Closed Doors

Increasingly, I find I am writing this blog with a specific audience in mind: those women (mostly, plus some others) who are undertaking a serious spiritual journey outside the context of one of our major religions. Even though my own journey has brought me under the umbrella of "Goddess/women's spirituality", I don't necessarily assume that all unconventional seekers end up in the same place. But for many of us, there certainly hasn't been a guidebook. And while I can hardly serve as a "guide", I do feel an obligation to share about the experiences that have been a struggle, in case it helps others who might be living a similar reality.

So...closed doors. Believe it or not, I have become more and more grateful for the experience of growing up in such a narcissistic environment, because I became used to invisibility and rejection. If that sounds cutting, it's not meant to be. I mean, seriously. I would go on to live outside so many norms and institutions, that closed doors became almost a way of life. I think I occasionally became so convinced that my life would be about rejection, that at times I prepared in advance for it. I became inured to rejection, and could survive it. Maybe I even drew it to myself.

If you had asked me ten years ago how my life would change as I came to know myself, I probably would have said, "Great! Once I know myself, I'll easily connect with those who are like me! I'll find a family, a tribe!" And yet, over this last year, as I have become aware of a few such "people like me" (people with some intersection of  England and the divine feminine), my efforts to reach out and introduce myself to them have hit surprising brick walls. At the very least, I have not immediately been met with open arms into predominantly female/unconventional constructs, any more than I was half a century ago into male/conventional ones.

If everything that happens is either about love or fear, I guess this phenomenon is about fear. Women who have "made it" (even to a small degree) may simply not wish to rock their own boat. This odd, intense woman in the American midwest, with her University of London master's degree and her invisibility, may just be too much of an unknown element to embrace with open arms. When I put myself in their shoes, I get it.

When doors seem to close in my face, I vacillate between sort of an angry/ironic "of course!" and a shrinking childish feeling of being sick to my stomach and unloved. Increasingly, though, there's a third way emerging. I take a deep breath, align with Goddess love energy as I understand it, and try to assume that energetically, even these folks are just not quite my tribe. If and when the energetic overlap is just right, I'll be warmly embraced. These closed doors may be pushing me to the one, right, open one. At least the hope of that keeps me going.

Liminal Times

I use words like "liminal", "portal", and "transitional" a lot. It seems like I have spent most of my life in this state, between realities, between countries, between duality polarities. I used to refer to the horizon line, and being near Lake Superior again may be part of the catalyst to the current intensity of this feeling. 

There was a reference on the news this morning to the number of jobs that will be lost to artificial intelligence in the not-too-distant future. And yet, here's little old me, still stunned that humanity has completely leap-frogged over women's intelligence, women's ways of knowing, in its race to the future. I guess I get "why" -- truly incorporating women's perspectives would have slowed the process way down, and changed its essence. 

But how will people consistently access the electric power necessary for this technology when increasing numbers of storms take communities offline? If we make earth unlivable, what good will this artificial "intelligence" be? Should we not have made a better effort to understand Nature's needs and wisdom along the way?

Meanwhile, there is so much evidence of people becoming more loving, more sensitive, more creative, and more empathetic -- at the very moment when more and more people seem to be becoming less of all the above. Trying to stay calm and centered in the middle of so many moving forces is a challenge. We are transitioning into an unprecedented kind of time, and holding one's energy stable -- not being reactive -- feels crucial.

Where I am currently living, there is a lovely dog who has, up till now, stayed rather aloof from me. But she has begun to warm up. When you are a gypsy, you cannot own a pet, but I've had a few "step-dogs", and that animal love is precious in these liminal times. 

 

Things are moving

Well, you have to say this about this current moment. Things are moving.

I'll start inwards and move outwards. I had an appointment with my healer yesterday, and clearly a lot of old stuff was unleashed, because I slept like a log from 9 pm last night to 6 am this morning. Stuck energies within me seem to have started moving.

The unfortunate thing about such a deep sleep is that evidently I missed quite a display of northern lights last night. They were so bright and active that even people in the city could see them through city lights. Tonight I plan to check the skies before I go to bed, and if it is clear and cold, stay up for a while to see if there is another display. The constant movement of northern lights is almost addictive; once you see them, you don't want to pull your eyes away. It is like a sparkling, electric waterfall in the sky.

March 23rd was notable, too, because early in the morning, I heard Duluth's Aerial Lift Bridge horn, and a responding boat's horn. The Paul R. Tregurtha left Duluth -- the first ship of the season. I think several vessels are due to arrive today. Hearing those horns is such an important thread in the weave of life here...the winter freeze seems all the worse for the silence. When you finally hear the "long-short-short" call again for the first time (usually late March or April), you rejoice. It's like our city's own "Hallelujah Chorus". About five inches of snow fell Wednesday, but it was wet, heavy, and impossible to shovel. Thankfully, at this time of year, there is "light at the end of the tunnel" (so much for trying to avoid overused cliches!) Even if we move higher on the list of all-time snowiest Duluth winters, surely, by May 1st, we will be well on the way to losing most of our snowpack.

I won't say anything about all the movement happening in the world. There's a lot of it, most of it guaranteed to cause extreme anxiety and pain. But finally I have figured out how to express what it's all about. We are being given the opportunity to align with the more love-filled energies that are suffusing all of us, our physical earth home, and the entire universe. People who cannot do that alignment are likely to wig out. The rest of us? We do our best to get into this new, higher flow, and move with it. The key is, "our best." This is an unprecedented leap upwards for the whole interconnected system, and it's OK to feel like there is no instruction manual. There isn't. Every day, just let go of the shoreline, and flow in the direction of something you love. Move with love, not against anything else.

Laughing at Myself

In my last post, I made a reference to how it can be hard with my kind of background to focus on myself, because of fears of slipping into that black hole of narcissism. Within hours, I was laughing at myself. I mean, a lot of people might say, "that train has left the station"/"that horse has already bolted from the barn"/"that boat has sailed"! Whatever metaphor you prefer...I mean, when you write a blog for all the world to see, focusing on your life journey, your thoughts, your experiences, and you do it approximately every three days for almost seven years (with one year off for COVID), you are by definition drawing a lot of attention to yourself. That's the inherent paradox of my kind of life experience. Born into an emotional black hole, and not (most of the time) feeling that you even exist, your whole life consists of scratching your way up and out of the hole. And as a woman in what is still a man's world, there's an extra layer of trying to find yourself, to validate your viewpoints and experience. 

I suppose it boils down to whether you are capable of seeing other people, feeling and understanding what they might be experiencing, and whether you are living your life just to promote your ego. I hope that most days, the latter isn't the case. Each day, when I first see the sun break through Lake Superior's horizon, I thank the Goddess that I exist, and have one more day to try to understand and align with the feminine face of God. I feel the constant weight of women in history behind me, women in the future ahead of me, and women on the planet today, hoping that if I have even one new insight, it will benefit all of us. More and more, I am conscious of walking Her walk -- as lovingly as I can. But if anything, I have more humor about it all (and about myself!) than I ever did. One of my oldest friends calls me a "gypsy mystic", and who would ever have expected that of pale, bespectacled, nervous little Liz from Schenectady?!

Friday

It's Friday. We were supposed to be in deep with new snowfall, again, but thankfully we only got about an inch, not a foot or two. It's been crazy cold and windy, and a snow squall is belatedly going through, but overall, we lucked out. 

However, the last storm took a major local toll when a significant portion of Duluth's mall roof collapsed from heavy snow. The whole mall is closed for repairs and, I assume, to ascertain the safety of other portions of the roof. My legally-inclined mind went a bit nuts the other night, perseverating on all the ripple effects of this event, not only for the mall's owners and the owners of the stores and their employees (how many of them will continue to be paid?), but also for various segments of the community, and the larger metaphoric meaning. Needless to say, I never got back to sleep. It's a good thing I never actually became a lawyer, because I wouldn't have slept for, what?, 40 years or so! The next day, I noticed that an apartment building down the street with a flat roof was having it shoveled. Suddenly everyone realizes, that could happen to me. 

I've started a project that may or may not lead to a real full-on endeavor. For the moment, it is just for myself. For at least a decade, I have used various tarot and oracle cards, usually for a daily morning reading. It has helped me focus on the day, and sometimes helps me understand "where I am at" in this world that makes so little sense to me. I suppose it is a measure of something that the world of the cards is often far more comfortable and comprehensible to me than life around me! Anyway, my four or five favorite decks are all by different artists, and vary wildly in how they depict major themes and figures. One day recently, I thought, I want to sketch out some cards of my own...what is my take on The Fool, or The Empress, or Death, or The World? So I've started to do this, using colored pencils. It is the first "artistic" thing I have done in ages. (I suddenly remembered that I took an entire course at Parsons School of Design on illustrating with colored pencils.) I'm enjoying it, and that is all that matters. I've spent a lifetime accepting other peoples' takes on everything. When you come from a background of extreme narcissism, you can be so terrified of being narcissistic yourself that you keep pulling back, taking the back seat, even on an intensely personal spiritual journey! Yet I've reached the point where my own perspective is the only lens I can see any light through anymore.

On a similar note, a ticket to hear some Irish music tonight was just offered to me, but I turned it down (gratefully, I hope!) Even a few years ago, I might have gone simply to get out and please other people. But the truth is, I'm not super fond of Irish music. I appreciate its lively musicality, but it really isn't me. So what is more pleasing on a frigid Friday evening in mid-March? Reading, knitting, maybe watching a little TV, making a simple supper. That's it, for a mystic who is completely thankful to be somewhere where she can do these things.

 

Destinations

Evidently, there has been more reporting in the media about Duluth as a destination for those trying to escape the worst effects of climate change. I haven't read the reporting or any of the attendant comments or follow-through. So these are just a few thoughts from someone who discovered the area thirty-two years ago, and has spent a total of about a decade here since then. 

The first thought is that people should have no illusions about the weather in northern Minnesota; even now, there are a full six to seven months of winter (temperatures from 30 above zero F to 30 below, with occasional wind chills of -50 or colder). This very morning, halfway through March, started below zero but the temperatures will warm up into the 20s. This winter has been extremely snowy -- I can no longer shovel and reach my arms up high enough to deposit snow in piles. And we are due to get another foot or two this weekend. The growing season here is terribly short, barely long enough to get tomatoes ripe, and, while spectacularly beautiful, summer's weather can be quite variable. It can be 40 degrees near the lake and 80 up on the hill! Even after all this time, an upbringing in upstate New York, and a preference for England, I have never quite acclimated. (My happy temperatures are about 40 degrees F to 70 degrees F!) People living with climate crisis elsewhere may not feel they have the luxury to fully check other destinations out, but there is no question that December-January-February-March here needs to be experienced, if possible, before making a decision.

Secondly, I think I've said this before, but fear will become a really bad basis on which to make any decisions as we head into coming earth changes, be it our own fears, or manipulating others through fear. I think the Law of Attraction will become more and more evident, and if we go anywhere or do anything because we are afraid, we will be more and more likely to attract the thing we fear. And there is no place on earth that will be unaffected by climate change. If longterm power outages, food shortages, or other disruptions occur, Duluth will be just as challenging as anywhere, even more so, particularly during the half year of winter. 

And finally (for now!) it's so painful that we continue to think of the climate/Nature as separate from us. That it is something we can or should escape from. Goodness, that is the same duality thinking that got us into this pickle in the first place! It is a huge leap in thinking, but it has to be done...look into the blizzard or the torrential rain or the flooding rivers or tornados or tsunamis, and know that it is you. It is all of us, made more extreme by human choices over generations. We cannot change those past choices, but we can start to make different ones, and start to embrace our unity with the weather and the natural world around us. I'd rather live long enough to start to create new human constructs, but if I die in an extreme weather event, it will be an honor. Nature is doing only what She has to do to bring earth back into balance, and I'm trying not to fear "losing my life" -- because I know that life is eternal. I'll be part of the continued flow of existence no matter what happens. And so will you. 

Goddess Words 18: Being

"Being" is another one of my Goddess words that exists as both a noun and a verb. Somehow that seems appropriate, especially with this word. It is all-encompassing. Everything that lives is a "being" (noun). At this moment, verb-wise, I am "being human" (or, yesterday, perhaps I was "being" lazy when I decided to take the bus...) It seems that sometimes writers and thinkers contrast being and doing, being "being" more passive, and doing "being" active. At some point in my journey, I heard a speaker talk about the human condition being like those crooning '50's songs ("Do-be-do-be-do"). Certainly a balance of being and doing is inevitable in human existence. Our culture could be said to overemphasize and overvalue "doing"; I won't follow suit here (I have spoken of this a lot recently), just offer a few Saturday morning musings on simply being.

If you can just simply "be" with your channel open to the divine, it is actually a rather active experience, internally. I feel divine energy surging through me more than I ever have. And while that leaves me feeling calm, even in the face of everything that is happening in the world, and not needing to react or respond in kind, staying in a state of "being" feels like its own rich place. It's tingly, alert. I'm trying to think of a good metaphor. Instead of running around, trying to put out all the fires set in the name of hatred, you just stand still with your own lantern lit brightly. It's about glowing, not trying to force preconceived fixes on the world's problems. Just shedding enough light that hopefully others will see situations, themselves, differently. 

Those of us who have spent any part of their lives being creative artists may feel more comfortable than others with the rich state of "not doing"...we know that solitary study, practicing, painting, writing, reading and thinking are what creates our "doing". Most of us have rarely been paid for these long, preliminary hours -- it's interesting that in the modern world's high tech sector, people often are paid for this development time. I guess it boils down to what the culture-at-large has decided is crucial to humanity's future, and thus worthy of support. I see it the other way around, as ever...that if any human societies survive the coming environmental/energetic/spiritual changes, it will be because of those of us nurturing our being-ness right now, and doing less. 

I guess my song is "Be-be-be-be-do-be-be-be-be-do..." Especially right now. Stillness is needed to get used to the relative openness of an inner spiritual channel. Stillness is needed to hear the song of the earth, the motets of the Universe. Quietly, I am getting used to what Goddess "clothes" feel like, and learning to discern out of the silence when I am genuinely called to "do". 

International Women's Day

Given the fact that I have such a different way of looking at everything, I guess it is no surprise that I'm a bit on the fence about today, International Women's Day. 

I think of my grandmother, Winnifred Wilton, and how she became the first woman lawyer in Manitoba during World War I; her budding career ended in 1920 upon her marriage and becoming pregnant with her first child. I think of my mother, a born leader, campaigning in the early 60's to become the first woman on our church's vestry (governing body), only for the rector to tower over her and, in a booming voice, declare, "Over my dead body, my dear!" And those of you who know me or who have followed this blog know about my lifetime of largely unsuccessful efforts to contribute to the world of English church music. I confess that sometimes, I am not as enthused as I should be when women do make it in formerly all-male careers and endeavors, and I am sorry about that. It is a shortcoming, pure and simple, the result of too many years of sadness and frustration, and something I still need to work on at this late date!

Yet, as always, there is a deeper level to this. I mean, when a construct is so rigid that women and other groups have to fight so hard to gain entrance, I have to ask myself, is this a paradigm that can ever be good for all of us? How many more centuries will we have to "fight" until every day is beneficial to women? How many more centuries will it take for women to be truly respected and celebrated, no matter who they are and what they "accomplish"? Will human life on earth last long enough to find out? Seriously.

One of the hardest things to do in the face of all this is quietly set the spiritual and intellectual groundwork for a more women-friendly world. I hate being invisible, and I hate feeling like I am "doing nothing", and being accused of doing nothing. Yet I can't seem to do activities (paid or volunteer) that will help our current model be a better place, because deep down, I don't think it is possible. And since I don't believe in conflict, I cannot and will not fight the old paradigm. I must respect my own inner silent "coming about" (sailing jargon) into the new tack that is Goddess-centered. I must send out as much love as I can to a world that is, itself, "coming about", whether it knows it or not... 

Snow

It is snowing this morning, lightly. We had about three inches of wet snow overnight. Indeed, the Twin Ports area has had higher than usual snowfall over this winter season, although it has spread out over many small precipitation events. There is a truism in Duluth that, as hard as its brutal frigid winter temperatures, short spring-summer-fall seasons, and occasional blizzards are to take, if you are fortunate enough to live under a warm roof, you can stay "safe" -- unlike in tornado-, hurricane-, and wildfire-prone parts of the country. Your house won't blow away, float away, or burn. But what's happening in the mountains of California is a reminder that blizzards aren't always safe, or survivable. Entire communities are snowed in, and people are stuck in their homes, running out of food and medicine. I've experienced three three-foot (plus or minus) snowfalls, and it takes many days for a community to dig out from that. Trying to conceive of four-, five-, six-foot snowfalls is almost impossible. I can imagine looking out the window to a wall of snow, but it is a terrifying thought. It must be like being buried alive. Those who survive will have had a shamanic experience, whether they think of it that way or not. People without power and/or buried in snow -- in the very state that has birthed so many technologies that require power -- are effectively (albeit temporarily) thrown back hundreds of years to the time before these technologies.

It's going to be interesting to see how long it takes for average people (not climate scientists) to see the connection between increasing numbers of extreme events and human activities. As "states of emergency" are called more and more frequently, when will we understand that we are the emergency? Unfortunately, when that does happen, many will be tempted to fall into a well of self-hatred, and the hatred of other humans, but we do not have time for either of those reactions. The path forward is to start now to work with Nature, and to respect Her. To understand our oneness with Her. These storms are not "just snow". They are Nature's way of begging us to see Her, align with Her, and take planet Earth's needs into consideration in everything we do, make, invent or create going forward. 

Musings

I was potentially wrong about something, and the following is written in the spirit of acknowledging when that happens...in the week or so since our big storm, which sent huge waves crashing into Park Point and winter surfers out into the water, the weather has stayed rather calm, and some light ice cover has formed here at the end of the lake. It's pretty fragile, and the next few days will get into the 30's. The wind is also due to come up tomorrow...so it's unlikely to stay put or solidify. But it was humbling to make a blog pronouncement about lack of ice on the lake, only to look out the next morning and see...yup...ice on the lake. But it does rather illustrate the whole point about Nature being in charge!

Yesterday, I went with a friend to a restaurant, one of the few times I have done so yet since the pandemic. It still doesn't feel quite comfortable for me, especially as I still wear a mask on city buses and in grocery stores, etc. With my income, eating out is a treat, not the norm...having largely been deprived of this treat for three years, what can I say? It was delightful, more so because I had a belated celebratory birthday cocktail, another rare treat. I had walked out the door wearing nice earrings and lip gloss, without my signature "bag lady" grocery bags, and darn it, it was just nice to feel a little bit special, beautiful, and worthy of good things.

Came home to the bro-ha-ha over the latest crime/trial sensation out of South Carolina. You know which one I am talking about. Once again, I was struck by the odd thing about American life. Often it seems like dozens, if not hundreds or thousands, of people are employed to deal with criminals -- from police and their scientific/crime scene support, to the legal system (attorneys, paralegals and other firm staff, the prison system), to the media (including podcasts and TV true crime series and Hollywood), to book authors, psychologists, the list goes on and on...yet those of us who are harmless -- even, arguably "good" human beings -- don't attract attention, create jobs, inspire made-for-TV movies. "Goodness" doesn't make money in quite the same way, or isn't "supported" in the same way...Hmm...

Thankful to be in a relatively temperate spot on a relatively quiet weekend. Many people don't have that luxury today. My heart goes out to them. 

Starting from Within

This is another one of those days when I come to a blank screen and am not entirely sure how to fill it. The painter in me used to hate a blank canvas, yet strangely, when I write recently, I actually welcome the moment where I face the empty space. 

I don't know about where you are, but the last few days have been rather rocky out here in the Upper Midwest. Wednesdays seem to have become our day of the week for storms -- what had been predicted to be a fast-moving, small snow "clipper" event turned into 6-12 inches, with wailing winds and impossible driving and walking conditions. I am grateful (as ever) to have chosen the contemplative life for now; but even a two-plus block walk to a church for a Lenten organ recital became a real Little House on the Prairie event! I'm at that age where putting my foot down and not knowing what's down there is truly scary. I was thankful to get back in one piece, and even to have the energy to do some shoveling, to pull out the trash bin to the road, etc.

Maybe the world has always been too much, but right now, is it ever, too, too much! My friends who have traditionally been involved in peace, justice, and other similar activities seem to be hitting hard personal walls. As a society, we had made so much progress, yet now much of it is melting away, particularly for women. Although I struggle with guilt, I'm rather glad that activism was not my calling. It was never about standing aside, but about my calling having been about trying to bring more beauty into the world through choral music, art, writing and crafts. Today, gone is the small degree to which I wanted to do these things to "fight" the world's ills/balance them out. Now, I want simply to be as beautiful as I can and exude peace for the sake of beauty and peace, not as a reaction to other people's choices. Our positive energies are a form of creative power, and those of us at a certain age shouldn't feel like failures at all (especially not in the middle of the night, as per my last post!) if we are not racing around creating, fixing, fighting, and/or distracting ourselves from our fears. Wouldn't it be lovely if every woman on earth could spend just one hour a day within herself -- lovingly "holding" her own beautiful heart and allowing it to grow? And if we could exude that energy of nurturing love even when we are watching distressing news programs or spending time with friends in crisis. Wouldn't it be lovely if we were not given the message that we're not doing enough, that Love itself is not enough.

I guess I am realizing that Creator/Creatrix Love is so much bigger than any motet that I sing, or painting I can paint, or essay I can write. It's even bigger than any human movement or societal cause. It's not a case of throwing up my hands and giving up on operating in the world, but a case of saying, from now on, it's the Love that is important, and that has to start from within. I cannot fix other people's lack of Love. Only they can -- from within.