period in which settling is more likely to happen? I still hold that we lack sufficient stable data to draw solid conclusions, but I can't help but wonder these things from time to time.

A Special Kind of Fail

I have been intending to write an in-depth coyote analysis for so long now that it is genuinely ridiculous. I have books! Several of them! I have internet sites! I have almost five blasted years of experience!

I have nothing written.

It's rather amazing coyotes aren't extinct, if they're this adept at procrastinating. "I'm feeling a bit hungry, but...nah, I'll catch something later."

Dust in the Guest Rooms

It occurs to me I haven't actually said anything about the State Of Upstairs for a while, though in my defense there aren't many who are likely to care.

Killy is still a coyote. I still dance around the word 'settled' as though it is wearing a slinky black dress and has a rose clenched in its teeth. For a while, during an overseas trip, he adjusted his colouration to an interesting mix of his usual yellow and a lightish grey; it was somewhat reminiscent of this. It did not last longer than the few weeks, however, and he has since resumed his usual fur colour.

There are no tenants at all on hand, and it has been this way for a few months now. Alex never returned from wherever he went. Maybe he will one day, but maybe he won't, and as fond as I was of him it is hard to feel too sad about the matter when I know he was never entirely content being 'stuck'. Likewise, Jim has quietly vanished from the apartment. I don't think it too likely he'll return, though as I did have much say in his appearance in the first place, I couldn't say any predictions would be accurate. As I can keep a sort of an eye on him via his ongoing canon, it's not as complete a parting as it could be anyway.

So it's rather 'empty' upstairs. I have to admit, I'm not particularly unhappy about this. While it was never a major inconvenience having people around, it wasn't a huge, positive influence on my daily life either. Maybe if I didn't have a habit of attracting adult men with other concerns...

Formulating

I am quite fiercely, aggressively protective/possessive of certain people and things I own, yet I will freely poke at other's things and use them without waiting for permission. The inherent contradiction between being both territorial and a scavenger?

Shifting Gears

Never let it be said that finding your settled form will grant you a sudden, complete, and infallible understanding of yourself, because that is a load of crap.

I have, for a long time now, considered settling to be a process rather than an event. I know there are people who would disagree with me; people who feel that they are able to pinpoint the exact moment that settling occurred, and that there should be some sort of instantaneous sensation within you that proves, without doubt, that you are settled. Personally, I don't buy it. Such a notion ties a little too strongly back to the fictional foundation of daemonism, and while I'm perfectly happy to acknowledge that foundation, I think its separation from the world we actually exist in means some things just don't translate across - like objective settled forms that our daemons just know to one day take when we're ready.

So the introspective part of this process comes less from gaining an understanding of yourself via the settled form, and more from understanding yourself enough to find that settled form. In a ‘chicken and the egg’ comparison, I would say personality stability comes before settled form. As outlined in my old Concentric Rings Theory, it does not have to be a rock-solid stability, and there will be room for growth and change after settledom, just presumably still within the bounds of the form.

Of course, there is also the unfortunate fact that 100% certainty about any of these things is frankly impossible. We are discussing an abstract concept pieced together via discussion and experimentation, with vague ties to the psychological. The community itself is only roughly five or six years old, so there is no proven doctrine – merely a constant interchange of systems believed to work best until a better is found. There is also a notable lack of daemians who have participated in the philosophy for a great many years, leaving an enormous gap in the chart of empirical evidence when it comes to what may happen in later adulthood.

As for perfect self-knowledge? I have spent close to five years resting fairly solidly in a personality range that is apparently best described by coyote. I have read most website information available on the animal, and painstakingly collated a series of coyote-centric books (mostly with the help of much-beloved American contacts). I have lived with myself for a fairly impressive while now.

And I still have those teeth-grinding, hair-tearing, fist-pounding moments of who the hell am I and why don't I make sense.

So if you can relate to that, no worries. I think it's just a fact of fluid, progressive life.

As You Would Love Thyself

There are a considerable number of benefits to be had from knowing your daemon - indeed, why else would so many of us stay with it for so long? - and they vary from one person to another. Speaking personally, I find that exploring the settled form constantly allows for expanding self-awareness, forming problems as a dialogue is both calming and therefore provides greater clarity, and even the illusion of not being entirely alone can instill more confidence than would otherwise be had.

The greatest positive, however, is something that can still take me by surprise. In a way, it is a combination of the three things mentioned above; self-awareness, clarity, and confidence. What Killy says, and how Killy acts, has always been an utterly truthful reflection of how I feel - even if I don't realise it at the time.

Over four years experience and the use of hindsight shows a consistency in this that can feel genuinely startling at times. There is honestly no room for error. Things that I have done in the past and, years later, come to finally realise and admit were foolish are always, always paired with Killy's brand of anger and disappointment. Likewise, a contented coyote inevitably means approval for whatever action I have taken. I cannot force him one way or another, because if I am too wary of an answer that I don't want to hear, he does not speak at all, and that silence can say plenty about my conflicted stance on its own.

Of course, Killy is technically only correct in a very subjective sense. He is only ever a flawless representation of my feelings on any matter. This does not make it any less useful, however. What would otherwise be a muddled circling of uncertain and frustrated monologue can be cut down to a matter of seconds simply by turning to my daemon and requesting his opinion. Is it because by shifting the blame for the harshest observations onto a different subject I can face it down better, or is the daemon in fact a sharp-tongued mouthpiece for the subconscious? I don't really know enough psychology to say either way. I have nevertheless found it of incomparable help several times in the years I have known him.

Sidenote: I only have to travel halfway around the world for my daemon to be gentle with me.