I guess it goes without saying that this was a rocky weekend. Nothing like finally "figuring out who you are" after 68 years to send you up and down the emotional roller coaster. Over the last nine years, I have circled closer and closer, but this time it feels real, if only because I can tell that in some ways, I'd rather be anything but a Queen of the New Paradigm!
The biggest journey was one of grief, and the catalyst was watching the Olympics, which (of course!) I watched to distract myself. Initially, I felt a new openness and appreciation for the athletes, respect for their awesome talent, enjoyment of the Paris venue, even, occasionally, became excited during an event, cheering the athletes on.
But it was the very cheering that sent me into a tailspin. I mean, imagine someone cheering you on!!! It is an experience I have almost literally never had.
Scanning my life, yes, I have been at the receiving end of some polite clapping. When I gave an organ recital in 1973, people clapped, and same again at a much better- played senior Smith organ recital in 1977. At the 1982 degree ceremony where I received my MMus diploma, Royal Albert Hall was packed with University of London graduates, so when I walked up on stage, there was quite a bit of loud clapping, and I think my fellow Royal Holloway friends may have cheered a little. When I have sung in church services, of course, cheering was never appropriate, and choral singing (whether in services or concerts) is a group effort, not a personal achievement. At my 50th birthday (which I planned!), I was feted and appreciated, and even my dad said some nice words. But loudly cheered? I don't think it has ever happened, and for a while this weekend I fell into quite a depression over that.
Yet it finally hit me that raucous cheering may be a function of the Old Paradigm, with its conflicts and contests and sports events and focus on winning. And then when enthusiastic support gets all tied in with patriotism and statistics and the emphasis on "better" and "more", emotions become even more engaged. Someone like me who has always been instinctively post-duality and post-conflict has literally done nothing that involves winning, so there has been, perhaps, nothing to cheer. And because my life seemed completely nonsensical to everyone, including me much of the time, I'm sure no one knew what goal to cheer me on towards!
One of the gold medal winners found his mother in the stands, and I could see her say, "I'm so proud of you!" Those are also words I don't remember ever having heard from anyone. (Unprompted, anyway. About 20 years ago, I pitifully asked a few friends if they would write me a note saying they were proud of me...I guess I just wanted to know someone was proud of my efforts to follow a different drum, if nothing else!) In recent years since I started this blog, dear friends have occasionally dropped me texts or notes that have literally been the breath of life.
By the end of the weekend, I did feel a tiny, eensy, sense within myself that the Goddess has always been cheering me on. And also, that "cheering people on" may be part of my new role. Should I become aware of people actively choosing the bushwhacking path of all love, and I see that they need cheering or a hug, may I leave my own traditional reticence behind and support them! We are in this together.
