Up until now, I have felt uncomfortable speaking on behalf of, or for, Mother Earth/The Goddess/the feminine divine. After all, who am I, a "little girl from Schenectady" to do that? Never mind that men all through history have written and spoken for God. In part, it is the very fact that I conceive of the Goddess as a Universe-sized river of love, so much bigger than a single being, that trying to find words to speak for Her can feel impossible. But this current war is, oddly enough, giving me the courage. My one little voice is the heart of the Goddess within me, trying to find expression.
This war is the kind of end result that will always happen when a paradigm operates without the balancing input of the feminine. This is the proverbial end of the line when you take that train (and I'm using that metaphor both deliberately and apologetically, given all its current and former symbolism). Unmitigated tragedy, violence and horror. Every bomb, every tank, every act of destruction, every family torn apart, every person running for their lives, is a brutal attack on the Goddess.
But (and this is a big "but"), so is every explosion in other contexts, like mining, fracking, oil production. So is the destruction of the rain forest, the creation, use, and disposal of plastic waste, the space waste circling the globe, the creation and use of all weapons, industrial plants, cars, and appliances -- when it has been done without considering the polluting impact on Mother Nature. So is every abuse of women and children, the glorification of violence in entertainment, and an economy that supports most of these horrors and largely ignores people who do less harm. Our life in the "West" is energetically not dissimilar to what we are seeing in one embattled country, in terms of how it pains me, anyway, that light being within me that I believe to be Her.
I'm one little voice in the wilderness. Right now, on a good day, I have one, two, or three readers. I have no illusions that many people will ever listen to me, although I have always dreamed of being heard. But from now on, I think I may have to write as if there is no tomorrow for human life on earth, which there won't be unless we start to honor (not "worship", honor) Her.
