The Life I Didn't Live

This isn't going to be about self-pity.  I hope, anyway!

It's been a hard week, and for the moment I'll put aside everything happening in the world and here in northern Minnesota. I'll even put aside the England thing, per se. It's about the ways in which my family and its early imprint broke my heart, and has left such a confusing legacy, the omnipresent ghost of a life I didn't live.

Two boxes that I have had in storage (for years now) arrived last week, and I finally tackled the bigger of the two early this morning. I think I alluded the other week to the fact that much of the material in it would constitute what little is left of my "WASP" inheritance...I don't think all of it put together is worth much more than the $700 or so  my dad left me, and I didn't expect to get emotional over these items, but I did. The little silver picture frames, the monogrammed mirrors and brushes, the tiny gold child's bracelet, my grandmother's clothing from a century ago and a few items of clothing she made for me in the 1950's. My childhood scrapbook, the little beribboned baby cards (presumably sent out with the birth announcements), and then, jumping way ahead, my three college diplomas (!) 

I have never really lived the life of an upper crust, blue blood aristocrat, American or British, with the arguable exception of a few years in the late 1960's. But that was the milieu of my upbringing. My father's family had, I think, been hangers on in that world for several generations, but there was absolutely no family money. Dad himself never made any money to speak of; there were a few years of seeming affluence but it all turned out to be an illusion. During much of the 1970's and 80's, after Dad left GE, my parents lived in utter poverty. Eventually, he would essentially live out his golden years on money that had come to my mother and was then supposed to come to us children. Oh well. 

As for me, I didn't marry a wealthy young man "of good family" and end up in one of the posh New York suburbs...and putting English church music and my art talent aside, I now understand that I completely didn't believe in our capitalist system and probably could never have thrived or prospered on my own within it. Even if now, by some miracle, I were transported into a lovely cottage of my own with oriental carpets and a grand piano to put the silver picture frames on, I'd be so aware of the inequities of the system that I would rarely enjoy myself. And had I married, I probably would have long since divorced a husband whose life centered on making money. I see that world too clearly, and know that, if nothing else, it is dying.

Still, every minute of every day, there is this upper crust Liz walking around in the body of a nondescript older woman in the upper midwest. The person people see truly isn't all that I am. I think what is the most painful, and perhaps what continues to lead me to dream of England, is the imprint of beauty, and the need for beauty. Beautiful things: fabrics, paintings, silverware, glassware, music, landscape, architecture. No wonder I watch "Antiques Road Trip"!

Another thing struck me though, as I tried to take in all the objects I had unwrapped and placed on my bed. Think of all the people who did everything "right", and yet in the last few years have had homes float away downriver or burn up in fires. And yet here I am, having really never had a permanent home to speak of, having done nothing "right", and yet finally my precious things have caught up with me. I am blessed in so many ways, including having amazing friends!

Some of this stuff is going to find its way to new homes or collectors. Some of it I have unwrapped just enough so it can breathe for a few weeks. Most of it has been boxed up most of my life, so it needs to see the light before I make final decisions. Even though it represents the life I didn't live, and couldn't have created for myself, it is still an important facet of me, and I am glad to be reunited.

Goddess Words 21: Here

Among the many things I am not, is a theologian. I have never studied, in any scholarly way, how God is transcendent and how "he" (at least in the traditional religions) is immanent. My schoolgirl impression probably remains much as it was when I was singing in the girls' choir at St. George's Episcopal Church in Schenectady...that overall, God is a white-haired man in heaven, far from earth, that he transcends (or exists above) the earth plane and its limitations and (whether metaphorically, or literally, or both) looks down on us from this exalted place. In an effort to connect with humans and have the experience of living in our world (and to be immanent, or present, in that sense), he sent his son to earth for a short lifetime two thousand years ago.

It could be said that the rites, rituals, choral music, Prayer Book language, and art/architecture of Anglicanism (and its roots in Catholicism) glorify the distance between "man" and God. Think of those long, incense-infused Easter processions to the altar, Jesus hovering high in the stained-glass skies, God reaching a fingertip out to Adam in the Sistine Chapel, from the clouds. When I said the confession, I told God that I was not worthy to "gather up the crumbs" under his table...He was like a powerful medieval king at a banquet, at the high table, and I was a nothing, less than a serf. In the intervening years, church language changed and I changed, but what I must not have lost was a powerful sense of frustration with this imagery. Even my introduction to Quakerism (and references to "that of God" within all of us) didn't help me break free of that notion of a distant, all-powerful man running everything, but not really caring for "here".

It is interesting that I included the word "here" in my "Words of the Goddess" list written fifteen or twenty years ago. I mean, it's not like the debate over "where God is"  ever had a place in my thoughts. And even in the early 2000's, I had still done relatively little reading about Goddess consciousness. Only in the last few years have I read some classics in that genre that are at least 40 years old.

This list of Goddess words blew out of me, "channelled", I suppose. It was like all the qualities I had personally been hiding from the world, writing them down fast and before I had a chance to edit myself or second-guess myself, or fill myself with the shame of unworthiness. This list described the Goddess, but it also described me, and it was an enormous relief. And in an odd way, I wonder if the most important word on the list is, "Here". I am here. You are here. We are here. She is here, and yes, the male aspect of the divine is here too. We all exist. We are the creation. For the purposes of a traumatized earth in the hottest summer on record, the divine "here-ness" is the crux of the matter. Everything we see, everything we step on and feel, everything we breathe, nature in all its forms, is us and is the divine. For generations, we seemed to cavalierly dismiss earth's inherent worth, but She is the divine. 

It will be tempting, going forward, to run for the hills. To "get out of here", to go where it is safer. But such a place will probably not exist as earth goes through the kinds of changes that are coming. If possible, stay "here". Be in the present, honor the earth wherever you are, in whatever form She presents this day, and say, "I am here". Yes, this from a woman who spent most of her life trying to find a way to live in another country. It didn't happen, and for the moment, I am here. I am where I am. If the Goddess is everywhere on earth, I might as well experience her here. She has her transcendent side too, but we've had enough for the moment of that theological concept. The lesson of these times is the divinity of "here". 

Women's Intuition

As my readers know, I have been relying very little on outside sources for my observations and thoughts. In that sense, I have gone completely against my extensive education, journalism experience, and even the preferences of some of my friends. Why is this? Well, the more I have experienced a "way of knowing" that comes from within me, and the more I have come to trust it, I just simply haven't wanted to mess it up with a lot of other material. I guess you could say that I want a clear channel to my own divine messages and impressions. When I was younger, such "women's intuition" was largely dismissed, and probably like many women, I hid my inner wisdom. But in a world on the brink, it's like, if not now, when? It's not the perfect term for women's right brain/immediate/creative ways of knowing, but we need to get it out of the closet, brush it off, and start honoring it.

So, in the news there have been two really interesting and, to me, discordant reactions to this month's extreme weather events. As ever, I don't expect anyone to agree...I just put out "the message I am getting" for people to consider.

The first was hearing that there are efforts being made to sue states (and I presume other institutions) for having put populations at risk by not preventing global warming. This makes me sad on several levels. First of all, conflict of any kind will only add to the chaos, unnecessarily. Second of all, this is the final act, if you will, in a long "play" where institutions all over the world have not adequately honored women, the feminine face of the Divine, or our earth home/Mother Earth/Gaia. This situation has been building for thousands of years, and ultimately is about ways of thinking more than ways of acting. I mean, we have acted as we have because of what we thought and believed. It would be far more powerful right now for a handful of new people to believe in honoring the earth, and to start to act from that place of love, than for entire populations to fight each other, in court or elsewhere.

And I keep hearing phrases like, "once we get global warming under control" or "when we find solutions to climate change". Ditto above! Our current ways of believing and acting cannot provide "solutions" to the monumental place we are at. I say "place" rather than "problem", because there is so much more going on here (including graduation to higher levels of universal love) -- and if we fight every manifestation of climate change, we might also block the entry of new waves of love. I'm so sensitive to narcissism these days (yes, even my own!); somewhere in the midst of all this transformation, we have to remember that humans are not the highest (or only) power in this scenario. We are not ultimately in control, much as we would like to be.

That's how my personal women's intuition is speaking today.

Temptation

This has been an odd two days in Duluth. Finally, hot (by most standards anyway), but exceedingly heavy smoke from western Canada has socked in. Yesterday was the first day that my eyes, nose and throat were burning. Starting about noon, the sun literally looked red. It remains dry, and the wind was almost literally blowing tumbleweeds down the street. Yet my home turf of upstate New York, the Champlain Valley, and Vermont is being overwhelmed with water. More on that some other day.

Yes, I am reframing a lot of assumptions based on my growing awareness that most aspects of the divine feminine manifest in the world as the opposite of the manmade constructs in place. This past week, a very tempting opportunity arose, and I have been in rather a dither over whether to pursue it. The newest incarnation of me is examining it much more closely than I might have in the past.

Those of us brought up Christian may have said the words of the Lord's Prayer thousands of times: "Lead us not into temptation". We were imploring God to keep "sin" far from us (although it is rather interesting that this particular wording seems to imply that it is God himself doing the tempting!) When major male spiritual figures have been faced with temptation, it seems to have come in the form of earthly power, sex, addictions, money, violence, and so forth -- and I suppose, speaking only for myself, that when I said the Lord's Prayer as a young woman, those were the kinds of sins I assumed might eventually tempt me too, even though now, late in life, I can't say they ever have.

So I'm now wondering if the "temptations" that face women are generally far more subtle, and contrary. I'm wondering if we are sometimes "tempted" to keep reaching for the good outside ourself, not believing it isn't in us already.

This week, I learned about an event that, on first glance, I dearly wish to attend. It will be taking place far from Minnesota, and yet I wasn't daunted by that any more than I have been many times over the years, in trips to England or California, for instance. (For the moment, I'll stay quite general about this until I have made some final decisions.) Especially in the wake of having metaphorically "packed my bags" over the last month or so, my logical brain said, this is what you were packing for, Liz. Go for it!

But I held off, and I guess I am glad I did. Several layers of important pro-and-con considerations came into my consciousness, and I am in the middle of addressing them. 

Ultimately, it boils down to this: this event is someone else's "dog and pony show". That certainly doesn't make it invalid. But I've reached the point where I have to ask: what is a better way to expend what little courage (and money) I have? By making last-minute arrangements to attend this thing, or by creating my own "dog and pony show"?! Will I, once again, be trying to fit into someone else's vision rather than expressing my own? Will I be reaching for love, validation and recognition that I first need to give myself? 

As a woman, I am too used to being forced out of my comfort zone into participating in constructs that feel wrong for me, knowing that it might be the only way to survive in our culture. The temptation -- nay, the imperative -- to leave your core truths behind is constant. It's not some leering devil trying to lead you astray...it is friends, family, the media, the entire culture, dictating a norm and trying to pressure you into it. It is only at age 67 that I finally feel it when my inner vibration and my outer experiences match -- or don't. If they don't completely match, whenever I am making a decision large or small, may I have the courage to stay where and who I am, stay thankful, and know I am serving the divine She in my own way, however I ultimately choose to proceed. May I stay calm. May I not add to the storms around me.

Looking Back

One of the strangest/hardest parts of my life has been the impression I have often had that I am a being of the future, "looking back" at the present, or perhaps existing in both realities simultaneously. Our current culture has always seemed so very, very antiquated in many respects, which is only a small part of why I found it so hard to navigate. But I can well imagine people of the future, sitting in a circle, trying in vain to understand how multiple human civilizations all over the world lived under the delusion that they were more powerful than the larger powers of creation. Even individuals felt that way! It will seem impossible that humans were so blind as to ignore the true value and beauty of their earth home -- until it was too late.

Of course, in the end, there will be no "too late" in the sense of complete annihilation. Earth (and all its beings) are in the process of incorporating a major surge of higher spiritual and physical energies. Love is entering and moving through the universe more intensively than ever before. Even putting aside all the upheaval of global climate change, and the other upheavals that will accompany it, a future earth (say, only a century or two from now) will look very different from today because of that higher spiritual tuning, but some people and constructs vibrating on a loving wavelength will be recognizable.

If I had children or grandchildren, what would I tell them now? I would do a visualization with them, where they imagine that they are in a surprising, emptier, mysterious future earth. I would try to walk them through the fears they are feeling, then try to get to the core of what they think a completely new society could look like. If I am not mistaken, many of them would want to start with love and a sense of belonging, and build outwards from there. Since love will be the path from here to there, many young people may be on it already! (And a few of us elders, too....)

Me, Grandmother

Yesterday evening, I took part in a multigenerational picnic, and I had so much fun, I was still glowing happily about it this morning. I was trying to figure out why it seemed so unusual. Of course part of it is that it allowed my brain to stop thinking deep thoughts and just be in the present, laughing and eating with other people. That is a rarity! Part of it is not being a mother or a grandmother, and rarely taking part any more in big family meals. And part of it was realizing that for several years, even outdoor gatherings like this were COVID-awkward. I remember in the height of the pandemic, probably January of 2021, taking part in an outside neighborhood get-together around a bonfire. It was 0 degrees F or so, and while the kids were running around and having a good time, we adults were sitting in chairs spaced well apart, masked or with scarves covering our faces, trying unsuccessfully to talk or drink a soda or beer. Even until recently, I still found gatherings a bit hard, but finally, three summers later, the rough edges of fear seem to be wearing away, certainly in the out-of-doors. 

Another thing is, I was by far the oldest person there, by a good dozen years. A snapshot taken showed me with a halo of white hair -- overall, it's very long now and quite brown, but the white hair is concentrated in the front, of course. I don't mind being the oldest person, but in my vanity, I hate looking like the oldest person! Plus, I was one of the only people in a chair...(!) I guess that made me the unofficial grandmother of the gathering. But in the end, that makes me smile.

I've thought of my Schenectady grandmother quite a bit recently. I think I have previously mentioned that there are photographs of her, oil painting on the rocks in Kennebunkport, Maine, wearing a large, white, floppy-brimmed hat, and that's the kind of hat I wear about town in the summer. The bus drivers recognize me and wave sometimes from across the street! When I was sitting on the rocks near Lake Superior the other day, it was Agnes that I was embodying. And Grandma had a singsong way of speaking sometimes when she told us (her grandchildren) to do something -- I particularly remember, "Eat your beanies" when I was slow to finish my lima beans. I find myself speaking in somewhat the same voice when I speak to dogs and small children (sorry kids!) Most of all, she loved being surrounded by beauty, paintings, books of paintings, art and needlework of all kinds. Ditto, me.

When I said the other day that I'm moving forward carrying far less of the weight of history, it's a reminder: I happily, and proudly, carry "her"story, the threads of connection to my foremothers and their energies. If we are looking for things to "save" the planet as we reach ever higher global temperatures, we only have to look to our grandmothers and their grandmothers. I am so thankful for an unexpected moment of fun, love, good food, and connection, and for embodying a thread in a rich, beautiful weaving that goes back to the dawn of time.

That Independent Feeling

I'm a little too sleepy this morning to be tackling what I think I will be tackling, given the loud on-and-off fireworks nearly all night last night.  It is impossible for me to grasp why recreating the sounds of war is the preferred way of "celebrating" the birth of our country...but I'll let that go for now.

No, I wanted to remind myself (and my readers) about something I said a month or two ago: that I wished to have at least a metaphorical roller bag ready to go after July 4th weekend. That I suspected something new would be afoot by now. And even though it isn't quite manifesting in the way I might have expected, that turned out to be the truth. Because I'm limited in my funds, there's no actual new roller bag in my closet, or more than one or two new pieces of clothing or jewelry (bought at a rummage sale). And some of my boxes remain "out east", which is fine. I haven't bought any plane tickets. To look at me, you wouldn't see a major change from May. But inside, the changes are like an earthquake. Or (ahem!) more earthquakes and tsunamis than usual with me.

A few weeks ago, my dresser display consisted of a selection of photos of English cathedrals, cards from friends, and driftwood from Lake Superior. While not completely "intentional", I think I was trying to merge the sides of me in a visual way. In mid-June, I knew it was time to change this display. I pulled everything off, cleaned and dusted the dresser top, and started over. Interestingly enough, not one item in the new configuration visually refers to England, the cathedrals, the music, anything from that tradition. In the center is a greeting card I bought locally which essentially says, "Only be yourself". It is surrounded by other greeting cards, small bits of artwork, and oracle cards of nature: owls, crows, forests, moons, lakes and stars. The driftwood, too, remains.

This is, not coincidentally perhaps, at the same time that I am re-reading the monumental book about Salisbury, England -- Sarum, by Edward Rutherford. He goes back thousands of years, and envisions the people and historical events of their eras. I am only about halfway through the book, to the building of the cathedral there. And in a process that may have started when I watched the recent coronation, I am feeling much more viscerally than ever the fact that all of the major threads of that country's history are -- literally -- "his" story. Intellectually, I've always known that, of course. But a younger me had to find something in this world to find beautiful, engaging, like a home. I didn't want to dig too far under the surface (even when I enjoyed watching shows like "Time Team"!) If I saw beauty, I didn't want to know the hard truths under the surface. 

Suddenly, now that on a feeling level I am beginning to identify the genuine peace and beauty of a Goddess construct, the events of history (even presented in such an epic and humane way) feel overwhelmingly violent. Whether in my mind's eye, or on TV, or seeing drone photography from above, or through oil paintings, I may never be able to look at England again as my "safe place". As is the case basically all over the world, virtually everything on its proverbial map is manmade, and created with beliefs about the use of the landscape, spirituality, the economy, and relations between peoples and countries, that I don't really share. Does that mean I'll never go back? Not necessarily. But in my head, I'll need to find the "place" where women and earth were/are valued. 

And if there isn't such a place, then I go forward with that energy within me. Since almost all my (few) belongings have to do with history, especially my books, it will be easy to pare back when the moment comes. My "roller bag" will be light. My independent feeling comes from being less tethered to the past than ever. I don't think history or our current constructs will help us too much in the coming years...