Well, true to the new normal, things are bouncing from one extreme to another, weather-wise. Where a week ago this area was completely in drought, in the last few days we have been inundated with rain, which will turn to snow in a day or two, just in time for Thanksgiving.
I feel almost soggy -- with new insights and (I hope) wisdom. It's like I have been a sponge in recent months, soaking in all the new observations and understandings of a new level of being human, and I have absorbed as much as I can and am now absolutely saturated. In addition to that, the sudden movement has been, at times, stressful and painful. I suspect this means that for the near future, it is more a time of healing and incorporating these new "aha"s, and less a time of forced outward or upward expansion. It is a plateau, a plateau where I have the privilege of a roof overhead and warm inside temperatures. There is a cozy kitchen where I can bake. (Hallelujah! It took half-a-page, but I have finally arrived at the right metaphor!)
I suspect that many, many people are undergoing a similar kind of inner spiritual rising. We're like loaves of bread in the greased bowl covered by a kitchen towel, sitting near the radiator. We cannot help but "prove" at this moment in history. We cannot help but slowly expand, and become bread for the world. We cannot help but quietly grow into people more beautiful, nurturing, love-filled, and joy-filled than ever before. While it does matter that there are people outside the bowl who represent (for us, anyway) something ugly and inedible, it's OK to keep that old towel on top and to continue to focus on our rising. And there is nothing sharp, or painful, or harmful about the bread we are becoming. It won't kill. It will create, and nurture lives. It will be warm, healthful, homey, and representative of women's values and traditions all through time.
Bake some bread or pie or cookies or apple crumble for your Thanksgiving feast -- from scratch -- and see if it changes the people who eat it, just a bit! See if you can see the walls around their hearts starting to fall. See if they smile! Happy Thanksgiving!
