This is one of those mornings when I have nothing planned for this blog, and I'm not in the right "place" to mull over Goddess words. Labor Day weekend was, for me, almost literally the beginning of a different kind of labor, that of giving birth to an updated version of me after a nine month retreat-of-sorts. In the end, it is not a "new" me, more of a case of much more fully embracing all the facets of who I am and always have been, and being willing to bring them to light rather than hide them. My big "split" is no longer that. If there is no other place on earth where England/English church music and the spirituality of the divine feminine overlap, then they (finally!) overlap more comfortably in me. The birth canal that is this moment's crazy kaleidoscope of world and national news isn't something I can do much more than acknowledge and then move on from, hopefully, within the next few months, into the light of my own "new dawn". Not surprisingly, the card I pulled this morning was "Initiation" (the equivalent of the standard Tarot's number 0, "Fool"). Yup. Ultimately, I know nothing about how to proceed, except that I am going forward inwardly dedicated to the Goddess, as best as I can understand that energy.
Yesterday, I needed to do an errand at our local mall, and boy, there is nothing more surreal than a mall! (I wrote a story years ago about a future time when malls were museums. People paid to look at life as it was in the late 20th/early 21st century.) I find it almost impossible now to go into any large store, be it grocery, natural foods, pharmacy, clothing, or books...The number of products is completely overwhelming, especially when they are encased in plastic. When you've been living in survival mode for decades, almost everything on the shelves seems unnecessary...I guess I'll leave it at that. (Obviously, one or two things were "necessary" to me or I wouldn't have made the trip, and most of these items must be necessary for someone, or some system.) Even as we speak, many Americans are having to rethink their priorities, if they have lost their homes or jobs. Things are happening at the right time, in a way none of us can fully know.
I am within earshot of the highway which heads south from here, and the constant loud hum of cars around a holiday weekend is intense. People who waited an extra day or two to leave the Boundary Waters for the Twin Cities are heading south. We haven't had any nights in the thirties yet, but trees are beginning to change, and most of the wildflowers in the garden are skeletons of their former selves. I actually love those spare shapes, which are almost fractal in their repetitiveness. The quality of light in and outside the house has been amazingly rich, as well. You wish you could bottle it and look at it again in mid-winter!
