My Two Questions

I was too young to take part in the student protests of the late 1960's -- I was, what?, twelve or thirteen. Me being me, I doubt whether I would have taken part even if I had been older, just as I doubt I will do so now. As it has turned out, my whole life has been a "protest" of sorts, since I haven't been able to operate in a duality-driven way in even the most mundane areas of life. Of course, I'd like to think that it was less a "protest against" the way things are than "an effort to find a new way of operating". 

Having said that, after last week, I can hardly say I don't understand or experience anger. As you know, I uncovered a layer of it toward my dad that had been buried for a long time. Yet in the succeeding days, the process has moved rather quickly, first into almost unbearable grief: when you don't experience love or protection as a child, even the most superficial examples of parental (particularly a father's) love seem like something from another planet. What would it be like to be cared for? What would it be like to have your father protect you or unconditionally love or support you? What would it be like for him to take care of you before taking care of himself? What would it feel like to be seen, or deemed worthy of genuine (and appropriate) affection?

Then the process moved on rather quickly again, to the reminder that I've crossed over an invisible line into a world where there are only two questions. 

• Is this what the Goddess would want, or how She would operate?
• Is this Love?

My dad, bless him, was a "no" on both counts, and no amount of outside persuasion or protest or confrontation ever brought him into a different place. It was (and will undoubtedly be, perhaps for lifetimes to come) traumatizing, demoralizing, obliterating, and literally dis-heartening. And yet, in this new Goddess place I'm at, how he operated is also, arguably, completely irrelevant. I can choose to no longer have him as my primary reference point. He could not have changed, but I can (and apparently, have!)

In these times, everyone has their own set of questions and moral guidance. It's interesting that the earlier protests came when people were singing songs like "The Age of Aquarius", and these current protests can be said to be happening as we enter that Age. Hmm... 

I had to chuckle

Over the weekend, I had to chuckle. Of course a woman from a narcissistic background would eventually write a blog about herself! For nine years, no less! And it isn't lost on me that because I rarely refer to specific other people (which is the case because I feel so strongly about other people's privacy), it magnifies the focus on my own journey, putting it kind of in a vacuum. And while I do occasionally talk about world or national events, I figure that these topics are so over-analyzed elsewhere that for the most part, I don't wish to add to the maelstrom. The exception is when there is some spiritual facet to it all that I feel the need to draw attention to.

So why do I do keep writing? It is hard for me to talk about myself, seriously! My every instinct is to pull back into a closet or under a rug and disappear. Much as I deeply want to be heard when I open my mouth (or my computer!), I would never have kept at it this long if it was just about me, or I would have stuck to safer topics like the good spaghetti sauce I made last night or the forsythia blooms just coming out near where I live. 

And it isn't even that I think of the Goddess as kind of a reverse male god, who I have to prove my validity to in my words, to have something to show for myself. I think and hope I am being honest when I say that I keep writing because it is has been so very hard to reach a point where I could begin to define myself on my own terms and by my own standards, not those of society. I didn't have a road map for being the kind of woman I am, and I don't believe many women do! Our lives are valid divine endeavors, no matter what they look like, but we are rarely encouraged to think that they are. (Can you imagine public service announcements inspiring young girls to pursue careers in the arts or spirituality?!) So my "Liz path" is one word after another after another, one footstep after another after another -- this has been all I could do so far to help break that new ground. My "back"ground may have been an ideal training course, but from time to time, early trauma swamps me, and if there are tools to help out, I'll use them.

Anyway, on this cold (35 degrees), windy, miserable day, it's good to have a little laugh. I hope you find something to laugh about too! 

Step by step

As I said last time, I seem to have uncovered some really hard anger around my family, specifically my father. I guess I've been dealing with this for years, but I was really thrown nearly nonfunctional by this most recent layer of the onion. I've been numb, drained. I'm not the kind of person who finds healing in long walks or sitting under a favorite tree. I wish I were, for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that it would be more consistent with my Goddess-centrism. I have, however, found it comforting to do some cooking and baking. On the negative side, I've watched a little too much bad television, and caught a few too many horrifying news reports...hmmmm.

It's always hard to start over with any new practitioner...at the first appointment, it's almost impossible tell a quick story of my life! But on this occasion, I'm not just going to muddle through without help. I owe it to those of you who read this blog, and to my friends, not to leave too much pain or anger just lurking around in my system. I'm grateful to have had the family I did in many ways -- it almost guaranteed that I would end up unconventional! And some of the anger and pain have been catalysts for my feminism and my exploration of new ways of being in the world. But there's a tipping point where it could swamp this fragile little boat of mine, or hurt others, and I don't want either of those outcomes. I'm thankful to live somewhere where there are a few different therapy options.

I often pull one or two oracle cards in the morning, to help me address the challenges of the day or any questions I have. Yesterday, I was shuffling my Motherpeace deck (the cards are round), and about a.half dozen of the cards went flying (literally) out over the edge of the bed to the floor. Two that ended up face up were The Tower and The Fool. It is interesting, in many decks, the Tower figures basically dive head first out of the collapsing structure, which has been hit by lightning -- chaos, life turned upside down. And the Fool is often pictured walking normally, but rather cluelessly, off a cliff or into a raging river. (It signifies the very beginning of the journey, when you are childlike and have a beginner's mind.) In the Motherpeace deck, however, the Tower figure is still upright at the top, seeming to receive shamanic information about the disaster -- and the Fool is walking upside down on her hands into a river.

In my journal, I sketched a little picture of me diving headfirst off the tower and landing safely on my hands in the river. Kind of a blending of the two concepts. As hard as these last few days have been, I feel strangely strong, as if I'm "officially" leaving behind the crumbling structure of my beginnings, and playfully entering the flowing waters of the Goddess. Whatever is going on, I need to walk through the process step by step and not flinch or try to turn back. And I need to not forget love.

Fury

It always seems to happen, and yet for some reason, it always takes me by surprise. Each time I reach a new plateau in my journey (most recently, a new willingness to be defined by my centeredness in the divine feminine, and to go so far as to create some visiting/"business" cards that say so), there's a major pushback.

Sunday morning, far too early, I woke up in what I can only call a state of fury towards my father, who is no longer alive. In a general sense, it had to do with all the ways he put his own well-being ahead of anyone else's -- especially his family's -- and I guess that's all I'll say at the moment. I realize I need to find a therapist locally who has expertise in treating the trauma caused by extreme narcissism. I've been so good at intellectualizing the situation. I believe that, as a soul, I chose this experience in this lifetime, and that I needed to understand such a loveless world from the inside out because it is so prevalent in most of our institutions. And although I stopped communicating with my dad a year or so before his death, I knew that fighting him or his condition was pointless. I've tried to transmute my knowledge into a new focus on the Great Mother.

But clearly, I ended up leaving my own human emotions "under the rug". The little girl who not only felt unloved, but knew for a fact that she was unloved in any genuine sense of the word, is now a 68-year old woman with almost no experience of what it would be like to be cared for. I don't mean rescued, I don't mean loved romantically or swept off my feet. Just what it would be like to be cared for (because of exactly who you are and how extraordinary you are) by a family, a community, and a culture, heading into old age. Thank the Goddess for my female friends in whom I have experienced facets of such love and care. But for heaven's sake, our whole world should be like this! All older women should be guaranteed a beautiful, secure home, and the conditions in which they can best express their loving wisdom and impart it to younger generations.

It's not lost on me that this is Earth Day. And it's also not lost on me that one of the definitions for "fury" is an angry woman. How angry is Mother Earth at centuries of thoughtless defilement? Perhaps all these threads are really a single one. I don't believe that She is likely to express her fury fighting back at us (as we are Her creation). I anticipate acts of transformation and transmutation. And so may I transform and transmute my own fury....

Goddess Words 28: Piercing

It is interesting that I included this word in my original handwritten list. This morning, it seemed to catch my eye as being rather too violent for the qualities I associate with the Goddess. When people (or things) are pierced, it's usually through a protective layer, skin, eardrum, a tree's bark, a layer of soil...most human weapons pierce in some form, and the intention of that action is most often hatred or fear. 

Even the usage I suspect I was thinking about all those years ago -- something like those old-fashioned paintings of female saints being pierced through the heart by the love of God -- is too potentially painful for me now. It is my impression that the Goddess really doesn't work that way.

Hmmm...so, does this word still belong on my list? If so, this is energetically how I would see it today: If love is really the only true energy that exists (and everything else is just human blockage of the power of love), the way that love reaches our inner core is through the pathways that we open up. From my earliest years, I built up substantial walls to protect myself, emotionally, and it has only been one-brick-at-a-time that I have started to dismantle these walls. And whether I knew it or not, I have been inviting love in. As our walls come down, Love comes in. It cannot help seeking out more places to "be love". So if love finally reaches our hearts, it isn't violence from without or piercing in an old-fashioned sense, so much as our withdrawal of resistance. We finally start letting love in, and it surges, as the water does when the dam breaks down. At first this may "hurt" somewhat as we get used to new shapes and life energies, but if what we are experiencing is genuinely love, that is our natural state and we will acclimate. 

Definitely a word to keep mulling over, however...for the person I am today, it still "feels" a little too sharp.

The Voice of Beryl

A few years ago (and I seriously don't remember when this was...two, four, seven years?) I had a very clear vision of a young woman from pre-Christian Britain. She was in the southwest of the island, now Dorset, Somerset, Devon or Cornwall, and was looking out to sea from a high bluff overlooking a beach. I don't know a whole lot more than that, except that she had a great deal of feminine wisdom and in my mind, I started to call her "Beryl". If there was such a name two or more thousands of years ago, I have no idea, but it has stuck with me, along with all the usual questions: is this a past life figure? An actual ancestress? Or a complete figment of my imagination? Am I channelling her? Or am I just trying to find a slightly more unusual name for myself than "Liz"?

I am curious as to whether, in her time, she was respected for her wisdom. I am curious as to whether her voice was heard more than many women's voices today. I am curious as to what her day-to-day life might have been like, and how long she might have lived. I am curious as to whether her voice is speaking and singing to me today -- I suspect so, as part of the chorus of wise women throughout history, in every part of the world and in every heritage. When it becomes too overwhelming (or too audacious) to think that I might be channeling the Goddess, it's comforting to have Beryl as my intermediary, my foremother. But I see this larger choir of voices as singing the harmony of the future as well, the music of love, beauty, and respect for life on the earth and in every galaxy. I don't see these singers as stuck in a linear chronological timeline, in other words. (Perhaps not even in the linear musical staves we sing from today!)

So I wanted to bring Beryl to your attention, in case I refer to "her" in upcoming essays. Who is your spiritual foremother? Can you picture her? Where is she? 

Kin

First of all, today feels like the first day of spring. It was the first morning with a real live beautiful musical "dawn chorus". Yesterday, I saw my first robin. It rained all of eclipse day, and we had had 18 inches of snow a week ago, so the ground is finally moist enough to start sprouting green grass and the beginnings of flowers. And though chickadees are here all winter, two days ago I saw a "boreal" chickadee with distinctive brown coloring. Even here, those birds are rare. Last but by no means least, shipping season has started, so the bridge and ship horns have started sounding.

Along with all these firsts seem to be coming regular inner firsts, as I have mentioned already. The issue of "home" is rising to the surface again, along with the realization that, more than ever, this is not about finding a permanent roof over my head, a structure I never have to leave. I've never really had one, so it is hard to imagine having one now, as we head into such unsettled times, although I would love a home permanent enough to better support my effectiveness at functioning. No, the longing that has emerged over recent weeks is almost completely about finding my people, my clan, my tribe, my kin. To be at home with people who are like me. And this is not about race, or gender, or economic level, or even education or roots. It also isn't about finding people who match my individual skills (writers, musicians, artists, mystics, feminists...), or who are generally loving and beautiful. I'm blessed with friends in many of these areas -- truly, I may only still be alive because of them.

But suddenly, pressed to define what I am looking for, it is other beings who are laying the groundwork for the world that will exist, say, a century from now, after the current transitional time. Other people who see where we are headed in terms of love, Goddess values, and harmony, and whose lives are "about" that emerging paradigm, not focused on fixing or supporting or tweaking the current one.

I remember, almost 35 years ago, sitting on the floor of my first apartment in Duluth, staring out at nearly the same view I see today, grappling with God. I just didn't understand why I had been given strong gifts in several different areas. If I had just been an artist, or a musician, or a writer, or a spiritual seeker, I thought I might have had some chance of success in the world. But there didn't seem to be any way to fully actualize all of these areas of endeavor, especially as a woman. It seemed hopeless. And of course I would go on to bounce around from one passion to the other, and from one semi-menial job to another, because all of it was too overwhelming and too unsuitable for the standard work world.

How is today's view (outward to Lake Superior, and within) different? I have finally embraced all my gifts. I understand that they were meant to be part of this life experience, and I see them as completely intertwined. They are my "superpowers", and my path through the present and the near future. They are the skills I will need -- at a bare minimum -- if I survive into the new paradigm. I'd like to meet and live with my family, the people who have lived their variations on this kind of preparatory lifetime, and who are themselves looking for kindred spirits to walk with into the new age.

Confirmation

Back on April 4, 2018, I wrote a good piece about my confirmation in the Episcopal Church.  I was thinking about that event again this week, and planned to write about it thinking that this was the 60th anniversary -- only it's not, it's the 59th! The little white 1928 Book of Common Prayer given to me on the day has (in my still-childish handwriting) my name and date, 1965. A lifetime ago. I was barely nine years old, much younger I suspect than anyone would be confirmed today, or allowed to re-affirm their baptismal vows. The fact that in my confession several days before, I acknowledged having "committed adultery" proves I really didn't understand most of the words or concepts!

So I won't revisit what I talked about last time. But out of curiosity, I did go back to that prayer book's services of baptism and confirmation, and the Articles of Religion, and almost swooned. To say that I have gone down a whole different spiritual path is a colossal understatement. And it is fascinating that even in the 1980 prayer book still in use, the first three baptismal/confirmation vows have to do with "renunciation" -- of Satan, evil powers, and sinful desires. Why talk about these things first? From a post-duality standpoint, it makes no sense to bring them up at all, much less most prominently. And the subsequent vow to "follow and obey" Jesus feels particularly antiquated. Maybe it is because I have so rarely had anyone follow my lead in anything, that I cannot imagine asking/requiring anyone to literally obey me. And I can't imagine turning around and making such a vow to any human or divine figure (male or female). I keep trying to intuit what the Goddess might say in certain situations, and of course I don't know for sure, but my impression is that She doesn't ask for "obedience"...She isn't outside us, requiring this or that externally. She would just love to have more of us open our hearts to the other half of the spiritual story, within (or potentially within) all of us.

So I guess the threshold I wrote about the other day is, in its own way, a "confirmation" -- that I have finally reached the point where I could not retake any of those standard vows. In a completely different context, a friend of mine recently made reference to feeling "untethered", and I gave a wry chuckle and said that I have felt that way all my life! But until the last few months, there was still the lightest, tiniest thread still tying me loosely to the church. It appears to have snapped. 

A New Threshold

I seem to write regularly about crossing thresholds, walking through portals, liminal spaces, etc. I guess my life is more dotted with these experiences than most people's, or at least more consciously/intentionally dotted with them. It's part of the mystic path, perhaps, the shamanic reality, always entering new states of consciousness. But this  threshold of "68", particularly the last month or so, has been really, really, intense. The "place" I am in today feels literally like a new landscape from where I was even at the beginning of the year. 

Here's what I think has happened. After circling around near this major portal for years, I finally walked through it -- the portal into a completely Goddess-centered reality. I've made a commitment to Her, and to representing Her values (and higher, conflict-free values) as I understand them, more consciously and deliberately than ever before. And by taking that step into the new landscape, it feels like a door has closed behind me, almost literally. I know in my heart that for the rest of this lifetime at least, I will not be able to reference/reverence most of the constructs in place, even in a sometimes pathetic effort to try to keep going. It never worked well for me, it was never "who I was", and frankly, it isn't what the Goddess needs from me now, at this important transitional moment.

Take Easter. I was on the city bus on Saturday, Easter Eve, and two people were talking with great enthusiasm about the church services they were going to attend on Sunday. It seemed to me that their happiness went way beyond anticipating singing some wonderful, celebratory hymns. I mean, just from their voices, I could tell that the risen Christ symbolized something very important to them personally, the victory of life over death. I realized that never in my whole life has there been joy for me in the Easter celebration -- only joy in the singing of beautiful music. 

In this current moment, around the edges (and I didn't attend services anywhere), all I could hear was duality -- life vs. death, good vs. evil, battles done and battles won. All I could see was the violence of a holy man being nailed to a cross, and somehow that action being reverenced throughout history by being re-lived and re-lived over and over again. And as much as I know that the "victory" is the resurrection (not the crucifixion), even that doesn't feel like winning to me. I don't want "victory" in my life anymore anyway, as it is a duality concept. The Jesus I would like to have known is the real person, the real mystic, walking this earth path as we do, learning, stumbling, and growing. 

I don't think that even if I had had the opportunity this year, I would have been able to tolerate services at my favorite English cathedral. While it is too early to tell whether the door has completely closed on that relationship, so central to my life thus far, I feel so different this morning that nothing would surprise me. 

It's actually quite terrifying. Now, to imagine a door locking behind me is, in itself, too duality-based...I don't think the new territory is that black and white. This spiritual path is one of freedom and harmony, and there may be moments when I'll circle back into old "landscapes" or ways of being if I need to pick up an old thread. But do I feel like I am essentially in a different place, that I have crossed over a major threshold? Yes.

Forgiveness

Wow. This continues to be an amazing time, inwardly and outwardly. 

Forgiveness...I have used this word relatively few times in this blog, and in my life. Having been brought up in the Christian tradition, where forgiveness plays such a huge role, perhaps this may seem surprising. But here's the thing. When you are brought up by at least one parent who is utterly incapable of asking for forgiveness, you cannot help but question the process. There were five or ten enormous things that a more loving father would have apologized to me for by the end of his life, but it simply was not in his nature. Instead, early on I became the family apologist, apologizing at every turn, for who I was and for just about everything I did. Spending time in England made it worse, because I added their casual "sorries" to every other sentence. In the middle of my life, friends begged me to stop being so apologetic, and slowly but surely I've released the need to ask forgiveness at every turn. Yet when I see or hear of people forgiving other people for the completely unthinkable, I just know I am not there yet. If someone is empathetic enough to come to me and ask forgiveness, I think in most cases I would gladly forgive, but in other situations, I'm still not there yet. I need to marshal my limited energies in other ways.

However, this morning I did something major in my handwritten journal; I suspect this is huge. I didn't forgive a person, I forgave a place: upstate New York/the northeastern U.S. The place of my birth and upbringing, and just about all my family's roots back to the 1600s-1800s. The place I have actually spent the majority of my life. I don't think I was ever completely at home there. Even as a small child, I remember looking out the window of our family station wagon at Schenectady and the surrounding landscape, feeling utterly adrift.  By then, England resonated more as "home". I've left, returned, left again, returned, left again. Thinking about that part of the world has only ever depressed me, and left me feeling tortured and defensive. When I have lived there as an adult, it was largely in reference to my family, trying to do things differently than they did. I was in the northeast when my dad died, and I guess it is no surprise that I left almost immediately to come back out here to Minnesota. I didn't think I could bear the constant reminders of him. I didn't want to live in the part of the world I associated with his choices, his blankness.

So why forgiveness, and why this morning? I don't know for sure. But several things hit me. It isn't the fault of the northeastern U.S. that my father was who he was. And it isn't its fault that it isn't England, or that I never found a way to permanently live over there. Perhaps most importantly, in the bigger picture, as an emerging soul in 1955-56, I chose to live in that part of the world, as a part of that specific family with its myriad and paradoxical issues. In its own way, it was -- as places go -- incredibly nurturing. And it is an area whose feminist and spiritual histories are rich -- I may be more part of that stream than I realize.

So, I ask the forgiveness of my hometown and my home region. I truly am sorry that I have so often scrambled to leave you, and felt ashamed of you. You -- especially the landscape underfoot in the Hudson and Mohawk and Champlain valleys -- were not the issue. I just wasn't ready yet to understand that. Please, please forgive me.

I'm not making any assumptions about how this relates to any future plans. But at the right moments and in the right situations, I think "they" are right. Forgiveness is necessary and liberating.

Goddess Words 27: Shaping

One of the more surprising words in my old handwritten list of Goddess words is "Shaping". Surprising, in the sense that it's not a word I have said very often, or think about. 

These days, when I think about shaping, I think of potters at a wheel, shaping the wet clay by hand. Although I never took up this kind of artistic expression, it seems like the best metaphor for a creator/creatrix. Particularly for the Goddess. That she has shaped everything in the natural world (including us) literally by hand, lovingly, deliberately. We are the shape we are, on purpose. 

And I think She is definitely re-shaping all life at this time. Our human mode of creation has been less thoughtful, deliberate, and loving, and things are out of whack. Landscapes we thought we knew will be re-shaped in coming years, things we thought we could count on will take on new shapes, as a divine hand presses in to heal and, in some cases, start certain processes all over from scratch.

More on this another day. After months of drought, we are having heavy snow and ice, and expect it for another day or two. From the sound of it, optimistic neighbors had taken off their snow tires, but overall, with school closed and the side streets not yet plowed, it is silent outside. I'll have to get out soon to help shovel! That is spring in the northland, a season when, as always, the Goddess does what she needs to do.

Speaking of that, I spoke last time of a big step, and this is what it is. I'm having some cards made up, where I clearly state that I am a Goddess-centered mystic and visionary. A few years ago, I had some commercial ones made that said "mystic", but it was right before COVID, and I never had any reason to use them. Now, I am shaping and defining myself much more clearly. I still don't know whether I'll use ten of them or a hundred in upcoming months, but in a way, it doesn't matter. What matters is finally allowing my true shape to find expression.

If it is blizzarding where you are, stay safe!

A Big Step

Today, I am taking a rather big step on the Liz path. (You can tell how essentially English I am, using the word "rather" in this context! But it is, by American standards, a smallish step -- I will tell you more about it in my next post, I promise.)

Essentially, I am more clearly identifying myself with the Goddess and the values I am doing my best to articulate in these essays. I finally see that (no longer 'breaking into the world of English church music') as my primary mission for whatever remains of this lifetime. If, Goddess willing, I should finally be drawn to "my forever home" (on whatever side of the Atlantic), this must be the primary energetic quality -- that I am loved and accepted because of these values. I recently pulled an oracle card that showed a figure standing between two flaming staffs, about to step over the threshold onto a new path. And that's what it feels like. In a way, I think I've been nearing this portal then circling away again over and over the last few years, but this may be the first really practical step over the line. 

No, I am not getting a tattoo. Everyone seems to have one these days, but those visible marks haven't called to me -- yet. 

If you are reading this, send me courage. And may you have all the courage you need today as well.

Happy first day of spring, from a Northern Minnesota seemingly heading into winter in earnest. 

Hearts and Brains

So yesterday, I started out the day with one of those spiritual-person's vows -- that I would compassionately treat everyone I met, or every situation I found myself in. I then proceeded to flunk this exam within the hour! I was working on a crossword puzzle, waiting for the library to open. A tall older white man (yes, I think older than me!) tried to engage me in conversation. There was something amiss, whether it was addiction issues or what, I don't know, but my guard immediately went up, and went up further as he leaned into me to try to read what I was writing. His head must have been four or five inches from mine. My inner New Yorker (in public, we always gave each other a great deal of space) and my inner self-protective female both overruled my good intentions. I'm hard on men, I know I am. Is this an impediment to other women who try to operate spiritually and lovingly? If this part of us has been abused at some point, there is still so much hurt to rise above.

Something else has been on my mind. The other day, I made reference again to my high IQ. I always hesitate to talk about it, I really do. But it may be one of the primary things that makes me "me", and I have been grieving how inadequately I ended up using my intelligence much of this lifetime. The other day, a Jeopardy contestant referred to a wonderful teacher who had sat down (when he was young) and talked with him about what life would be like for him, with his exceptional intelligence. I grieved even more. Why didn't anyone do that with me? I dare say that in the early 1960's, it was still assumed that as a girl, I really would have no reason to use my brain. And while a few men over the years have come straight out and critiqued my references to my degrees, for instance, for the most part, I've begun to see how it was more often a passive case of being teased, ignored, or not hired. And of course, I increasingly see how "patriarchal" all the jobs or careers would have been, had I made those choices. I think, too, of bright young girls worldwide. In worst case scenarios, they are being silenced, and in better scenarios, they are being educated in systems more conducive to men. Hmm...I think I recently asked this, but I'll do it again: Goddess, moving forward, how do I use this brain of mine for your benefit? 

For the moment, I continue to write!

Lastly, it's a windy, blustery day at the head of the lake. Chilly, closer to normal mid-March. I guess one use of this brain will be not to forget how thoroughly abnormal the rest of the winter was. We are not in "normal" times. How to face this fact square on, but also lovingly and looking for beauty -- this will take hearts and brains. 

Climate

It is rare that I write two posts in two days, but I feel called to right now.

Evidently, there is still a "thing" out there that Northern Minnesota/Duluth is (or will be) relatively climate change-proof. All along, I've thought that this was a rather strange notion. This is one world, and the process of re-balancing and purifying what has gone amiss will happen all over the world, not just in certain places. I suppose what appealed to some people was the idea that historically, this part of the world has relatively cool summers. Perhaps it was hoped that winters would also become a little milder, making the area more livable.

Now, you'll have to find actual statistics elsewhere, but this winter's freakishness goes well beyond a little upward temperature nudging. Except for the ten days or so of traditional "frigid Duluth winter" back in January (which I wrote about), the period since November 1 has been exceptionally dry. We have had less than 20 inches of snow in total, of which there is basically nothing left on the ground. And we have had no rain. The grass is brown (we continue to get nights under freezing), crisp, and looks just "wrong", and is already a fire risk, in and out of the city. For the last six or seven weeks, daytime temperatures have often been 10, 20, even 30 degrees F above normal. When in a usual winter, the high for the day might have been 0 degrees, it has been 20 or 30. On and off over the last few weeks, when the normal might have been 20 degrees, it has been 40 or 50. This is not a slight rise in temperatures, this is exceptional. 

Since the lake never froze, the water is nowhere near as cold as it might normally be, which means that the "cooler by the lake" effect will be diminished or nonexistent. With no significant precipitation falling, I assume Lake Superior water level will also be lower than usual, which has a host of domino effects.

I guess that's all I will say right now. We are a culture that seeks salvation; if any of us seek such relief by moving, at least we need to remember that we may be trading one climate extreme for another. 

Goddess Words 26: Bliss

I have chosen "Bliss" for today, even though I am not in that place. But it is an important feeling, and the word was near the top of my handwritten list.

So...a state of complete happiness and joy. Feeling like you are in "heaven", infused with light and love.

As with some of the other words already presented here, this is not an emotion that is likely to result from achieving something outside yourself. It is hard for me to imagine someone feeling a genuine state of bliss upon acquiring a new job, a fancy car, a new boyfriend, or the right living room set. I mean, our advertising and entertainment industries wouldn't agree with me (!) but it really is a spiritual state, not materially outcome-dependent. I feel bliss rather infrequently, and (as has happened recently) when I do touch that spiritual "pot of gold", I can be thrown back into a black hole from which I struggle to emerge. It is easy to understand why many people don't choose the mystic path!

But when I do feel bliss, it is something like this: a state of connectedness with all life everywhere (not just on Planet Earth). A state of calm. Paradoxically, a state of unlimited energy. A state of knowing what deep love for all life is, even if I'm aware that I'm not there yet. Synchronicity. The perfection of whatever is in front of me. Total power (not over others, just radiating love power), health, peace, harmony, understanding, self-acceptance, and acceptance of the state of the world. I don't seem to reach this place in meditation, per se, though others can. Being an Aquarian Goddess-centered left-brain "genius", it seems to happen when all sides of my complex being come into balance. It sort of clicks into place. And I am thankful that my higher self seems to recognize and celebrate the perfect moments when blocks to happiness fall away. Kind of a nudge, "This is bliss, Liz!"

In this transitional time, my hunch is that recognizing our experiences of true bliss (and yes, even trying to hold onto them a few extra minutes!) will be very important. This isn't something to put off until you experience "wedded bliss" or "die and go to heaven", and it isn't something to put off until the world is in a better state. Bliss (people's real experience of it, not just the word!) is one of the most important building blocks of the new paradigm, and the time to start living as if bliss is a regular part of our lives is now. 

 

Reference/Reverence

Hi all. Another post about something that's been on my mind on and off, and that I've touched on before, but maybe I've spiraled up to a new place.

One of the disadvantages of having moved into fuller alignment with the Goddess and, it seems, into a place of more inner harmony, is that everything and anything about conflict becomes increasingly painful. Obviously, topics like war, use of weapons, hatred, and greed are easy: they are simply not of the Goddess, and it's time to move on. But it's the subtler conflicts that I'm becoming more and more aware of and sensitive to.

High on that list is organizations/people/educational syllabi/events that are "anti" this, or "against" that. Forced to choose sides, of course (as you might expect) I am anti-war/gun violence/bias/global warming/cancer, etc. But it becomes problematical when people name their associations or movements accordingly. I think Abraham Hicks is right. This is a yes-based universe, and if "war" figures in your title, you are potentially drawing to you (and the world) more war, particularly the more passionately anti-war you are. Prominently "referencing" the thing you don't want comes perilously close to "reverencing" it. We've all done it (I won't even go into all the ways I still do this in my personal life!) We humans have been taught to fight and eradicate the things we don't like, and it has felt more powerful to take a stand against things than for things.

But we have entered a new age. If conflict worked in the past, I simply don't think it will work as well moving forward. The most powerful thing of all will be simply aligning -- inwardly and outwardly -- with the qualities we most want for the world; love, beauty, community, a healthy environment, and good physical, personal health. Eventually, more and more people will be sensitive to this idea, and gravitate toward naming organizations and movements "for" positive values. It won't be as sexy, and it may not initially draw in as many people, but it will be a start. Basically, the litmus test may be, do I want the name of "what I do not want" staring me in the face every morning on my letterhead or website?

The Moon

This has continued to be a challenging time, as I try to further clarify my post-68 goals (boy, that sounds a little too left brain!) while staying true to (and increasing) my dedication to the values of the divine feminine. There is a lot I could talk about, but since the lander succeeded in reaching the moon's surface about ten days ago, I've had something on my mind.

With respect to generations of scientists, in this country and overseas, I have a question. Has anyone in this milieu asked this question: Does the Moon herself wish to be studied/landed on/explored/colonized/or used as the base for further space exploration? Does she wish to have human trash left on her, or to be dug into, or put under a microscope? Does she share any of "our" goals? Or can she do her job a whole lot better without most of our intervention? And what will happen here on earth if we fiddle around too much with the moon?

It just kind of horrifies me that we've never adequately treated Earth with respect, and without fully addressing how that came about and what we are facing here now, we seem to think that the solution is to move out into space and potentially make the same mistakes.

I don't see much news about what is happening with this current project, except that the lander tipped over. That certainly is interesting...at the moment, I don't read much more into it than that perhaps we are being given more time in which to reconsider our vision and goals. Protection/preservation of earth and the moon could be at the top of our list, if we made that choice. 

Life's Final Exam

There is no getting around it. 2024 has so far been like a "Life Final Exam", or PhD dissertation. It's kind of like, "You are going to pull all the strings of your life together this year, whether you like it or not." I'm not sure whether the same thing is happening this year to 30- or 50-year olds, but at 68 it packs a real punch. Every possible fear, pain, lost thread, and regret is coming under the microscope, because you know you have a lot less time left to set things right. I'm sorry, because I know this is intense for my readers, but I plow ahead nonetheless.

The big issue of the day is being really, really truthful about one aspect of my essential nature. Lordy, I've written 800-plus posts, and even touched on this topic, but now it is under the microscope big time: whether I have always liked it or not, the young woman I started out to be was "Trans-Atlantic" (New York-London) and ultra-intelligent. (Not to denigrate Smith or the University of London, but I now understand that I could have chosen Harvard, Yale, Oxford or Cambridge, but at the time I wasn't self-confident enough.) I was cultured and articulate, and I hope I still am! And although my particular family lacked inherited money and only $725.00 made its way down the ages to me, the milieu, ambience, and expectations I grew up with involved blue blood, private schools, and all the old paradigm tastes, institutions and potential leadership that come with them.

By about 1983, my connection to that world was rapidly fraying. I now understand that this wasn't just because of my parents' descent into total poverty, or knowing I couldn't take part in the world of English church music. I now get that it was all a patriarchal construct which, as a woman alone with an emerging Goddess consciousness, I had no desire or skills to navigate. And by 1990, when I left New York City and decided to "see America", it was less a positive goal than it was a cranky, "Gosh darn it, I'll never again sing choral evensong or want to live in the UK without doing that, so I'd better see if I can find somewhere in the U.S. where I can become a normal American." A long, circuitous route brought me to the shores of Lake Superior, and I've been drawn back here a few times.

Still, am I really at home here? No. I'm sorry to say it, but that is the truth, especially now. All you have to do is hear my deep speaking voice, with its Upper East Side-cum-upstate New York-cum-Canada-cum-England inflections and expressions. It is many things, but it is not Minnesotan! (My sense of dislocation is on so many levels, it can be completely breathtaking.)

And yet (as we are on the cusp of earth-changing environmental, social and spiritual changes), I could hardly just chuck it all and marry a rich old NY or London aristocrat and be done with it. I'm not their kind of person either. So as of today, this isn't about immediately changing my outside reality. It's about inwardly completely embracing and forgiving that world -- and my evolution away from it.

I have made one decision. I hope that at some point soon, someone will invite me to speak in person about my journey. Whether it is to five people or fifty or 500, I don't care and I literally can't wait! Will I wear a "pagan" hooded robe? No. Brightly colored flowing goddess dress with lots of necklaces and rings? No. Outdoorsy hiking gear? No. My usual schlumpy hand-me-downs and inexpensive big box clothes? No. I'll go to Talbots or Ann Taylor or wherever still reflects that classy look, and find the right (probably blue or teal) outfit for me. And pearls. Because of all the parts of me I've participated in killing off, this may be the one that needs the most significant visible resurrection, somehow without embracing the traditional "power over" ethos. My usual impossible balancing act, right?!

Temptation, when you are a 68-year-old woman mystic

Part of what I feel my calling is, in this blog, is to express my particular variation on the mystic path. Whether or not people are reading, and whether or not I'm expressing things well or doing things well, I'm trying to stay true to that goal.

However, this last week has been so intensive, inwardly, that I suspect there is no way I can quite catch up! Last Tuesday, I wrote as powerfully and as clearly as I could about the spiritual paradigm that we are entering. By Thursday and Friday, not too surprisingly, I had a pretty significant crash. And it led to several important realizations; today I'll talk only about one.

Even in the midst of hitting the wall, I had sort of an amusing observation. I guess it is part of the standard lore about male spiritual figures that at certain moments in their journeys, "the Devil" comes to them, tempting them away from their high calling, into "sin" -- riches, sex and women, gluttony, worldly power or violence, etc. 

I can't and won't speak for other women mystics, but I know that for me, temptation has barely ever taken that form. Sure, I've wished for a little normalcy, but excess has never really even gotten my attention. What form has temptation taken? The temptation to feel even worse about myself than ever. The temptation to hate myself. The temptation to give up completely. To some extent I hear the voices of family and friends who have said my life is a disaster, and to some extent, I just feel the pushback energy of a paradigm that I couldn't navigate. I mean, I don't believe, per se, in demons and devils. Just the blockage power of ways of being that are wrong for me.

And turning 68 seemed to turn up the message to the nth degree: "You were never very attractive, and now you are old and your hair is getting grayer by the day. Why don't you give up?" "You never gave the system anything it wanted, and it didn't want you. Why don't you give up?" "At this late date, you'll never earn any more money, or afford a nicer 'forever home' than high-rise, low income senior housing out on the periphery. Why don't you just give up?" "No one has ever wanted to listen to you sing, speak or write. Why don't you just give up?" Friday, I had to hang on for dear life. I don't think I would ever be tempted to take my own life, but giving up and no longer caring what happens to me or the world -- that is a temptation much of the time, especially when I have made spiritual leaps forward. I talk about this in case any of you are going through this too.

By Saturday, I had the "aha" of all "ahas". In this lifetime, I was more aligned with the Goddess than I realized, and could only "accomplish" the kinds of things that exist in Her paradigm. To speak in irritating double negatives, I didn't achieve the things that don't exist in Her world -- "traditional" marriage and children, home or property ownership, career, money, security, and power over other people. And so perhaps to Her, I am a success. It is only looking through the lens of our dying paradigm that I look pathetic and expendable. 

Whoa.

 

In the Future?

I wrote something down in my handwritten journal the other day which I feel I need to share. In the past, I would have tried to convince myself not to do so, that it is too "out there" (which it is!). But this re-birthday month, in the world in which we find ourselves, is not a time for putting things off.

I've often thought that I have had at least one lifetime in the future, and one of my wisest friends thinks so too. So as much as possible, I think these following ideas are mine, based on experience (or at least, on my intuition about how conditions in our world will change), but I have no doubt that others have written or spoken similar ideas. I suspect they aren't original in that sense. And it isn't a thorough list. Articulating these points is helping me understand even better why our world as-it-is was so difficult for me to navigate! There were other realities at my core. Anyway, I'll put them out there in the exact words from my journal, to take or leave. In the paradigm we are entering/the Age of Aquarius/the return of the Goddess/a higher, more harmonic age...

We could "astral"/energetic travel (not need cars, planes, etc.)

We could create or co-create with the Divine at-will most items, and in a form that would recycle or compost

We would be more telepathic -- for most, no telephone, email, etc. would be necessary

We would need no laws, lawyers, as there would be little-to-no conflict

We would only need doctors to set broken bones, etc. No need for most other medicine and medications, because people self-align

We would live more communally and not need untold numbers of new houses every year

We would need less food/fuel

We would need no money, because people "worked" in the best field for their gifts and love what they do

We would need no armies, police, laws, insurance, or "anti-" anything fear-filled

We would not "own" property, so there would be few such disputes

That's as far as I went...I seem to have focused on the areas of human endeavor that I found most painful, but I have already thought of new things for the list, which I'll have to save for another day. I share what I have, not by way of saying everything in our world is "wrong" so much as to say, we are rapidly outgrowing so much and I believe these are the kinds of conditions we will find in the paradigm we are entering. I guess the best way to describe this last third of my life, is that I'll spend a whole lot less time and effort trying to adapt/respond to the constructs in place, and a whole lot more time trying to live these new ways, which I see coming in the near future.

(PS: This entire post has some wonky verb tense irregularities and inconsistencies, but I've left them as is to reflect the fact that things are changing so quickly!)

More Energy

Today's is going to be short.

I guess it stands to reason that after a little over two weeks of deliberately trying to align to my values, to what I find beautiful, to what I like and enjoy, and trying to stay focused, I feel more energy than usual. Even though we have reverted to colder winter air, it's like spring. I feel more alive.

Blessings to all of us this weekend. May you, too, find more energy.

Pilgrimage

This is one of those days when I am not going to write about what I thought I would be writing about. You spend a whole weekend thinking and mentally wording things, then suddenly on a Monday morning, it isn't on the front burner any more. Hmmm...

First of all, I want to apologize to my small handful of readers. The other day, I came upon a scrap of paper from probably at least five years ago, where I wrote something to the effect of, "from this point forward, I intend to model Goddess values to the world" -- i.e.: basically what I have been saying on and off here for the last few years. I mean, I'm probably boring you all to tears. I need to remember that this is all still such uncharted territory. It isn't completely surprising that I haven't "arrived" yet...if my intention had been to start a bed and breakfast, or go back to art school, these goals would have been rather easier to complete in the world as it is. Still...I hope I have at least circled up a bit higher on the spiral...those of you who continue reading, thank you!

Anyway, here's what's going on. I feel like I have made some kind of energetic leap in recent weeks, and that this impression of being at the portal of something new has as much to do with "energy" as with actively seeking out outward horizons or people or places (although it may end up being the same thing). I sorted through some old papers on Saturday, which left me utterly and completely drained. It wasn't just about how they reminded me of things that were hard or depressing (like going through bankruptcy, for instance), although that must have been part of it. I think it had more to do with recognizing that the "energy" of most of my life to date has been serious, challenging, disappointing, and bittersweet -- dotted with moments with intensive beauty and musical/artistic harmony. But the norm has been an expectation of struggle, which I finally understand given that my values are such a contrast to what I see around me. Something has shifted in recent days. Despite the woeful state of the world, the sadness of so many people I encounter on the street and on the bus, despite the excesses in the aisles of supermarkets and in ads on TV -- there is a little kernel within me of genuine inner peace and happiness, and I'm less and less willing to dim that tiny light so as not to upset others.

Someone said the word "pilgrimage" to me the other day, and I lit up like a candle. Even a year ago, I would have wanted to take a pilgrimage around the cathedrals and other spiritual sites in southern England. Today, February 12, 2024, I don't have the energy to move around much further than downtown Duluth, but the concept means something completely different this morning: to send out as much light as I possibly can, and see who (or what, or where) responds. To choose my pilgrimage sites based on the beauty, love and joy that echo back to me now, not to use the world's history (or my own) as a guide. Terrifying, but energizing.

Goddess Words 25: Boundless

I have to confess to just having added this word ("boundless") to my old list, which is rather absurd given that there are still at least 100 words that I haven't mused upon yet in this blog. So why add "boundless", and why today? 

A mere six days into this month, and I already feel happier, more spacious, and more at one with myself and the Creatrix energy of the universe than I did a week ago. I worded it in my handwritten journal as having come home to my true nature. Of course, what this also does is make me aware of the ways in which my unlimited potential has been cut back at every turn, by myself and the world around me. It's like, my abilities could fill the spiral Guggenheim museum all the way to the top, but I've only hung, say, twenty paintings on the bottom floor. All of a sudden, while I'm not in a panic exactly, I'm conscious that this realization is coming very late in the day. 

So I searched my original list to find something that described Her enormity, endlessness, eternality, all those "e's", and interestingly enough, I never included one. I suspect that back when I penned it, I was more interested in my personal manifestation of Goddess qualities, or that of other women. I wasn't thinking Universe-wide, which now seems crucial. In the end, the love powers that created (and continue to grow) life-as-far-as-it-reaches aren't limited by gender, but the divine feminine is all I can relate to at the moment, and "She is boundless".

What does that mean? Simply, She has no boundaries. In Her construct, there are no lines in the landscape separating people or places. She has unlimited creative power and agency. No one can stop her (for long) from flowing out love, change, and new growth. She is not bound, not enslaved, not pushed down -- by humans or by any other influences out there in the galaxy. Her true nature is love, beauty, intelligence, and creativity on a grand scale. She is not stoppable. She is powerful beyond anything that we can imagine, and she wants us to share in that power, not fight it or each other. 

There are nearly 4 billion women on this planet. It horrifies me to realize that if I, with all my early advantages and essential privileges, have only a few "paintings" in my enormous gallery, what about all the other women in the world? Many may have struggled to survive long enough to hang a single oeuvre, if that. Many women live in countries where even dreaming about self-actualization is impossible. In some places, there may not even be a word for the concept.

If I am attempting to far more fully exemplify the Goddess by the end of this month, what will it mean on a personal level? What would it mean for me to be "boundless" and eternal? As usual, I have to focus on my inner thoughts and beliefs, how I have remained chained and bound "in there" leading to limitations out here. For this short time at least, I need to try to be as "post-limitation" as I am "post-everything-else"! Age, relative lack of funds, and fear may be trying to bind me, but I can choose to be boundless. When any of us do this, it isn't a selfish act. I do believe we help all the women of the world.

Maple Sugaring Weather

Having grown up in the northeastern U.S., I've always been conscious of the string of days in the spring when the high temperatures are in the 30's (Fahrenheit) and the nightly temperatures are in the 20's. Perfect weather for maple sap to run at sugar bushes  Traditionally, this was during some stretch of time between late February and mid-April, and a quick search tells me that here in the upper midwest, it was typically mid-March to later in April. 

So for Duluth to have a brutal cold snap several weeks ago followed by January sugaring weather is bizarre. Just bizarre. Don't get me wrong, as an older person perambulating around these steep hills, I am grateful for dry sidewalks. My Sunday morning walk to the supermarket was almost perfect, cold but no wind, and not one snowbank or patch of ice in sight. I felt almost back to my New York City prime, fast walking. And there will be almost another week of it! The freedom of it is exhilarating.

However...there is (of course) something so wrong with this picture.

I've promised myself that every time I write this month of February 2024, I will say something either that I haven't said before, or perhaps have said so obliquely or tactfully that it wasn't clear. Today it is this. I just do not believe that there is any overlap between saving the planet/respect for Mother Earth, and our capitalist system (and other hybrids around the world that I cannot speak for). The whole thrust of it has been about using and abusing nature for human goals, with virtually no consideration for what the earth needs (or needed) for longterm sustainability. I say this today because I know all of us are grasping at little straws of hope, such as when companies talk about creating technologies and processes that will help us at this juncture. Once we get to the supermarket, on foot, by bus, or in a car, we train ourselves not to look at all the plastic wrappings, the absurdly low prices for things that are massively overproduced, the unhealthiness (to us and to the planet) of our favorite foods. I mean, I do it too. I do. It's that or break down in the snack aisle and get sent off in an ambulance, right?

I guess everyone has to find their own way of coping. Mine is to know that the paradigm we are entering is that of Only Love, of the Goddess, and of Earth's power to heal itself (and all life) in love. I'm trying to fully embrace this truth while gently releasing the old paradigm. Not fighting it (most days), not hating it (most days) and not living in fear (most days). When I unwrap my plastic-laden item at home and throw the container or film into whichever is appropriate, recycling or trash, I ask the Goddess's forgiveness. (Even at natural food stores, we have little choice -- right now. Little maple sugar candies are usually, of course, wrapped in plastic.)

I want Her to know that I know she's more powerful than plastic.

This Month

February 2024.

If you read the last post, you know that this is a defining moment -- for me, anyway. I think it is for the world as well.

I have promised myself that this will be an extraordinary month, a month of growing as far into my Goddess and "post-duality" personas as I possibly can, as quickly as possible. A month of only doing those things that I would do if I were the Goddess. A month of taking no action out of fear. A month of embracing the notion of leadership, if and when I am called to lead. A month of catching my moments of negativity as quickly as possible so that I don't pass them on to others. A month of doing things I genuinely love. A month of writing more powerfully. A month of imagining the future warmheartedly. A month of imagining the beauty and miracles in store for those of us who can hold onto the thread of love and keep expressing it in the world, no matter how humbly.

If you had asked me even a month ago, "What is your 'intersection'?", I would have said without skipping a beat, "England/English church music and the Goddess". It barely made sense, but I was getting good at owning it. All of a sudden, I've moved into a new place. My intersection is the Goddess and "post-duality"/harmony. Someone asked me yesterday to define the latter, and this is what I said: It's the moment when you realize that you see all the contrasts in the world -- right and wrong, good and evil, dark and light, healthy and sick, rich and poor, us and them -- but the word "versus" just does not compute. Your role (if it ever was) is no longer to fight your opposite. To see the contrasts? Yes. To understand what is going on? Yes. To try to hear the music of these different instruments, yes. But to fight, to wipe contrast off the face of the earth, no. 

I think what is going on is this -- it's not that I have deep-sixed England, or love that genre of church music any less. Quite the contrary. Interestingly enough, over the last week, I received some unexpected bits of recognition for my role in that world, and it was so gratifying. 

But going forward, my twin goals will be to try to express ever more clearly what I think the Goddess is trying to tell us, and to express what it means to be free of conflict and the constant need to prevail against an enemy. Only recently did I realize that this was such a big part of my makeup...it isn't about not liking to fight, or avoiding unpleasantness. It's about realizing that there is nothing to fight. It's about realizing that fighting always makes things worse, not better. 

Hard stuff. Challenging stuff. Rebirth stuff. I feel like I am constantly on the verge of tears, it's all so big. But I have said "yes" to the process. I want to move forward, and become the woman I was meant to be. This month.

A Stark Portal

On my dresser, I have an image of Stonehenge.  The focus of the picture is one of the archways...two vertical stones topped by a lintel. And this image has become my meditation focus in recent days. Well, to be truthful, I don't meditate for long, but I guess it is more accurate to say I check in with this portal every morning. I've used the word portal a number of times in this blog, and the one I am standing in right now seems particularly important, perhaps the crucial one in this lifetime. 

Behind me is the "landscape" of war, fear, conflict, division, competition, flashy superficiality, duality...you name it. Our world as it currently is. It is a landscape I've been spectacularly inept at navigating. This winter's twin quarantines of COVID and frigid cold became an almost literal portal; in the relative safety of the archway, I've deeply felt decades of trauma, confusion, disappointment, fear. When you have time to think, it is quite overwhelming how much violence we are all immersed in every moment of every day...and even putting actual violence aside, I've become more and more aware of how we older women are pushed away and left for dead, be it in society generally, in war zones or on television (I don't know what I hate worse, the bedridden older women with incontinence problems, or the weapon-wielding younger superwomen!) On the bus the other day, the lady across from me was clearly completely homeless. She tried to catch my eye, and I am ashamed to say I looked away, not because I wanted to pretend she wasn't there but because she was me, essentially, and it was terrifying. Similar things happen on the bus all the time, but I was particularly fragile that day and, thus, particularly closed-hearted. In my own way, I, too, am holding on for dear life and it was hard to look in the mirror. I hope to see her again someday soon, because I would like to apologize or at least exchange greetings with her. Acknowledge that of the Goddess within her.

Ahead of the portal where I am standing is the contrasting landscape I keep talking about and trying to define, a landscape I am ready to experience -- one that values the divine feminine and the earth, as well as love, beauty, harmony, and peace. One where each step comes easily, almost miraculously. One where love is the only "currency" and the only "current". One where, if you are capable of love, you are at home. At almost-68, the time has come. As I step beyond the portal into this beautiful new landscape, I really cannot import any of my past disappointments, or "Plan B" thinking, or referencing of male history or power, or waffling, or uncertainty. Both feet must come with me into the new (metaphorical) landscape, or movement forward simply won't happen. I must completely, completely trust the Goddess, my own process, and my own intuition. Not (necessarily) so that I won't become the lady on the bus, but so that I will finally become the fullest possible manifestation of all my divine gifts.

What a difference...

...a day makes. On Sunday, I eked out two short, cold walks around the block. Yesterday, about thirty degrees warmer, I could walk to the bus stop and wait comfortably, with no risk of frostbite. And, true to the notion of climate chaos, the next week or so will be unusually warm, not cold. This winter to date, Duluth has had about one third its average snowfall, and one fifth last year's total. It would seem that the last eight days was more of an exception to the new norm than a return to an old one.

As is often the case, I seem to have been slow to pick up on a new term: doomers. Ie: people who are extremely pessimistic in the face of climate change, artificial intelligence, the threat of war, etc. I'm a "boomer" of course, and I guess I would be a "boomer doomer" if the only reality I could see was our male-dominated, conflict-driven one. Yes, the only way such a construct can end is, ahem, "poorly", so pessimism about it is warranted. But I believe we are seeing the emergence of a more feminine, loving energy in our midst, and in that context I have hope. 

Perhaps it could be said there is extreme narcissism even in the belief that humanity has the power to completely destroy planet Earth. Yes, we may have it in us to destroy it as a place to live for many generations to come. But cause it no longer to exist? Somehow I doubt it. And we certainly cannot destroy the entire universe. If Nature's only creative power is Love, then I suspect there will be unexpected beauty, new growth and tenacity emerging from the ashes of whatever we thoughtlessly destroy. I don't think Nature "thinks" scientifically, as we do, so probably emerging life forms and processes will be invisible unless you look through the eyes of love and harmony. The old "eyes" will stop working, and most of the old non-love-based assumptions and institutions. The primary "work" of this time is in the heart, the brain, and the senses.

And along the way, errands like going to the post office and library...staying grounded.

And on a Saturday...

The cold was to have eased by now, but it hasn't. It was crazy windy in the night, and it isn't too bad at the moment, but it must be about -2 F. I hope to do some food shopping later with a car-owning friend, for the first time in eight days. Funny how, when my pantry is running low, I don't crave fresh vegetables, fruit and brown rice. I crave pizza and soda and chips and dip and cookies. I hope and trust that most of my readers are far more sensible!

A few weeks ago, the scariest part of having COVID wasn't "having COVID" -- it was getting laryngitis for the first time in my life. And the scariest part of that wasn't not being able to speak, it was not being able to sing. At all! I could whistle, oddly enough, but not sing. The singer at the heart of me was terrified that I might never be able to sing again, so I was relieved about a week ago to find that my singing voice was returning.

The other night, I went online to find videos of some of my favorite Renaissance polyphony. As some of you probably know, you can find choral pieces accompanied by scores to sing along with, which I haven't done in several years because it can make me homesick to attend or sing choral evensong. And it's like potato chips...you can't "eat" just one! Over the course of about an hour, I sang the alto part of Victoria's "O Magnum Mysterium", Byrd's "Great Service Magnificat", Tallis, Gibbons...even the Smith "Responses". Overall, it went pretty well, given that I so rarely sing at all. I struggled a bit with the Byrd, since I didn't know it as well and I was sight-reading, and I was weaker in the higher (soprano 2) registers, but my alto 2 was totally in place (!) I am not sure what this hour taught me, except that this kind of music remains my passion, despite having moved -- spiritually -- so decisively into a new Goddess realm. 

Here's a complete non sequitur...in the midst of all this, I am looking out with astonishment and horror at all the rising world tensions. And yet in the end, it doesn't surprise me. Paradigms based on conflict and competition don't really want true peace, or even the absence of war. They need conflict the way people like me need music and art and beauty. And, unfortunately, throughout world history, people like me have rarely had any power. As futile as it sometimes feels, I choose to focus on loving harmony in my thinking, writing, as well as in the obvious place, music. It will probably be the only light-filled path through what is trying to become a very dark passageway. 

The Cold Continues

I started this yesterday, but needed to leave it unfinished for a day. Today is equally cold, and will be through Friday. Warmer weather returns Saturday.

It originally looked like this cold "snap" would last only two or three days, but we are well into day four, and I think it will last at least another two. My line in the sand is -20 degrees F -- if the air temperature or wind chill is below that, since I don't have a car, I don't go further than about a block from where I live. And I'm still hearing the words "minus twenty-five" and "minus thirty" on the radio, so forget about it. If a friend offers me a ride somewhere, I'll take it, but I cannot risk a ten minute walk to the bus stop then waiting for a bus, unless I have no other choice.

For years, I have been one of the most fortunate essentially "homeless" people on the planet, and in this weather, I am in an almost constant state of gratitude. Most people without secure housing risk their lives almost every day, no matter how many shelters or warm places (libraries, buses, malls) there are, particularly in this climate. Yes, there are as many "reasons" for homelessness as there are people (in my case, it is philosophical), but in the end, I see it as an inevitable outcome of a conflict-driven, "kill or be killed" system. Since we've all been satisfied to live in such a construct, we have created homelessness, poverty and loss. We have made these conditions inevitable. I guess the only good thing about increased climate chaos is that more and more people will experience homelessness "through no fault of their own" (or at least that may be their perception), and perhaps they will then yearn to create a fairer and more loving overall system.

I know one thing about a more Goddess-inspired culture: it will never be necessary to "earn" a living, or a warm roof over one's head. It will never be necessary to prove one's worthiness to come in out of the cold.

Real Winter

Back in the early 1990's, when I first moved to Duluth, I thought a lot about my Canadian forbears at this time of year. Early on, I frostbit my feet by buying winter boots that were too tight (you need enough space around your foot for warmth to collect). And then, during a frigid spell when I couldn't get my car started, I had to wait for the bus, and my glasses didn't get steamed up -- about a half inch of ice coated the lenses, so I couldn't see through them, or around the edges. I arrived at my job in tears, asking everyone, why in the Sam Hill do you live here? (forgetting for a moment, perhaps, that I was living here too!) I used to think, Duluth is nearly 400 miles to the southeast of Winnipeg. My great-grandparents were among that city's earliest European settlers...how on earth did they survive winters that were cold beyond belief? My grandmother, their youngest daughter, was the province's first woman lawyer, and would briefly work in both London and Paris at the end of WWI  before settling with my American grandfather in New York City and its suburbs. My journey had gone backwards, from London and New York City out to Duluth. This unwinding wasn't intentional, but I've still often thought that some imprint had made its mark on me, suggesting paths forward, upward, or -- perhaps? -- homeward. I still don't feel completely at home here, but this weekend's frigid cold at least doesn't freak me out any more.

I'll let the scientists decide whether this "real" winter spell of wind chills between -20 and -40 degrees F is the result of climate chaos, or simply a return to the norm. Practically, what it means for me as a non-car owner is a few short forays to take out the trash, or errands within two blocks or so. It may mean keeping my glasses off when I am outside (in a glasses case), and covering my face almost completely. And, it means being very grateful to be old enough not to have to get to a job, or work outside -- I'm super appreciative of those who do. But a lot comes to a stop in this weather. Hibernation is the best idea of all. You start resonating with bears...

Finally I cried

The title of this post will make sense in a minute. Thanks for bearing with me...

So, I had a big moment about a month ago, in early December, which I am pretty sure got lost in the shuffle. I looked in the mirror one morning, and for perhaps the first time in my life, I fully accepted myself. I thought I was beautiful, and I loved myself. And somehow, in that moment, I also realized it was the first time in my life that I was looking at myself 100% through the eyes of the Goddess. There was a completely different energy to the experience. Feminist art historians talk about the "male gaze" in so much painting and sculpture; how much of that is present when all women look in the mirror? I think in the past, my mirror reflected dissatisfaction, judgment, ugliness, even complete invisibility. 

Interestingly enough, within the week, I was coming down with COVID. I don't know that I even looked in the mirror, knowing I felt miserable and probably looked the same way. I didn't have the energy for two weeks to do much more (as you know from what I wrote!) than listen to classical music radio and read (yes!) my regency romance novels by Mary Balogh, most of which I have read multiple times. 

Several times as I read, I broke down and cried. The most common thread involved orphan children. In the first passage, a woman said that all children need to know that someone in the world cares about them above all else. This triggered tears because I simply don't think it has happened to me in this lifetime, starting in my childhood. (And the truth is, I am not sure I have felt the same about anyone else...) The second plot involves a young woman who starts caring for an orphaned newborn baby...I cried because I love babies, but in this lifetime, I have only held small babies for a few minutes, perhaps half-a-dozen times. I cannot believe that it has taken me this long in either case -- a lifetime of suppressed sadness -- but finally I cried. I won't go so far as to say that upper respiratory illness is "just" that, but if I were a doctor, I would certainly add "going home and having a good cry" to the prescription!

There is more to say about all this, I know, but I guess I'll stop here for today. There is a connection between the three events -- opening up my heart to loving myself, getting royally sick, and crying decades of unshed tears. As rocky as this journey continues to be, I am so very thankful to the Goddess for excuses to delve deeper and feel more.

Newness

Looking out at the world the last few days, there didn't seem to be much that was "new" and good on the surface of world news. In fact, I would be hard pressed to remember (in my lifetime) a less encouraging beginning of the year. Added to that, as often happens when I reach a higher measure of inner peace or understanding, as I did to a small degree late last year, I've subsequently had some very wobbly days indeed. I've wanted to cry to release the last remnants of my congestion, but simply could not. So...I move ahead. Maybe I'll cry later today.

I thought I would start the year trying to do a better job of describing what I've been calling "post-duality". I know that religious people from various traditions have other -- surely better -- terminology for this state, and it dissatisfies me to use the word "duality" at all in the name. I mean, I am a product of duality as is everyone on earth, and it's true that I am evolving out of it. But in the spirit of newness and trying to take the focus off separation, I will start calling it "harmony thinking".

We are surrounded by opposites: light and dark, warm and cool, male and female, war and peace, "good" and "evil", hard and soft, etc. etc. etc. It's not like I look out and don't see these polarities (what Abraham-Hicks calls "contrast"). Many of them have helped create both our natural and manmade worlds, and probably will for generations to come. But what I have finally come to understand about myself is that I am constitutionally unable to see or act on these contrasts as the tipping point for violence or conflict -- even peaceful activism. When a "versus" enters the picture, I am incapable of taking one side and fighting the other. I am incapable of fighting for or against. (This may look from the outside like complete indifference, which couldn't be further from the truth.)

The two modern careers that might have been best suited to my intellect are the law and academia. And yet I couldn't take the "fighting" inherent in either of them, or in most of our other constructs. Of course, this is my bad luck. When you aren't even capable of fighting for your own survival, you end up at the bottom of the barrel, by our current standards.

Still, I look out at a world gone mad, and know that the impulse to fight has led us to the brink of disaster. My models are always the worlds of music and the visual arts: in a choir, the altos and basses don't fight each other to the death. They practice until they can create beauty and harmony out of their disparate sounds. In painting, colors opposite each other on the color wheel are considered "complementary", not "the enemy". A painter works to bring visual opposites into beautiful balance and harmony. Although I'm still not sure if Goddess thinking and harmony thinking completely overlap, it is hard for me to imagine the Goddess/Mother Nature being able to tolerate many more years of human conflict. She must be yearning for us to evolve beyond where we are now.

Perhaps it is my own wishful thinking, my belief that we are entering a "newness" phase of history that is more harmonic and love-filled. And I guess I can live with that, if it keeps me from feeling hopeless as I head toward my 70's!