...to yesterday's topic...
In the midst of having had some genuinely bad dreams recently, I have had some startling, positive moments.
I've already mentioned having found that I am far more self-accepting, even to the point of looking in the mirror and being happy with what I see. This in itself is nearly miraculous.
The second piece of this, I've been almost afraid to mention because it is so fragile and new. But if this blog is to be an accurate record of someone's spiritual journey (which, come to think of it, is what I am attempting!), then I need to say it. I have started to think about England in an entirely positive way.
Now you might think, this woman has had a "thing" for England since about the age of four, how on earth could thinking about the place have been so problematical? (I'm talking, of course, only about my relationship to the country, not external events or situations there.) It's been such a perfect storm interweaving the confusing messages from family and society about the value of things I love, women and girls not traditionally being part of the cathedral choral tradition, not having ever earned enough money or had enough career success to make a permanent move possible, and inner bugaboos about not being worthy of experiencing joy, recognition, a sense of home, financial security, etc...Thinking about England has almost always brought on a mild sense of depression, hopelessness, homesickness, and a bittersweet longing/kick in the stomach. Those books about England on my shelf, which I spoke of the other week, were at times a reproach. And, I'm sure, deep down I was angry with myself and "whatever Gods there be" that I couldn't orchestrate better solutions.
In this context, imagine how shocking it is to find myself actually smiling when I think of England, feeling a warm glow, and a sense of "how privileged I have been to love such a place". To feel pleasure, then wait and wait for the usual kick in the stomach, only for it not to happen. To grin from ear to ear with happiness. Now it helps that I have re-discovered "Antiques Road Trip", that (let's face it!) rather zany English TV show featuring antiques experts going to antique shops all over the country. I love this show. And I get to see places I know as well as places I don't, to see beautiful and unusual works of art and crafts, and to laugh along with their silliness. At the end of an episode, I'm not bitter or homesick, just happy. This is not solving world hunger, but I believe happiness energy is so rare, you have to notice it and cultivate it! That I can do it without trying to plot and plan my next trip is remarkable. Truly remarkable.
What has changed? I think finally coming more fully home to myself. Not so much is "missing", so I can embrace what I love without waiting for the undercutting downside. I guess it is worth it to endure some nightmares if I'm magically moving forward in other ways.
