Vanishing Words and Concepts

I've reached the point where I seem to be writing only "if I knew I were going to die tomorrow" kind of posts, things that I've held back on or wasn't quite ready to say but need to address now. To my dear friends, don't get me wrong. I don't think I'm going to die tomorrow, and I don't want to most days (if only because I'm curious about how things are evolving!) But our outer world is in the kind of state that seems to suggest "no more putting things off"!

A few years ago, I think I touched on this, but let's go a little further. If (as I believe) we are entering a new, post-duality paradigm where love is the only real energy, there will simply be no more "evil" and no need to be saved from evil. So one word that I think will thus become mostly obsolete is "salvation" (and all its related words like "savior"). This won't be because some all-powerful ruler declares its removal from the dictionary and forbids us from saying it, but because it no longer serves a purpose. Although there will always be "contrast" (and I appreciate Abraham-Hicks' use of that word, which inspires me still!), the kinds of virulent threats from which we must be saved are unlikely to be a big part of our future world. 

For years, I think I have been operating post-salvation, along with everything else (!) I mean, I haven't thought I could be "saved" by religious leaders, politicians, teachers, a job, an amount of money, a physician or therapist, buying a car or home, buying a new washer-dryer or wardrobe, finding a spouse, or learning new skills. Yes, I always teetered on the edge of thinking a return to the U.K. might "save" me, but all these years later, I'm still an American living in the U.S., so even that lifelong notion is slowly fading away. And personally, I don't believe any manmade technologies or efforts will ultimately save us from war, climate chaos, pandemic or the other big challenges of our time. 

The only way to navigate the emerging paradigm will be to align within oneself with love, which will draw us to love outside ourselves, and also create new love. It's as simple and hard as that. The "savior" we are looking for is the connection to divine love within us. (Thus, the people who don't appear to have the ability to love will find this a harder and harder world to navigate.) I guess this is why I'm becoming increasingly upbeat. A more beautiful and loving world is what I always wanted to live in; it is something that doesn't have to be fought for, and I don't have to spend my life grasping for a savior. All I need to do is open my own floodgates and stop holding back; being my unique variation on a loving self/expressing beauty and my truth will automatically change the world for the better. (With my background, it's hard using so many "I" statements. But this blog reflects my journey and lessons learned, and each person must find their own path...) More vanishing words and concepts to come...if they haven't vanished before I get to them!

Are they the same thing?

As many of you know who have been following this blog, I have been presenting (one by one) a list of "Goddess Words" that I wrote out sometime in the mid-2000's. Also, at times, I have tried to express the "place" I seem to be at, which is post-duality, for lack of a better word. Along the way, I have been trying to figure out whether they are the same thing; whether a "Goddess world" would be, by definition, more unified and harmonic, and less conflict-driven. My assumption has been that it would be, but I don't know that I can confidently answer that question at this moment in history!

Yesterday, I read carefully through my original list, hand-written on a sheet of heavy cardboard. I was interested to see that the words (over 140 of them) focused on the qualities of a potential Goddess being, or a being who fully embodied the divine feminine.  I guess fifteen or twenty years ago, I was a little less interested in what kind of bigger culture such beings (on the spiritual or human plane!) might usher in. A number of words don't show up on the list: peace, unity, harmony, oneness, nature...Hmm...

I'm just throwing this out there for people to think about. I know that, ultimately, who I am and what I am is not political, or economic, or religious, or scientific, or societal. It's that certain things (war, violence, hatred, conflict, profit, ownership, ugliness, fear) only barely compute. My heart and brain cannot function from those places, and I watch much of what happens in the world like a bad movie. When people say, "all humans are capable of violence", for instance, I really don't think that is true. But whether I can only resonate with and envision a world in harmony because of values that are arguably feminine, or whether I would be much the same person if my spiritual path had taken me in a more traditional religious direction, I don't know.

So this is just a "check-in" to acknowledge what I don't know. (I suppose if I were truthful about that, this post would run to a million pages!!!) May your weekend bring you a measure of peace and beauty in the midst of all our uncertainties.

Summer of '23

I woke up in the night to the sound of rain, and it's a measure of how unusually dry this summer has been that it came as such a surprise. I don't think we got a whole lot in total, and given how smoky our skies have been from Canadian and Western wildfires, I dare say that the rain contained a fair amount of toxicity. I tried unsuccessfully to release that thought...but never did get back to sleep.

Locally, in addition to the smoke and the drought, this summer will be remembered as the beginning of a revamped public bus system, with new routes, route numbers and schedules, and changed or removed stops. To say that all of us dependent on the bus are somewhat anxious would be an understatement. This week is the last on the old schedule, and I am throwing in trips to places that either will no longer be accessible, or will be, in a new way. An extra block has already been added to my walk to the bus stop, which would have been a piece of cake 20 years ago, but at post-65, it's significant. Right now, it is doable, but from November through April, you have to factor snow, ice, walking uphill or downhill in the street because sidewalks aren't always shoveled, etc. Hopefully this will be balanced out by more frequent buses, and more easy access to a few key destinations. No doubt all of us -- riders, drivers, and city officials -- have our fingers crossed for a smooth transition.

Thankfully, we still have a city to take the bus around. The summer of '23 may well be remembered as the one when as a world community, we finally grasped that global warming could mean entire neighborhoods, towns and cities being burned to the ground, covered in mud, or flowing away. I don't think any of us (myself included) completely understood that reality. I must be in the minority, but I find it is making me even more Goddess/Gaia/Mother Nature/Nature-centered ...and strangely grateful to be alive to watch this transition. I am glad She is doing what She needs to do to re-balance and re-vitalize this earth plane. My heart seems to be opening up more and more, as the process progresses. That's what I will remember most about the summer of '23.

An Old Story

The story I'm telling today is only "old" in the sense that it happened almost thirty years ago, and to some extent I've been anxious about telling it. However, if it will ever be relevant, I guess it is now!

Back in, I think, 1995, I spent a summer working at Omega Institute. I had left the corporate world only five years earlier, but I already knew that, in effect, I was "up a creek without a paddle" (or whatever expression you prefer!) The world of my musical passion not having been open to me, and having gotten off the corporate train, I realized that there wasn't one area of modern American life that I enthusiastically wanted to work in. Worse, although I probably could not have articulated the reasons for it yet, I was coming to understand that my values were completely 180 degrees opposite most of those in our culture. I didn't want to profit. I didn't want to own. I didn't want to compete. I didn't want the consumerist way of life I saw around me. I knew my experience from this point forward would probably be a struggle, and I saw the opportunity to work in exchange for food and a tent platform as momentary relief.

Part of the agreement was that at some point during the summer, I would be able to attend the workshop of my choice. Now, that ended up being harder to schedule than I thought, and in fact, I didn't end up in the workshop of my choice but perhaps rather the one where I would hear something I needed to hear. At the question-and-answer time, one young participant brought up the fact that he had seen an interesting chart, perhaps in a magazine article, I don't remember. Someone had created a graph that showed the history of human inventiveness...how, early in history, we created new technologies rather slowly, and the line stayed almost horizontal for many thousands of years. But back several thousand years ago, the pace of our inventions (of tools, etc.) began to pick up, rising quite strikingly during the Industrial Revolution. Of course, in the 20th century, the rate of change rose exponentially, and was reaching the point where the line on the graph would go straight up vertically. A discussion ensued about when we thought this moment would happen, and what would happen next. The general consensus of participants in the class was that there would be some kind of breaking point, where the "line" would fold back on itself, and we would be sent backwards to an earlier phase of human technological development. 

Of course, if I was finding it difficult to engage "normally" in the world already, this discussion cemented the deal. It was hard to take most of our constructs seriously, sensing even in myself that they were not beautiful or sustainable. More recently, the environmental piece of this has come far more to the forefront than it was in the '90's...on the news this morning, someone was commenting on how toxic the smoke in Maui was because of manmade materials, and that this toxicity would extend also to the water and soil for years to come. It's astonishing that we're only now thinking about these things. How could we have even considered filling the world with such materials without any concern for their eventual disposal in the best or worst case scenarios? 

I guess the reason it's taken so long to tell the graph story is that I know that there is a lot of human fear surfacing, and I've even had to face that in myself. In me, it's mitigated somewhat by having become clear that a) there is no death in the divine mind and b) love and beauty will survive whatever comes. Last night, I heard a remarkable string quartet and pianist, and I was reminded of how musicians, artists, craftspeople, poets, and most creators of beauty have always had the key: create beauty. Nourish joy. Create only things that healthily support life on earth and the earth itself. 

D and D

OK, first "D". Dreams. For two nights in a row, I have had very surprising dreams. I'd almost go so far as to say, "shocking". The two members of my immediate family who were, in life, most incapable of being caring or spontaneously helpful came to me in dreams to offer assistance. I guess that's all I will say. For years, I have tried to figure out whether such people are new souls, who do not yet know how to act lovingly, or old souls playing a teaching role in a given incarnation. These dreams have added a little weight to the latter possibility...in any event, it has been personally healing.

Second "D". Deadheading plants with friends. Recently I visited a friend who has had a challenging summer of loss and illness. In the midst of it, she had to leave an enormous plant outside uncared for, and there were hundreds of dead blooms. So we sat on the deck, she on one side of the flowerpot and me on the other, talking and deadheading. Every ten minutes or so, she would rotate the plant about a quarter turn, and we would continue pulling off the dead flowers. I wonder if this should be "a thing". I mean, what a good way to talk about hard subjects with an old friend. It keeps your hands busy, and your eyes on the plant, but your soul and ears are engaged in a uniquely focused way. 

Lastly (I love things that come in threes, but I don't think there is a "D" in this!) -- I did a surprising thing for me, at least these days. I was rather rude to someone at, of all places, the local farmer's market. An older woman (even older than me!) looked to be jumping the queue/line, and I somewhat testily said to her, "Don't you know that there's a line?" The worst of it is, my apology (such as it was) was something that wouldn't be likely to be interpreted as such in northern Minnesota. I said, "Oops, sorry. Being a pushy New Yorker". I mean, fascinating that I still consider myself a New Yorker (although it makes some sense since, to this day, I've spent more time in New York State and City than anywhere else). But it really wasn't an apology, because I didn't say, "Sorry, that was rude of me." And I feel bad for reinforcing an overused stereotype. The universe doesn't usually give me much leeway -- my boomerangs of "not love" usually come back almost immediately. On this occasion, I'm not aware of any bad karma later in the day, perhaps because I realized so quickly that I had been snarky. Still, I'm not sure why that milieu put me on edge. Strange.

Life lessons galore, eh?

...Then Ashes

Our hot and dry conditions thankfully lessened somewhat yesterday with the arrival of a small amount of much-needed rain. Heavenly to listen to, and nourishing to grass, soil, and soul. Not enough to erase a drought, but welcome nonetheless. Thankfully, only a few small wildfires in the vicinity...so far.

But this is an interconnected world, and I "feel" the disastrous scene in Maui as if it were in my own bones. And if I had even the slightest doubt as to the seriousness of the situation facing us, it evaporated upon seeing the drone footage of the burned line of cars trying to escape the fires. As much as I understand officials trying to reassure people that things will be rebuilt, you just have to wonder, when will we all "get" that that is the problem in the first place? 

The other day, these words came to me: "Clearly I wasn't preparing for what what I thought I was preparing for." I've spoken recently of the life I thought I had wanted to live, and the life my background might have suggested I would lead. If, 40 years ago, I had gone directly from my University of London master's studies to a musical, creative life in that city, it probably would have been a far more fulfilling life...and I'm still sorry it didn't happen. But if that had become my "normal", I would now be far less prepared for the time we are entering. Having had to regroup and regroup and regroup -- and live on the margins -- has forced me to look at our world more truthfully, I suppose. I see truth breaking out all over the place, and I see it with different eyes than I would have if I had been settled and happy.

People probably wonder, what brings you joy in these times? And I guess it is the emergence of truth, of love, and of the embracing power of the divine feminine. It's the promise of new paradigms emerging out of the ashes.

 

Hot and Dry

The north country of Minnesota is hot, and extremely dry. Not as hot as much of the U.S., but unbelievably dry. Every time they call for rain, it just doesn't happen. You can see the line of green approaching on the radar, and then it just simply breaks up, a combination of the "head of the lake" effect and simple drought...not enough moisture. Yards are crisp brown, many trees are losing their leaves early, and then to add to it all, we have continued to experience regular smoke and haze. It is all so surreal, especially as we had the snowiest winter on record. I yearn to hear the sound of the rain, and its beautiful smell. Speaking of sounds, I just heard a bird singing that I would associate with the American south...I've never been there, but it just simply did not sound like a Minnesota bird. No doubt the extreme southern temperatures are sending birds all over the place, just to survive.

Late July and early August have been hard for me for decades. It is the time of year in England when there are dozens of music and other festivals. In 2017, it was this time of year that I sang with a choral group at Canterbury Cathedral. But can you believe I have never been to the Three Choirs Festival? Or the Southern Cathedrals Festival? Or the Proms, or Glyndebourne (I'm not big on opera, but I'd love to attend that festival!) It's the time of year, too, for alternative events focusing on things like Crop Circles and the Goddess. I've always imagined what it would be like to live somewhere in southern England and go from event to event, and just binge. But this has never been within the realm of the possible, for many reasons, especially money. Most of my recent trips to the UK have been in winter, a slightly cheaper time to travel, and when I could temporarily leave our bitter temperatures for slightly warmer ones.

I spoke the other week of having wanted to attend something in England, and it was last week's Goddess festival in Glastonbury. Once I realized it was happening this year, I had a frenzied day or two trying to figure out if there was any way to arrange it at such short notice. Having decided there wasn't, I tried to arrange taking part in the online event. But in the end, even that didn't work...that's all I'll say. I had to work through some shame and frustration, not to mention that sense of feeling -- not "hot and dry" but "high and dry". So exiled, so far -- for a whole lifetime -- from things that interest and captivate me. And perhaps because of the Goddess and my unconventional values, never finding a way to the financial power to "just do it" -- whatever "it" is!

But I spoke of the "dog and pony show" -- certainly this event (which is quite large) reflects someone else's take on the Goddess, not mine, and I knew it might not be right for me when I envisioned sitting on the sidelines most of the time. I would love more than anything to meet some women like me, powerfully aligned with the values of the divine feminine, but not witches or Wiccans, or pagans, per se. And could there possibly be one or two Goddess women anywhere in the world whose spiritual practice is choral evensong?!

So my Goddess festival last week cost me $1.50 round trip. I took the city bus down Park Point, and got off and walked to the beach. I had my bathing suit on under a sundress, and I took two quick swims in the brisk water. Then I wrote a prayer to the Goddess, and read it three times, basically saying, "Here I am. I am in northern Minnesota, not England, and I am yours. Help me to do what you need me to do right now, and moving forward." I had a snack, I listened to happy children and watched my favorite horizon, unusually free of approaching ships. Then I packed up again, minced across the hot sand, and waited for the next bus. I guess you could call me a satellite event!

Circles of Wisdom

At the moment, I could be writing in this blog 24 hours a day, and still never reach the point where I was expressing all the truths I'm sensing about everything that is happening, inwardly and outwardly. The fact that I haven't written in nearly a week does not mean I have nothing to write about! In fact, it has been almost an overwhelming time.

Superficially, what I have decided to write about today has little or nothing to do with all these things, but I guess that's why it might be a good day to cross this particular threshold. 

I cannot be the only person wondering if there were ways we humans might have operated in the world that would not have led to a climate precipice. I've thought a lot about this, and of course I think, "yes."

At some early point in human history, we might have chosen to see power differently, as something shared, in what I'll call "circles of wisdom". (Although this would probably have meant more inclusivity of women, I don't see it ultimately as needing to be about feminism.) Early communities might have chosen, say, ten or twelve of the wisest people amongst them, and these circles would have gathered regularly to address everything that was necessary even in those days -- food, shelter, security, weather issues, and so forth. If a "leader" was necessary, the leadership would regularly move around the group so that no one person got used to being in charge. The "power" of the wisdom circle would exude out to the whole community, like rays from the sun, but also move from the wider group, in.

In this circle, there would be at least one person considered qualified to speak for our earth home, someone with a strong intuitive connection with the land and its other creatures. Whenever the group was considering any question that related to use of the land, air or water -- be it expanding the community, building more buildings, growing more crops, digging under the surface for resources, damming a river, or new technologies that might have an oversized effect on the earth -- the proposal would be put to this "speaker for the earth". She or he would seriously consider the potential new development, and have the last word on whether it was an equally healthy step forward for the planet. Whenever possible, this person would help modify the idea to earth-friendly workability. 

Human "progress" would have moved far more slowly, because this way of operating would have meant adapting our wishes to earth's needs. I can hear people now. "That is crazy. We would never have made any serious progress! We would have virtually none of our industries, conveniences, modes of transportation, or modes of communication! We would be back in the Dark Ages!"

Yup. But we and earth would have grown together, in tandem, supporting each other. And that doesn't sound so bad to me right now.