Healing

Oddly enough, the word "healing" is not on my old list of Goddess words. In this lifetime, I have been fortunate enough -- most of the time -- not to need to focus on issues of illness and healing. I always found the Gospel stories, with their many healing miracles, rather curious. Strange. Illness hadn't been the main catalyst for my spiritual growth, although I know it can be for many, and I never quite resonated with those miracles.

Until now. I guess it stands to reason that at such an important crossroads for humanity, little old me would experience a medical challenge. It is something I had no choice but to pursue "traditional" modern treatment for, and willingly. And yet as that treatment seems to be working only partially or slowly, I fall back on what I learned thirty years ago when my mostly-no-health-insurance-mostly-no-health-care journey started -- our medical construct, like the majority of our institutions, is duality-based. It is based on fighting disease, thus, essentially, conflict and violence. True, most of us don't want to think of it that way, and when faced with a condition of any magnitude, we want to fight! We want to overcome illness and be well. If modern medicine can remove the problem, or the pain, or the discomfort, then "hell, yes!", right?

And yet I know now, as I did weeks ago and indeed decades ago, that the Goddess meant it when She told me She would never ask me to fight against (or for) anyone or anything. If everything is created by the Goddess, if everything is the Goddess, then there is no "enemy", no "disease", to speak of. Attempts to fight -- even in this context -- may only maintain or expand the "illness".

Even for me, this is still pretty mind-blowing...which may be why this particular challenge has come so late in my journey and also at the dawn of an all-Love Age of Aquarius. Because I am pretty sure most aspects of our duality-based science and medicine models will soon be turned on their heads. There is nothing to fight. There is contrast, yes. There are different colors, hues, and tints, yes. But nothing to fight.

Real healing, true healing, can only happen from this point forward in an environment of all-Love, complete self-acceptance, and complete acceptance of others. Yes, releasing old toxins, impurities, blockages, frustrations and anger is necessary, as they have been the roots of most illness. We need to bring our bodies forward with us as we awaken and unify. As Love floods the world, old pain will rise up and dissipate. At the moment, I am trying my best to walk this very path.

Perhaps some of you are also facing medical issues, or the frustration of only partial healing, and if so, hang in there. Try whenever possible to align with Love, with your true self, and with your most powerful link to the Divine. Listen for intuitive leadings. If you are like me, this may happen only in fits and starts. If you are like me, you may not yet be "ascended" enough to create an instantaneous healing event, much as many of us grasp that such things are possible. I've struggled the last few days with a sense of spiritual failure...I've been on such an intense spiritual journey all these years, why can't I heal faster? This is old talk, but it is rising up like other toxins to be dispersed into the ether. I am as good as I can be, and becoming more aligned with the Goddess every day. I am healing, and it is an ongoing process using old and new methods. 

I also wanted to report having recently seen a face filled with such love, acceptance, and good-humor that I was bowled over. While I think this was this person's natural state (and that it was not directed explicitly at me), the energy of it almost literally "branded" me. It's like, wow, finally! This is what Love looks like and feels like! On hard days, I need to remember it, and use it as a healing touchstone.

Goddess Words 52: Decisiveness

The ability to make a decision and follow through with it.

 I don't know whether it is about the particulars of my journey or being a woman in our macho culture. But "decisiveness" has been a really hard quality to embody, except on a handful of occasions, all of which have involved getting myself to England! But overall, my sense of being a person who gets to make my own decisions is, even today, quite wobbly. Women of my age grew up seeing few women in the public eye, which gave us the message that we would have little agency, even for things like property ownership, credit, and work. This seemed to "change on a dime" when I was about 15 (and the new message was, we women could do anything we wanted with our lives). But of course, what we didn't realize as teenagers is that the culture at large hadn't changed on a dime, and here we are, about 55 years later, and I still have never really, fully, accepted my own agency. And when you haven't got agency, it is hard to be decisive. 

Most of our lives have been further complicated by the need or desire to help others, or create families; I've been far more independent than most of my friends, and husband and children never entered the picture, but I also didn't believe in our system enough to thrive in it, making decisiveness and commitments requiring money (!) a challenge. So many of my friends have told me they still don't know what they would have wanted to do with their lives (and be decisive about), if they had been totally free. Decisiveness is a muscle, perhaps, and many of us just never had the opportunity to practice using it enough. As I approach 70, however, I realize that this is the moment for decisiveness and commitment way beyond the level I have yet achieved. To represent the Goddess (and Her Love) unwaveringly in a world that has lost its mind will require singlemindedness of the highest order.

The hardest part is watching as increasing numbers of people (and a large percentage of them women) are being stripped of all agency. Of every measure of freedom and income and health and shelter. I shouldn't be stunned by how energetically some people relish stripping others of their humanity, of their ability to make their own life decisions, but I am stunned, sick to my stomach, and furious. I realize that my own fears around decisiveness and commitment may stem from a lifetime of sensing this shadow looming over us, ready to pounce. It is actively hard not to fight back, but I can only use my power to create a love-filled future.

Is this why am I so committed to the Goddess, especially now? Yes, because Her paradigm may be the only one humanity hasn't seriously tried for untold generations. Because Her paradigm may be the only one that completely embraces the power of women and the importance of women. Twenty years ago, why did I add "decisiveness" to my Goddess list? Probably in the hopes that She might teach me to focus and act more decisively. At this stunning moment, I think She, herself, is being decisive --  Earth's people must now rise above fear, conflict and selfishness, period. I feel very emotional thinking about this. She knows that the only future for the Universe is Love, and She is committed. Now we must commit to Love as well. We must join her in our decisiveness, and only focus on Love. Only create using Love. I don't know why this is making me cry, but it is. Goddess bless us all.

Libraries

...as in, thank the Goddess for libraries, as long as they may last. My life has been so punctuated by times where the library was my only access to a computer (not to mention the pandemic year when I had neither computer nor library access, thus the opposite of most people's COVID experience!)

I have tried to start every morning with five minutes (yes, a mere five minutes!) of meditation, trying to access the highest level of love and joy that I can. Some mornings I have been successful, and some mornings less so. Yesterday, for instance, I turned on my timer and basically fell back asleep sitting up. Yet later in the day, I experienced around twenty minutes (over two stretches) of what I can only call joy or bliss. It was extraordinary. Here I am, still not completely well, antsy to move my life along, and hardly feeling aligned and in a state of inner peace, yet I somehow tapped into "it" -- maybe with the help of that photo I posted yesterday. I am immensely grateful to find myself getting to that place with no reference (or reverence) to outside influences. Somehow in the midst of it all, my inner channel must be clearing out.

Happy weekend everyone. I won't be joining in the scary celebrations this evening -- tomorrow is scary enough. I hope to get back to you within the next four or five days, by which time 3I Atlas will have flown by Venus, which in spite of myself, I can't help but be curious about! Take care!

New Paradigm Image

 

This seems like the energy of joy and wonder that we are all seeking. 

(In "reality", it is washed plastic bags drying in the sun.) 

It's Interesting

It's interesting. It is a foggy morning, having clearly dropped to 32 degrees last night. As the sun is rising, the light frost and dew are thawing and steaming. I went out for a walk wearing orange, and had to edge far into the narrow shoulder to avoid the traffic. 

Fog has certainly been a good metaphor for me recently, because truly, this has been the most mystifying transition for me of all the ones I remember. I think I have relied these last few moves on going "back" to places that perhaps I hadn't completely finished with, but once I re-visited several old places this summer, it became clear that that phase of my life is done. When I make the next transition, I hope the last major one, I believe it will be in a new way, to a new (or newer) place or situation.

However, in an interesting example of the "fork in the road" I spoke about the other day, at the very moment when I am also hoping to upgrade this blog somewhat, the Universe has stepped in with a tech challenge that I'll need to address soon. Over the next few weeks, I may have to focus on the basics and write a little less regularly while I make some decisions...it seems fitting in a way that as we leave the Age of Pisces and enter the Age of Aquarius -- and as I anticipate that I am transitioning to a new reality -- I need to make a change in this area as well. As ever, one of my guiding questions will be, "What would the Goddess do?" "What will be the best solution for doing the work of the Goddess?" Those questions increasingly help me cut through the fog.

What I Am and Am Not Writing About

Today I am expanding a bit on something I said last time. 

This has been an astonishing year. I don't have to tell you that. Astonishing, horrifying, flabbergasting. The wigging out that I anticipated as new waves of genuine Love enter our world is happening, big-time. For the sake of anyone new who might have discovered this blog, I wanted to say once again that, in not often writing about or analyzing world and national events, it is not a case of sticking my head in the sand. Hey, I am a former Time Inc-er. I listen to or watch the news at least once a day. I get exactly what is happening.

It's just that at going on 70 (my how this year has flown!), I am not willing to honor certain kinds of people and events with my attention. Whatever is left in this lifetime, whether five years or 35 years, will only be spent focusing on my values and the people and events in my "world". Earlier in my life, it was hard to avoid being clay in the hands of men, institutions and a cruel economy -- when I wasn't an unsuccessful pot being tossed out into the trash! As hard as I tried to be the subject of my own story, to form my own beautiful ceramic creations, I was rarely successful (except, arguably, here!)

When I turn my astonishment 180 degrees, to the emerging Aquarian age and the Love energy that is flooding our world, I know that if ever there were a time to be my own heroine, it is now. If there was ever a time to carefully focus my energies and words, it is now. As a child of extreme narcissism, it is a challenge every day to write mainly about my own process, my own path. But if these posts have helped even one other woman discover her own inner mystic, then writing every hard-won post will have been worth it. As I become clearer and clearer and more solid, and as the Aquarian era becomes clearer and clearer and more solid, it will simply stop mattering how shambolic the old paradigm becomes. There will literally not be something to write about.

I guess I just wanted my readers to know I am not completely clueless. Why I am worrying about that now, over ten years on, I don't know!

Forks in the Road

If all had gone as planned, I would have been attending an out-of-town event this weekend that I had felt strongly led to attend. My medical situation forced me to cancel, and so there's that interesting moment where you wonder...why did I feel so called to sign up, only to have to cancel? Usually when faced with a fork in the road, it feels like an active choice...should I take road A or road B? You stand at the crossroads, scratching your head, thinking about the relative merits of the two paths, and then make a decision and hope you have made the best one. 

But sometimes the Universe makes that choice for you. I personally never think that it's an "accident", althoughI know some people do...in this case, I feel sure that the enforced quieter time was for a reason, both to sink into the joy of taking pictures of these auras that I have started to share with you, and perhaps to personify the "Great Void", the place from which the Great Mother creates. 

Hmmm...that phrase I just used. "Sink into joy." Most of us think of joy as a higher energy, something to aspire to, rise up and feel from a higher place. So why did I say this? I guess I'm increasingly feeling connected to the energies deep in the earth, and deep within myself, and recognize that to fully inhabit such a beautiful emotion means spreading both down and up, out and in. I have felt short moments of unexpected joy this week, which considering everything (particularly our world and national situations) is surprising. But I think it's a case of, when I was a child, Love and not-Love were completely tangled up, but now that I'm older, I clearly see the difference, and I don't feel any desire whatsoever to inhabit or focus on the space of not-Love. My world vibrates at a certain energy, and whenever there are forks in the road, may I choose the path closest to that vibration.

My Love Language

 

At the risk of becoming a bit of a "Johnny One-Note", I'm including another photograph where my camera seems to pick up a dramatic aura around the sun's rays. In fact, you may well see more over the next few weeks, because in the midst of this void that I am in, this strange limbo cum health hiatus, attempting to capture this effect is the first thing that has passionately grabbed me. 

Here is the odd thing. My "real" camera doesn't seem to capture these halos. My flip phone camera may simply be made of cheaper materials or have a dirtier lens. Whatever, I don't care. At this brief moment in time, I am finding it thrilling.

And here is the important thing...something words cannot really express, although I had started in a few previous blogs to do so. Energetically, these photographs share a common energy -- almost an identical energy -- to my beloved choral evensong repertoire, and related a cappella choral music. This is the visual equivalent to the "O Lord, in Thee have I trusted" moment towards the end of the Howells Collegium Regale "Te Deum". Or the entire Tallis "Spem in Alium". Or almost any page of music from many evensong services or commonly-sung anthems. For me, anyway, when people refer to entering the Aquarian age, or the age of all-Love, this is the energy I feel throughout my body, and see in my heart, and hear in my inner ear. This is what Love feels like, looks like, sounds like. 

I've stumbled upon my Love language, I guess, and will do my best in upcoming weeks to continue to express it in as many wider ways as I can. If I find this "common energy" in yet other forms, I'll try to bring them to you immediately, even if I haven't worked out a more polished way of doing so!

Another New Moon

I haven't slept well recently, and this morning I have been up since about 1:30 AM, so I finally decided, it's a new moon, so why not really do something "new" and get up and write -- and in addition, change the format and color of my blog slightly. I mean, this is pathetic -- minor changes...not reflective of what apparently is the actual power of this new moon...but it feels quite dynamic to start the day so very differently.

One thing I am realizing, in the brutal honesty of 4:30 AM, is that I am bored. And I think I've been bored much of the time in this lifetime. If I am "Aquarian" on as many levels as I think I am, then it was always boring (if you will) to deal with the dying civilization of the Piscean age. I've done my best, but I've rarely been fully engaged, in my element, full of life. So at this pivotal moment in the world's evolution, absolutely all my old kinds of options feel like closed doors. Most of my activities have lost their luster, or I can only do them for very limited periods of time. I had planned a new adventure later this week, but then a bodily illness jumped in to cancel that plan. Hmm...

On occasion, I have said that life felt like a long bright hallway with a lot of doors, only one of which I could open at a given crossroad. But this morning early, I seem to have even less actual agency. I feel more like I'm in a fragile paper bag, and the Goddess is carrying me somewhere completely, utterly new, and when I get there, the bag will open and I will fly out -- my earthbound self having had no choice in the matter whatsoever. I will still be on this planet and in this lifetime, but "flying" more freely and with more integrity, and in a completely new landscape, literally and figuratively.

The other day, I found yet another beautiful little bird's feather on the ground, light grey with a small patch of orange-y pink. I've looked online, but can't find images that match it, so perhaps this is my wing. My transportation when the bag opens, perhaps in another new moon, or two or three.

Another Week

Another week, in what may be the strangest, hardest year in all our lifetimes. If the astrologers are right, it will be an eventful week. This essay is definitely a "miscellany", but I've used that title too many times!

On Saturday, I stayed home. I simply had to because of my health situation, but I probably would have anyway because I just do not seem to have it in me to do anything "against" anything. But I honor the many millions who went out -- all of us made different agreements about our roles in this lifetime, and I believe everyone (bar none) is doing their best to play their role. 

Part of my personal role is to be as honest as I can possibly be in these posts, and I have to confess to some rare envy surfacing. Some of the astrologers and other New Age people I am following online are so far ahead of me in terms of their ability to function as experts. They are being heard, in a word. After all these years, I still don't yet know what that would feel like, musically, or in terms of speech. And another little dose of envy surfaced...I had a meander around Schenectady's most historic district, with its charming 200-to-300-year-old houses. If I had had a more normal life and career, and had found my way back to the Capital District, it is where I would have wanted to live. Again, a smidgeon of envy tormented me. I mean, I know why I couldn't function in our economy, and I have come to accept that so many factors have, in effect, priced me out of such a life. And I know perfectly well that within a short time, "normal" life of any kind will probably be impossible. Still, I find myself longing for one year -- even one month -- of that world or something equivalent. It's a pointless exercise (I've lived the experience that I agreed to for this lifetime!) but, yup, I'm human. And its not fair to myself or to readers to pretend that I am untouched by the emotions and "failings" we may all hope to be moving beyond.

I am reminded this morning that no matter how unsettled and unconventional my journey has been, it has been more comfortable by far than that of millions of people around the globe. It is hard to express exactly what emotion is surfacing about that...it's almost like "words cannot express"...

Also, I'm feeling extraordinary sadness that we are all being so bombarded by hatred. I try to pivot as quickly as possible from sadness and even anger into the place of joy and unity that we are heading into, but it is hard. I am trying to remind myself that the intensity of this negativity is in part what will make people start choosing all-Love. 

And as for "stamina", I still don't have enough stamina to continue my discussion of that word!

I received a precious gift the other day, a set of Goddess-centered oracle cards, and one of them illustrates "The Great Void" as a seated Goddess with the Universe in her belly. That is my card for this week. Another week. Another incredible week.

Goddess Words 51: Stamina

This is going to be short today. (How's that for irony, when the topic is "stamina"?!) 

Yes, in the midst of this medical thing I am dealing with, I knew that the best, most constructive thing I could possibly do for myself, the world, and the Goddess, is to present another word on my list. And the only one that seemed to fit the day is "stamina" -- having the power to endure and sustain for the long term. 

Wow, thinking back to the mid-2000's, I am trying to imagine why I considered this a Goddess word. My journey since working in the corporate world had been long and circuitous, and had required a level of strength and stamina that I probably didn't even know I had. But by today's standards, life "back then" was somewhat less tumultuous, and, of course, I was twenty years younger. 

Perhaps I knew that to survive these many generations of neglect, the Goddess Herself has needed a level of stamina that we humans cannot possibly even fathom. Gaia has also needed immeasurable stamina to survive as a planet. Sometimes I am up to the task of envisioning how the Great Mother would think or feel, but today, not so much...so instead, I'll just focus on the extraordinary stamina of human women. All over the world, we are facing unprecedented challenges, and most of us are doing it with strengths that we didn't even know we had. We are enduring. We are persisting.

That's all for now. Perhaps I'll do a "PS" next time! 

Of Things Medical

As so often happens on this Liz path, I "spring ahead" and then all-too-soon "fall back". (From what I understand, this is pretty common for people on any kind of intensive spiritual journey.)  Late last week, I was pretty excited about having inched up the creative scale by including a photograph in this blog, and I was looking forward to one or two upcoming events that would be spiritually reinvigorating.

Within hours, I was thrust into a medical situation which has drained all my time and energy. Yes, it is something affecting me, and yes, it is something relatively easily dealt with. But when post-duality me has to deal with our health care system, it's an enormous challenge. I'll go so far as to say it is traumatizing. It is nearly impossible for me to get into a place of any kind of fighting, even "fighting illness", a concept that even today is core to our modern notion of healing. My brain and soul are straining to operate in an all-Love, new paradigm way, but my old paradigm body and the system I have almost no choice but to turn to, tend to operate the opposite (although my body is doing an extraordinary job of learning!) On a few occasions these last few years, I have just had to do my best to explain to my body that we needed to take such-and-such a step, to bear with me. I asked my system to do its best to zig zag through old and new paradigm thinking to bring healing as quickly as possible.

One thing I cannot help but do, especially in these times, is think in metaphor. As a woman, I watch Gaia struggling for sovereignty, and to excrete toxins, and I see that same process happening within me. A few times these last few days, I simply sat crosslegged and tried to envision total, immediate and complete healing. I'm not evolved enough yet to heal myself that quickly, but do I believe it is theoretically possible? Yes. And if at this crucial moment in time, I needed to experience some pain in order to accompany other pain-filled people on their paths forward, I warmly accept that role.

It's not going to be possible to attend at least one upcoming event that I had thought would be catalytic. Yes, I am disappointed. But I've been on this journey long enough to know that it's possible I've moved too quickly and no longer need that step. Perhaps another more appropriate step is unfolding in its place, in the silence and enforced stillness. This week became more of a Void than I anticipated, yet after a rocky few days, I welcome the emptiness and will listen as intently as I can to its messages. Crow came to me in an oracle card, and when I finally got out for a walk this morning, about half-a-dozen of them flew out of the trees and cawed a greeting. I greeted them back. I'm (as ever) glad to be alive.

A New Light

 

Well, I did it. While this doesn't yet represent a major change in the direction of being more multi-media, it is (I think) only the second time I've published a photograph. This one was taken a week or so ago on my flip phone, and it made a slightly circuitous route into this blog, but I'm making progress. And my actual camera does still work, but doesn't yet communicate with my computer. Lastly, after taking a few stabs at illustrations and the concept of animation, I'm on the fence because it's not energetically rich enough or colorful enough for what I am trying to accomplish. It's all about the transmission of energy right now. So, onwards and upwards.

The reason I have liked my little flip phone camera is that in the right light, it captures these auras, or reflections, or whatever they are, making the image seem truly alive. I do believe (as I said last time) that we are entering an era that will be characterized by a new quality of light, and love, and truth, and if we take our focus off the circus fanfare, here it is! In front of our very eyes! The sun hitting the vase just right, the sunset a color of reddish-purple that you've never seen before, even finding that you can see in the dark better than you used to.

I'm a little embarrassed to say that my "crawling in the grass" experiment was a little unsuccessful. Well, a lot unsuccessful, due to my own inability to relax and not worry about whether anyone would see me. In fact, I quickly pulled out the ol' cell phone in order to be seen to be doing something "valid" -- taking a picture. Having said that, I got a brief up-close view of a clump of weeds that was surprising and interesting, so I'll keep pushing the envelope in this regard as well. Heck, if all else fails, I'll offer you a series of photos from ground level. It's not quite the same as being a young child with no agenda but to crawl around and explore the world, but it has given me an ever-so-slight change of perspective, which is helpful at this tumultuous watershed time.

Rock on, folks. In the midst of "it all", just do one new thing this weekend, or see one old thing in a new light.

Uncovering

I guess the best way to almost guarantee that few people will read your next blog post is to announce that you have uncovered another layer of anger! We'll see what happens...

So, thinking back on childhood, and the fact that I wasn't aware of nature, has been the source of a new stream of sadness and even rage. And this goes beyond the specifics of my particular family, really. The bigger question is, in American society at large, have youngsters ever been taught to respect Nature or to take a loving interest in animals, plants, insects and birds? The answer was probably "no" 70 years ago, and undoubtedly still is. I won't make any larger generalizations except to say that with our country's leadership role in the world, it is tragic beyond belief that we've encouraged a focus on human progress to the almost complete exclusion of the needs of Earth, our solar system, and beyond. Watching what we are doing (or plan to do) to Earth's waters, skies, the moon, and the planets -- yes, it makes me actively angry. I've stuffed a yearning for the Love of the Great Mother so far down in my system, and tumbled around so long in a loveless black hole of narcissism, that I've been numb, to this day. Feeling anger is at least a relief!

I mean, what haunts me is little girl me. Let's say my mom did let me loose in the back yard to crawl around on the grass. Putting aside her inability to take an active teaching role, and putting aside the fact that by this time, I was probably already nearsighted (I needed glasses by age 5) -- how is it humanly possible that my little eyes didn't notice the butterflies, or the lines of ants, or the texture of the different kinds of grasses? How, until very recently, did I have no curiosity about the natural world? Why did I feel so detached from it? Why did I seem to feel that it didn't matter, just as I didn't matter? Why did I spend a lifetime trying to engage almost exclusively with the entities that clearly did matter, and measure my worth in that context? The answers are self-evident. The paradigm in place dictated what should be valued, and little girls, butterflies, and Nature's importance/sovereignty, weren't valued per se. Sometimes when I become aware of my anger, I don't know whether it is on my account, or on behalf of the Goddess. Perhaps it is both.

In the last decade, I have uncovered so many mother lodes that, if I were a miner, I would be a millionaire by now. This work can seem never ending, and if I didn't firmly believe that we are in the midst of a huge energetic/Love ascension right now, I know I would succumb to complete despair. I'm so exhausted. So exhausted. But I do believe that we are experiencing ascension, and that within a short number of years, Life will be infused with such high levels of Light and Love that we cannot describe it in our current understanding or language. Nature Herself will be ascending at the same time that we do, so we cannot expect the natural world to stay as we remember it from childhood. But if we can uncover our childlike Love and wonder in the face of Nature, and focus on the feeling of respect and awe, She will be our companion as we all rise.

I'm going to go out later when it warms up a little (autumn weather has finally arrived!) and crawl on the grass, and just see what I see. Glasses on. I don't care who sees me. I'll describe the experience next time.

But this IS surprising...

Surprising thing A is that I am writing this in the afternoon Tuesday, not my normal time. (But proofing and publishing today, Wednesday.)

I just had the privilege of being given the opportunity to consider what nature was like at the house where I grew up. Was I aware of it? Of animals, birds, insects, weather events, and so forth? In an initially rather sad outgrowth of what I wrote the other day, I had to be honest with myself and say, the answer to that question is a decided "no". Some children make intense connections with wildlife, the landscape, or the elements, through games or imaginary worlds, particularly when their home life is rocky. But my parents themselves didn't really have a relationship with the nature, and I didn't grow my own connection independently, at least early on. "Experiencing the out-of-doors" was wading in our plastic wading pool, pedaling my tricycle down the cracked cement driveway...and you've heard the story about my making a fairy tea set with my grandmother (see May 3, 2016). Did I notice hawks and cardinals, or rabbits scurrying for cover, or caterpillars, or spider's webs? Did I notice the wind, or the power of a heavy snowfall, or the aroma of cut hay from nearby fields? No. I can remember half-a-dozen of the specific books on my parents' living room shelf, including Rachel Carson's Silent Spring and Winston Churchill's History of the English-Speaking Peoples (I guess I was fated to be an anglophile!) I remember the placement of every single item of furniture in the house. But we had no pets, and the outside world's "pets" were beyond my ken.

So here is Surprising thing B. The suggestion was made that I consider whether the wildlife near our house noticed me! I was a beautiful, blonde, blue-eyed baby girl, and I assume that from time to time, my mother took me out in a stroller or to crawl in the grass. Did little squirrels peek out at me from under a bush? Did eagles study me from above, or did the trees feel a warm sense of wanting to protect me from the wind? I mean, this has opened up a door to the possibility that, instead of being terribly alone as a child, I had a community of loving -- or at least curious -- animals, plants and insects around me, keeping me safe, caring, wondering how I would turn out. Even more than my parents, local wildlife may have valued my presence. What an amazing thought!

I feel badly that I was so clueless back then, so I guess all I can do is thank this wild population in the present. These days I actively talk with birds and squirrels, and take pictures of nature's beauty. Someday soon, maybe I will actually stop by the house, which is still there, even if just to thank that big tree that served to shelter a fairy tea party...

(And in true "Lizpath" style, yesterday's rich considerations have uncovered another vein of sadness and anger. Next time.)

Not Surprising...

I guess it is not surprising, in the wake of so much earth intensity and personal growth, that a hard moment would enter the mix. As part of what started out as a fairly innocuous conversation the other day, some of my family's demons rose to the surface, and I have had -- at the very least -- to acknowledge their continuing potential to cause me pain. 

This isn't something I could illustrate with art, photography, or music (even if I had pulled all those strings together already) so all I will do today is express again the message I received early in this lifetime and often: you are not worthy of our attention, financial support, or love. Period. Full stop. Yes, I was fed and housed through high school, attended private school and college, and seemed to benefit from the 1960's Capital District infrastructure that I currently see around me in its 21st century iteration. On the surface, it was a good American start in the world. But way deep down, there was no "there" there in this little nuclear family. There was no actual top-down Love, and the person who could be blamed for everything was not only blamed, but deep-sixed. The person with probably the greatest ability to love was ostracized. I mean, this first happened on my "birth day", and then over and over from then on, and the psychic pain is immeasurable. I keep thinking that I've done as much healing work as I can, but clearly I have not. 

What is so traumatizing about our current time is seeing the very same impulse playing out on the larger stage. Perhaps it was "the human condition" of the previous paradigm to leave unwanted people in the psychic wilderness or kill them off. But that sorry paradigm is coming to a rapid close. The Age of Aquarius has started. The Goddess is in the ascendant, and such activities will rapidly become obsolete. In the future, we will never do such things to our children, any of our children. 

This is the moment for some of us to address past trauma and pain, and make a final push to heal. Wounds may be manifesting as physical pain, emotional pain, or a combination of the two, and obviously some measure of active healing cannot hurt. But I also think we are going through the portal into an era where, literally, a lifetime of slights can no longer hurt us. If, in the past, other people chose to operate from a place of non-Love, their choices can no longer hurt us. By next year, 2026, it will be time to move forward without the heavy load of past grief. It is time to completely let go.

I know how important I am. This is not ego, or narcissism, or power-hungriness, it is simply understanding that when you are a facet of the great Goddess, you cannot possibly be "unimportant" or "unworthy". It is time for all of us to start resonating with new words like "worthy", "extraordinary" and "brilliant". And it is time to see what life is like when it reverberates those energies back to us!

"Spem in Alium"

Last night, I couldn't sleep properly for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was perseverating on the news. At midnight, I turned on my local classical music station just in time to hear the very beginning of a piece I have sung only once, but feel I know to the core of my being, Thomas Tallis's "Spem in Alium", the haunting 40-voice motet. (Oddly, and it must have been the lack of sleep, I spent several bars thinking, "Is this 'Spem in Alium'?" before realizing that of course it was.) 

By the end of the piece, in ten minutes or so, I sat up and thought something that, unbelievably, I don't think I have ever thought or said before. And that is: it is completely unacceptable that I have lived a life largely separated from this music, which is energetically me. (And of course, I don't mean just "Spem in Alium", or Howells's "Collegium Regale" or Parry's "I Was Glad" or Harris's "Faire is the Heaven" or Byrd's "Sing Joyfully"...or any one of thousands of pieces and services that are part of the English cathedral repertoire.) It is unacceptable that I was always an ocean away, or a gender away, or a nationality away, or whatever it was that pulled me apart from myself. And as much as I hope the next few weeks and months finds me incorporating this music and my visual arts skills into my self-expression in a more effective way, that is still arguably window-dressing. This tradition is me, the core of me. This is my music, my primary form of beauty, my primary form of spirituality, my energetic vibration. It is my primary form of "religious" expression, despite a personally expanded theological context. "Spem in Alium" means, essentially, "Only in Thee, O Lord, do I put my trust" -- if at this moment I dedicate my love for this music to the feminine face of God, I get to do that. I am 69 years old, it has been a journey and a half to stay alive, and I get to do that.

Needless to say, I was finally able to get to sleep. Then, to wake up and hear that Sarah Mullally has been named the first woman Archbishop of Canterbury...what synchronicity. Or is it?!

All I will say today...

All I will say today is that what we are seeing in front of our eyes isn't the tragedy (as I am sure I've said before). The tragedy is the dualistic paradigm that humans have lived with for so long. The tragedy has been believing that strife is necessary and winning is possible, in any situation. The good news is that we are growing out of duality -- into a more unified, less conflict-driven mode.  This is the proverbial dawning of the Age of Aquarius, as little as it may look like it some days. More and more people will come to realize that the only antidote to hatred, fear, and conflict is Love. And much as I, at least, cannot begin to love certain people or situations, I trust and embrace what I believe of the process, which is bringing more Love to all life in the universe. All I can do today is be as loving as possible in as many situations as possible, to align with that greater Love.

(It's still not clear whether my old camera, which I did find, will be compatible enough to use for sharing photographs, so I'll keep you posted on that.)

Go Big and/or...

As I look forward to a fuller, more rounded way of expressing my thoughts about Goddess energy and values, something beyond written essays two-to-four times a week, an expression keeps coming to me: "Go big or go home". We've all heard this so often in a variety of contexts, sports, entertainment, business, and (I assume) military. It's meant to encourage the fullest possible effort toward success, and the avoidance of returning shamefully home with one's "tail between one's legs", yet another colorful idiom. Either succeed big or fail utterly.

In recent years, I have joked with myself that, having never had a permanent home in the modern sense of the word, I have no choice but to "go big". Up until now, each post I've published has been "big" in the sense of moving beyond my comfort zone into a new level. Up until now, I guess that was as big as I could manage. Contemplating going even bigger, I realize that I need to tweak the saying a bit! Each step forward has been a step closer to home, to alignment with Goddess values and a sense of unity, oneness, and self-actualization. (The old saying is so painfully duality-based; it's either/or.) The home I am on the path to is way beyond that duality, and the trauma caused by duality. By "going big" I am "going home". They are one, not mutually exclusive.

This morning, I've decided that the easiest and most doable first step toward adding visual or musical facets to this blog (and my expression of the Goddess generally) is  to find my old camera, which recently surfaced and I decided to keep. I haven't used it in at least a decade, and I may need to take it somewhere to be checked out. But my flip-phone photographs don't appear to be transferrable to my computer, and I take pretty good nature images which I'm not currently using to the fullest. If I use the camera rather than my phone when I see one of Nature's wonders, it will be easier to periodically add these images to my blog. And in order to do that, I may need to change the overall look of this blog. For most people of the 21st century, this would be a quick no-brainer. For me, it's a huge initial step, and it may take a few weeks, but it is time. 

Go big and go home.

Goddess Words 50: Rocking

Wow. My fiftieth Goddess word. When I started presenting these words in 2022, I surely thought that I would have exhausted my list by now, but having presented only about one or two a month, there are still many to go. And from where I am "at" today, simply presenting a list of words doesn't seem like an adequate way to create a new society. Yet when I think of them as energetic building blocks, it begins to seem like a more viable foundation.

So my first word in July of 2022 was Love, not surprisingly. Today's is "rocking". An interesting trajectory! Love -- the real thing -- can certainly rock a person, an institution or an object.

Most of the definitions I see start with the traditional sense of gentle movement back and forth, as in rocking a cradle. I wonder if modern mothers ever use old-fashioned cradles or rocking chairs? They must...varieties are sold, although some of them don't require mom's presence or impetus. When I added this word to my list twenty years ago, I was thinking of the old-fashioned motherly facet of the Goddess: a being who would lovingly, gently, rock me in her arms or a cradle, and make everything all right. Part of this is that I don't remember having been rocked as a child in this lifetime, and perhaps few children have that active memory. I don't have the muscle memory either. Having stayed single, hugs and cradling of any kind have been a rarity -- giving or receiving. And of course, it isn't just a case of wanting the physical sensation of being touched, rocked, comforted, or cherished -- it is about the love behind it. I yearn for a sense of the divine's expression of Love, closeness and immanence, not the traditional distant entity in the sky!

Of course, the definitions go on to speak of back-and-forth movement of any kind, even more violent. It's a bit of a stretch to move from a mother rocking her baby in a rocking chair, to a mother and child being literally rocked off their furniture or out of the house with the force of an enemy explosion or attack. In this situation, gentleness has been turned on its head, replaced by rocking as a means of spreading fear, death, and power over. I don't believe that human-made extreme events causing rocking (bombs, war, razing tall buildings, explosions involved in construction and mining, even fireworks and loud automobile back-firings) are the realm of the Goddess. I suspect they make her weep almost inconsolably.

But rocking happens in yet another context, of course, one that is becoming increasingly common and intense, and that is earthquakes and volcanos. When these events are looked at from our limited human view of staying safe, it can seem as if Nature is attacking us. Tragically, we are all so addicted to conflict energy and terminology, it is hard to get beyond it. But looked at completely from the standpoint of the Goddess, of Mother Earth having a body which She is the sovereign of, the weather and geological pictures become more nuanced. The Earth is growing and changing right now, as are we. She is stretching, trying to rid herself of old toxins, realigning Herself for the work ahead. She is alive and sentient, and hopes that we will be reminded of that as the earth opens up and the old foundations rock and the lava flows! As hard as it is to fathom, this is Her expression of Love. Her way of guaranteeing that this planet, so very dear to Her, will remain viable and flexible, and survive as a place supportive of Life. 

And that gets us back to Love being something that rocks us. While in a sense I don't know what I am talking about (from my experiences in this lifetime, anyway), I've finally reached the point where I understand how thoroughly I will be rocked by the reality when I do experience it. (OMG! I said "when", not "if"!) Human or divine, genuine Love both gently cradles us, and rocks us to the core.

 

A Memory

As I go through this process of inwardly going "belly up" -- that is to say, finally realizing my need to use all my creative skills to express my inner spiritual reality -- a related memory has surfaced which I don't remember fully unpacking here.

When I left New York City (and the corporate world) behind in 1990, I went to Pendle Hill, the Quaker study center outside Philadelphia. It was basically the first time I had experienced Quakerism's classic silent form of worship. I had stopped being involved with church music, and wasn't attending church or cathedral services except once in a blue moon. It had begun to be obvious to me that girls and women would never have a place in that musical tradition, and so I was probably carrying a fairly heavy load of -- what? -- resentment, anger, dismissiveness. Perhaps this factor entered into removing myself to a retreat space offering silent spiritual worship.

I remember the powerful onrush of feelings, sounds, and "sights" around my first few morning meetings. Participants sat in benches around a square open space, and the first ten or fifteen minutes tended to be completely silent. Then, one by one, a few people might stand and say a short message based on their internal leadings -- something they felt compelled by Spirit to say at that moment. Meeting for worship would eventually end when the clerk or another participant reached over to shake the hand of their closest neighbor, and the rest of us would do the same. There was no minister or music (except for the rare occasion when an individual sang a few lines of a song)...there were no processions or readings.

For several weeks, my morning meetings weren't silent, they were almost raucously loud. My brain filled in the silence with hymns, organ preludes and postludes (the louder the better, you know, the Widor Toccata kind of thing!) I would inwardly recite  the 1928 Book of Common Prayer communion service ("Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid..." In fact, I could practically recite the priest's part of the entire service!) I could hear snippets of sermons I had heard over the course of my life, and little bits and pieces of other religious writings, readings, the Psalms, and so forth.

It would take weeks for this cacophony to settle down. Intellectually, I understood that early Quakers had started as a sharp deliberate contrast to the tradition I had grown up with, so I was experiencing in real time what that meant -- replacing outward forms of God and the worship of God with an inner sense of the divine, and inner worship, if you will. Perhaps even those first Quakers had a hard time not hearing organs, singing, and sermons. Sound rushes in to fill the silence at first, that's for sure.

I would finally begin to understand, intellectually, then actively experience, this new reality. It was like a photo negative of my spiritual life to date, but once it took hold, the notion of "that of God within" became firmly rooted. One day, sitting in the silence, I suddenly "heard" a message that needed expressing. My body literally shook ("quaked"), and so I stood up and spoke. I cannot remember what I said, but it was a powerful experience. I think this is when I finally started (started!) the path towards trusting my inner truth, a path that arguably has only now begun to solidify.

And as an example of the latest manifestation of the process: I am grateful for the left brain skill to be able to articulate in words so many of my experiences and observations. But even as I reach the end of this post, I find I have the urge to use a more "right brain" form of expression too, to find a more spontaneous way to express the feelings, the colors, the inner and outer music. This moment in history is shaking it all up, like a snow-globe, with the glitter that's been kind of pushed under the carpet demanding to fly through the air, and be seen.

The Portal

At the retreat space I recently stayed in, there was an intriguing, almost Gothic front door. When it was open, and I looked from the dark inner room to the hot, tinder-dry bizarre-for-September landscape outside, it seemed more like a portal than most doors. (My own personal definition for this word is a metaphorical doorway from one reality to another.) Even though most of the work I did on retreat involved simply coming to terms with, and growing to love, who I am, a lot of that was looking backwards and gathering up, with tenderness, all the threads of my life, all my skills, all my passions, all my experiences. But it appears that when I left that building, and walked over the threshold the last time, I was "going through a portal" more powerfully than I realized. As recounted yesterday, the first step was a vague sense of needing to bring music and art into my creative efforts in a new way.

Today may mark the second step. Again, these thoughts are still quite unformed, but here they are. It is not just a case of somehow bringing together the music I love and the art skills I learned over thirty years ago. It isn't about "using" these older skills in a slightly newer expression, or maintaining the focus on a certain religious tradition, or painting tradition, or simply bringing all these influences together into one opus (although that was my first thought). It's not about making music in a traditional church (or cathedral, or concert hall) venue, or using art to portray today's external world.

My new creative endeavors will involve literally turning myself (and these skills) inside out, making them completely and intrinsically mine, reflecting as best as I can the values of the divine feminine. It will somehow involve taking media apart and re-presenting their sights and sounds, trying to illustrate my inner visions of the future. I realize that this isn't completely novel! Expressionist and visionary artists, and modern composers, have long brought the inner, "out". 

But until now, I couldn't do that, I guess. I still felt that the traditions I emerged out of were too powerful to break away from or to "make my own". I was shackled to how things have always been done (strange for a girl who wanted to sing with the boys!) and what people might think of me if I strayed. What has changed in recent months? These extraordinary times, for one. Turning 69. And the process I've been through of releasing most of my old belongings. I loved my grandmother and her lessons on how to oil paint. But the other week, when her painting box (which I had left in a "free" pile by the side of the road) went to a new owner, I was so excited. When my mother's sewing box went, ditto! When most of my music books and CD's went to a university music department, ditto! Liberation. Loving one's history and gently letting go of most of its physical reminders = the portal.

As I've been writing this, it started raining for the first time in weeks and weeks!

Stepping out from the Starting Line

On Saturday, I was sitting by a big window, looking out at an unusually warm autumn-y scene, peeling apples for an apple crumble, listening to some English church music, when a thought came to me. Up until now, my primary building block efforts on behalf of the Goddess/Age of Aquarius have been in writing in this blog, particularly my Goddess words. And I'm proud of what I have written and processed here. But in a flash, this thought came to me: it is time to add music and visuals (art and perhaps photography) to this endeavor. To create a more multi-media way of expressing myself. I have the musical skills, I have the artistic skills. 

Of course, it's kind of interesting that I thought this in the immediate wake of having given away most of my music CD's, painting supplies, and other traditional media. Also, in the wake of brainstorming about new creative expression.  Actually, it makes a certain amount of sense. I had to release the old in so many ways...clearly I am not meant to go forward as a traditional oil painter (much as I love "Portrait Artist of the Year"), or to sing in a cathedral choir. The time has come to bring these skills and passions forward along with writing, in a new way. Can I envision exactly what I am talking about? No, although a few flashes of inspiration have tried to get through to me over the years. But there may never have been a moment when it was more imperative to express love and beauty and harmony in as many ways as possible. If writing no longer feels like enough, then I have other powerful tools to use to record my impressions of where we are headed. What the new age will look like, feel like, sound like.

Hmm...heady stuff for the new moon and the autumn solstice. May yours be equally rich!

Back to the Starting Line

This morning, I am almost in tears, I am so thankful and happy. The process of this particular "retreat" (and the cat-sitting day or so as I ease out of it) has been so intense and profound -- and, at 69-going-on-70 -- so necessary. A reckoning. A PhD dissertation. A point which I'm sure relatively few people attain, that, "Thank goodness I've reached this point in this lifetime" moment. I did a happy jig the other morning, and while I'm not feeling quite as agile this morning, I am glowing.

I mean, in some ways it is so simple and so obvious. By the time I was about six, all the pieces that make me "me" were in place. I had already (at 4) fallen in love with the English men and boys' choir tradition (and had deep memories of other lifetimes in that country). I wanted to sing (or later, to conduct or have some other significant connection with the tradition) -- and I also had a clear sense of my identities (and past lives) as a saint and a nun. And I had been pushed ahead in school, so my intellectual capacity was recognized by teachers. I mean, by second grade!!! What this last week provided was the opportunity to circle around and return to the core truths. Completely. Fully. Warm-heartedly. Embracing myself. With forgiveness for myself and the world. Back to the starting line. 

Because, with a few exceptions, most of my life from that point forward involved trying to fulfill society's expectations for me or, failing that, to find a way of being me that would at least meet with some minor measure of acceptance in some circle or another. How could I make "being me" work, especially in rugged capitalist America? Energetically there is simply no overlap. And my sense of the Goddess's values being just about literally the opposite of our culture's adds to the picture -- I think I was on Her wavelength before I realized it. The amount of energy I have expended all these decades doing things that weren't "me" -- trying, sometimes desperately, to fit in, or succeed, find a home, or adopt other peoples' passions -- yikes! I always say it is a miracle that I am alive, and I say it again. I don't regret anything and I met such extraordinary people along the way. I've been getting clearer and clearer about this for years, haven't I? But finally I completely trust myself and my perceptions. It's like some kind of powerful truth serum has washed over me, and I can delineate with exceptional clarity those experiences that were genuinely "me", and those that were not.

Putting aside for a moment all the other ways I have denied being myself, there's the question of England. I am on another binge watch of "UK Portrait Artist of the Year", and reminded again of the shame I have always felt at knowing in my heart that England is home. Sort of like, when I'm in the US, England is my guilty secret, and when I've been in the UK, I've not dared fully relax into being happy and at peace. It is a part of me I have fought and fought and fought, especially recently. But this time, I am not fighting. I'm embracing it. I'm seeing pictures of "home" on the television and feeling the warmth and love percolate through me. Allowing myself to simply be that person, to allow the mantle of unacceptance and shame drop away effortlessly, and be in joy.

It's interesting that the finale of the season I just watched had the winning portraitist paint author Hilary Mantel, and in the painting she is wearing a prominent scarf, almost a mantle. I don't think any of these kinds of coincidences are coincidences!

OMG. I'm so thankful. It took 70 years, but I've made it back to the starting line. For whatever it is worth, near the top of my list of assets for the Aquarian Age is that each human being on earth be encouraged to fully be themselves! Each and every human being. 

Unplugging

The whole idea of a retreat is to unplug. Heck, even under normal conditions, I'm less plugged in than the average American -- but it was good to spend about 24 hours with public radio news turned off. While there is a certain early morning hour where I frequently hear national news, extended local news and weather, and -- yes! -- a star report (astronomy, not astrology), I was reminded that this is more than enough for me every day. After the silence, this morning's news seemed particularly shocking and rife with "non-Love". Had I rapidly become sensitized, or was the news actively less Love-filled? I don't know. Maybe both. But there is no question -- even a person of high spiritual intelligence becomes more numb after every encounter with the headlines. Finding that right level of exposure (where I feel up-to-date without sliding into anger or hopelessness) is challenging. 

What grew in the unplugged silence? A surprising level of acceptance of my personal "goodness", joy, and inner unity. Putting it this way sounds bizarre, I know. Yet as someone who is aware of having been pushed back by the time I was in the womb, chronically teased for being "holier-than-thou", and derided for my inability to "get with the program", I have swallowed a lot of self-hatred over the years. Most of us assume it is only people who aren't good enough who are weighed down with self-abhorrence, but believe me (as I think I've written before), the opposite can be true. Beings who cannot love loathe Love, Goodness, Joy, Beauty and Harmony. Those of us who represent these qualities are often oppressed/pressed down along with other populations. And we squelch it within our own selves when we are around others -- so as not to seem "holier than thou". What a ridiculous vicious cycle! To have a few days where I can fully accept -- even embrace -- my own inner goodness -- is valuable beyond belief. 

This morning I did a little happy jig around the living room of my retreat house! (I can assure you, this is new!) The Goddess's return calls for a celebratory unveiling of all our bright lights. This light is guiding Her back to us just as we are being led to the heart of Her. The "dawning of the age of Aquarius" also calls for joyful celebration. (Non-Love will simply fizzle out. That will be news worth plugging in to!)

A Monday Mystic

Despite all my good words the other day, old habits are rising to the surface, and this morning I find myself counting down the hours until my retreat is over. I guess I simply have to forgive myself, allow those feelings of scarcity and limitation to wash over me, and try to rise up and get an eagle's-eye view of things. I am a mystic every day, on Monday, Wednesday, Saturday, whenever and wherever. I can choose never again to let time or exterior conditions dictate my essential qualities. And when old ways of thinking do intrude, I can choose to be gentle with myself and others.

Interestingly enough, I may hate to see this retreat "end", but in fact it has had its challenging moments. I haven't slept well. I don't think this has to do with physical comfort...more a spinning mind. And I have listened to public radio news periodically to keep up with what's going on, which leads to more mind-spinning. Perhaps not a good idea on retreat! I'll give that a 24 hour rest, and see if it helps. Another challenge is that over the weekend, there was a very well-attended festival only a hop-skip-and-a-jump from where I am, and crowds and music spilled over. I guess you cannot always completely "retreat" even when you try...and that's OK. This is an extraordinary time, a speeded-up time. Right now, there may always be overlap between worlds and experiences. Perhaps everything is "liminal space" right now.

Here's what I'll do -- look at these next few days as study time, and then, heading back "into the world," go into my practicum, my opportunity to further experiment with being a mystic in a frenzied world. How can these spiritual lenses help me facilitate earth's changes, and humanity's challenges? How can I best serve people, non-human beings, the Earth, and the Goddess? How can I be Her, today (Monday) and everyday?

Clocks

I'm only a few hours into a retreat, and I'm already counting down the days and hours until it ends -- and not in a good way. In the, "I wish it didn't have to end" way. This is old energy, but there it is.

First, may I say a word about clocks, without trying to delve into the whole thing about whether or not time really exists. That's beyond my comprehension. But I am a clock person, a "wear an old-fashioned watch" person. I tend to arrive places early, and be very conscious of timings, even when I am not in charge of an event, or have no way to control things (like buses running late, etc.) It can lead to some stress and anxiety which a more clock-free person might never experience.

On a larger scale, clocks have loomed largest for me on occasions (like right now) when I am spending a limited time doing the thing I am happiest about, which makes me, "me". The classic was the year I spent studying in England (and for nine months, singing services with the Royal Holloway choir) -- I was in such a perfect milieu for me, and was so happy, that I wanted more than anything to stay there the rest of my life! But my airline ticket back to the US was scheduled for late September of '81, and so my mental clock started ticking down almost the day I arrived. As the year progressed, I became unhappier and unhappier (although I was able to pull it together and finish my thesis work), and as I've already mentioned several times, I cried all the way back across the Atlantic. What was I dreading? "The real world." Having to return to find work that would likely not interest me, pay back student loans, play a part in corporate America, in a country that felt foreign, etc. The contrast isn't quite so stark now (more like, returning to prepare for low-income senior housing or a better equivalent) but that sense of "the real world" energetically not fitting me is as profound as ever, perhaps even more so because of the events we are witnessing. 

I had an "aha" this morning, and if it's the only one I have over the next few days, this will have been a rich retreat! The "aha" is the realization that, of course, what I didn't want to leave wasn't just England, the church music milieu, the retreat center/contemplative milieu, or even simply being on my own, able to use my time as I wish. What I have hated seeing the clock tick down on is me being me. Me feeling free to be absolutely who I am, without allowing our culture or our economy or others' opinions to squash her.  My Goddess-orientation may be a relatively new wrinkle, but She was always there under the surface. Even with such power within me, I tended to cringe once the clock ran out, and let the "real world" take over, dictate events, and batter me about. I handed over my power.

The trick now, is to return to the so-called real world, knowing that my Goddess-centered, English church music-loving, mystic, New Age self is now more important to me than anything the world serves up. Anything. I plan to stand tall, walk out of this door, and continue (energetically) to be fully me, knowing the alarm will never again go off on that!

A Step Further

The ups and downs of the last few weeks have been the catalyst for the urge to take this "Goddess thing" a step further. This is a good thing. I mean, the urge has been there for several years, but the pandemic and post-pandemic time led into the "leave Duluth" time, and these things were, well, distractions, if the truth be known. And while a renewed impulse to move on is in place again, I realize that there is an even stronger imperative -- the need to do more than simply write about the Goddess in this blog. I'm about to do a weeklong "retreat", and my purpose? To brainstorm even the most unlikely possible new scenarios. (I have to come up with a better word than "retreat". I mean, when I'm on retreat, I am basically returning to me. Maybe each time I go on retreat I am going home.)

So there have been a few slightly wacky ideas in my head for a while, pushed back by my inner "conventional girl". (Hmm...funny that the word "convent" is in there, given my anchoress tendencies!) I mean, I've been many things, but I've never been weird. I wasn't a hippie, I never took drugs. I've always dressed conservatively or boringly (albeit often in hand-me-downs). For a relatively short time when I was trying to make money as an artist and art teacher, I tried to look the artsy/New Age part, but it never really "took", except for my earrings, which remain rather distinctive. To do anything that might draw too much critical attention to me continues to be hard to consider, even after a decade of writing this blog.

Among the things I am throwing into the brainstorming mix are:

• Dressing more like the Goddess every day...what would that look like? Probably focusing on a single color, like various shades of blue and teal, wearing more silver jewelry, getting dressed in the morning intending to be Her representative and making sure my looks count more. I probably spoke about this years ago, but it still hasn't happened
• Walking across country (well, OK, with my feet, it might have to be travel by buses or trains) leaving hand-written notes from the Goddess wherever I go, and speaking about Her when someone asks me
• Beginning to do videos instead of or in addition to these written posts. I've thought about this for a while, but never got up the nerve
• Creating a huge sculpture of the Goddess. Again, this has been in my mind for years, but not owning property, there has been the tricky question of "where?" Ultimately, because I don't believe there's any property that isn't hers, this is a false roadblock
• Literally becoming an anchoress for the Goddess, if I could find someone to be my support system. An oracle-in-place. People would hear about me by word of mouth and come to speak with me in person.

This coming week, I'll consider more ideas as they come to me...seriously consider them. I think I've finally moved beyond, "people will think I'm strange". That doesn't matter any more. There cannot be anything stranger or more horrifying than much of what we are seeing in the world.

Parallel Realities

This weekend, I was able to pull myself together and go out into the world to do some "normal" things. That is to say, things that in modern America aren't considered odd in the least: I had coffee with a friend at a coffee shop, I went into three huge big box stores, and I attended a street art fair. 

The coffee was pretty easy to manage, especially as the weather was fine enough to sit outside at a picnic table. Friendship and the out-of-doors -- a good combination. But the big box stores were truly torture. In all three cases, I was basically "along for the ride", but there were a few essential items I needed and the timing of the car ride was providential. Still...these cavernous buildings crammed with items made from plastic, or wrapped in plastic, or in many cases, both, have come to be an impossible energetic mismatch for me. The one store with a focus on clothing (much of which is also made of man-made materials) had the added disadvantage of being an unholy mess, with apparel tossed hither and yon, shoe box piles toppled over, and sales signage all askew. The line to the cashier was crammed with what I assume are meant to be impulse purchases, all completely glitzy, plastic, unnecessary, terrifying. That so much of our economy and international tension is based on literally shiploads of these kinds of items is mid-boggling. 

The one grocery store in the mix was not much less overwhelming. In fact, it may be more so. (Sorry to bring this kind of thing up again, but I have to do it!) It is so huge and spacious, so glamorous in some respects, that its effect was even more uncomfortable. My mind conjured up (as it frequently does) being a citizen from a war zone, or a visitor to this country from a place of scarcity -- how to even mentally take in all the space, the piles and piles of produce, the numerous brands of each kind of food? The fruit and vegetable area must have been as large as two good-sized American homes, and there were maybe five people shopping at that moment. Who is buying all this food? How much of it is being tossed out in the dark of night, and where? What happens to the tons of expired food? I mean, this isn't about becoming better at collecting such food and distributing it to needy populations--in many communities this is already being done. It's about my certainty that this whole model has been unsustainable for decades, and can't last much longer. But then again, I've thought this thought for years. Plastic is arguably pushing the situation past the tipping point...food items that until recently were still being packed in easily recycled glass bottles or jars are now in plastic. The Goddess in me is in such unbearable pain searching the aisles for my few items, I wish there were another alternative. But this area's only whole foods stores (with some access to bulk buying) are almost impossibly far away for someone with no car. Everything is challenging without a car here. I knew that was going to be the biggest difficulty of the move away from Duluth, and it has been. I don't regret my move one bit, but this is the reality.

Lastly, the outdoor art show. Again, a conflicted experience. It was a beautiful day, and lots of people were out. There was quite a mix of art, quality-wise. I have pretty high standards, so there were really only two participants whose work I really liked. I was glad to see some very young artists displaying their work, but my age was showing -- their work was filled with cartoon, superhero and other references that I didn't quite get! For about 20 minutes, I sat on a bench and essentially people-watched, which also included a considerable amount of dog-watching. Fun. Normally, I would say that art is an important balance to everything happening in the world right now, worthwhile whatever the quality, medium, or subject. But nonetheless there was a sense of unreality about the scene around me. As happens so often with me, I wanted to run around screaming, our world is about to change utterly! Don't you see what's coming? And oddly enough, Mother Nature may Herself have spoken when the wind came up, and a number of artist's metal display units came crashing down, leaving artwork flat on the street and, in some cases, broken. I was sorry for the painters, but also felt a bit better. We have to expect the unexpected right now.

I hate to be so "yes, but..." with so many things. Perhaps this is why I'm experiencing some pretty big swings in energy. I just don't look out and see or feel my exact energy match anywhere. Some of my newfound kindred spirits online seem to be far more undilutedly happy and enthusiastic about our current shift of eras. They seem to be able to move more completely into the New Age without focusing on what some people are calling the old "timeline". Perhaps it is because my connection to that old paradigm has always been so tenuous, and I have had so little security. I'm thrilled that we are finally entering the Age of Aquarius! Overall, I can sense how completely dated and unworkable the old loveless ways are, and I'm excited at the calibre of people around the world who are rising to a new level. It's just that I can feel the lower energies powerfully too, because I've been on my own navigating them for so long. These two realities couldn't be any more different if they tried. But as of now, there are few completely new paradigm places or institutions, so for just a little longer, I guess, the parallel realities will be with us, until the old ones simply fizzle away and we slowly start to build new institutions from the ground up.

Goddess Words 49: Hospitality

I guess it stands to reason that someone from my background might include "hospitality" on a list of Goddess words, as if the Goddess is some kind of society hostess! 

Returning to the Capital District has forced me to look at my childhood influences, and in this regard, I'd have to say that neither my mother or my father were exactly "hospitable" people. I mean, Mom didn't routinely have friends dropping by for coffee or tea (although her bridge club arrived en masse about once a year). I don't think my dad had any friends, so there were never men coming over to play poker in the basement or to watch football. But there were some special occasions, particularly a very formal yearly New Year's Eve party. Once I was old enough, I was allowed to stay up as guests were arriving and play waitress with trays of hors d'oeuvres. The men weren't in tuxes exactly, although I remember cummerbunds; black and white evening jackets were the norm, and the women wore long shimmery dresses and jewelry. Before too long, the living room was too smoky and drinky for me, and my mother would shoo me upstairs as a man with a deep bass voice intoned one of the Christmas letters we had received, to guffaws of laughter. (I always felt rather sorry for the sender.)

One definition of hospitality includes the word "generous", and to me, this is key. To be true "hospitality", a person's welcome needs to be genuine, from the heart, embracing. It's not about impressing people, or good business (although these days that facet has entered into it), or feeling sorry, or forced good humor. It's about not serving the coffee that's been sitting in the urn for hours, but making new coffee. It's about really caring that the person you are welcoming is comfortable, and has been refreshed. Some of this is so engrained in me that, even having so rarely had my own place in which to entertain or welcome people, I sometimes find myself playing that role in other peoples' houses. There is something in me that just cannot help it. The visitor may have travelled some distance, may be tired, thirsty or hungry, and simply may just need to sit down. I get it.

Judging from my favorite Sister Fidelma mysteries, hospitality in 7th century Ireland was written into law, at least as far as monasteries, inns, and some other institutions were concerned. It was a societal obligation to put up the stranger at your door, and this filtered down to individuals in the smallest of hovels. I cannot know whether, thus codified, hospitality lost its spontaneity and generosity, but at least someone wandering on a dark road at night could expect to be welcomed in some kind of basic way at the first house with a lantern at the door. We all need this at some point in our lives, perhaps often.

In the context of current events, it is almost unbearably painful to see how our national concept of hospitality has been turned on its head, Our stance couldn't be further from that of the Goddess -- hate-filled not generous, pushing out not drawing in, cold rather than warm. I shudder to think of the "karmic payback" we are drawing to us.

Well, we are all playing a different role in the enormous shift that Life is undergoing right now, and we can only find the role that is right for us, and play it. If I've said this before, forgive me the repetition -- I think that the values of the Goddess are so instilled in me that my role is, in effect, to be the hostess, welcoming people to the new era, recognizing the difficulty of the journey we have all undertaken, and wishing to provide travelers with a soft chair, a cup of hot tea or ice water, a snack, and a footstool. I want to provide hospitality, to say "welcome". You made it. We made it. This paradigm is real, and this is what it feels like -- warm, welcoming, generous to all, and a relief from the tumult we've been through. I'll want people to take all the time they need to acclimate, to heal, and to refresh. If they make it to the door, my light will be on...wherever I am.

And another...

This is one of those weeks when, if I write, I am still alive. Now things aren't as dire as that, by any means, but this process of "ascension"/keeping up with emerging Aquarian energies as the world falls backwards/staying true to myself is not getting easier. I feel ripped to shreds, and in a "space" I don't recognize (and this is on top of how unrecognizable our culture has become.)

The process is getting more interesting in at least one respect, however! I got one phone call yesterday, just one, and it was to confirm that I will have the opportunity to do a three- or four-day retreat next week in a rather interesting location. More (perhaps) about that later. But it confirms for me that I'm in this "place" where the only communication actually reaching me is information that I truly need, spiritually. Nothing else is coming in -- and perhaps some of what I am sending out is, itself, unnecessary for me and for those at the other end, thus the silence.

I know I've said this at least once in the past...I've kept going with this blog in large part to chronicle what it has been to be a 21st century-American (with stronger ties to Britain)-Goddess-centered mystic. What life is like when your values are the complete opposite of the culture. The joys, the wonder, the complete uncertainty, the fear, the hard decisions, the solitude, the occasional moments of connection and beauty. The wavering in and out of feeling held by the Great Mother. There may be no one out there with my exact imprint, but as I found in the friend I spoke about last time, there are certainly other wandering female mystics and always have been. The difference is that in this era, I have this venue to express my thoughts. In a way, this blog is my only true "home". If my posts are any help to even one other woman on a mystic path, I'll feel "successful".

I'm still not necessarily planning to write every day moving forward, so not to worry when a few days go by. Still, I feel led to be ever more regular and open with both good and bad -- about my life path. (I feel less led than ever to commenting on the crumbling infrastructure outside of me, because the focus now needs to be on trying our best to navigate the path to a very different future.) 

Another Day

I think there may be a few people who check in to my blog to make sure I am still alive, and I am so appreciative of them. Yes, it has been "quite a journey" and this is probably a good way to check. Here I am today, September 4, 2025, another day! I am thankful to be in a beautiful setting, which is sustaining and encouraging...but doesn't always completely smooth the path.

Because of one of the ideas I was considering yesterday, I was reminded of a remarkable woman I met about 30 years ago. She was a much older version of me, an Aquarian mystic, and she had been wandering for at least 30 years. We couldn't help but compare notes. She was the person who explained to me that people with old paradigm thinking and an ability to function well in our old paradigm financial system are the ones who thrive, as do those with new paradigm thinking and an ability to function well in our old paradigm financial system. It's those of us who are "new-new" who find no traction, no easy way to move forward. I think that she eventually made her way "home", but how far into old age she lived, I don't know. I hope she had some comfort and community toward the end.

At the time, I remember thinking, if the next thirty years of my life are as unsettled as hers has been, I won't be able to bear it. There must be something I can do differently -- and yet, my life was a variation on the same theme. It has been "unbearable", and yet bear it I have -- and most women around the world bear much worse. I think I mused once before over whether the experience of contemporary male mystics is different or easier. I suspect so, but I don't know any personally. My hunch is that they may be taken more seriously, and listened to more readily. I value my alone time more than anything, but the woman in me longs for community, sharing, and mutual learning and respect. And my ideal community (like my ideal choir) would mix the gifts and sounds of both men and women.

A few wispy white clouds on the horizon today...rain must be due. Or storms of some other nature.

On an ascension path, I guess there are stretches of time when your new energy just simply doesn't communicate with the old energy surrounding you, and there's an awkward readjustment. Goddess give me the strength to keep going, and to take the path ahead -- when I know what it is! Thank you for bringing me to another day.

Five Monarchs

I don't know that I have ever done two posts in one day, but I had to add a short post script. Yes, it's been a particularly unclear week. I feel so clear in my own self, but, as ever, not in terms of how to navigate the world. I said I needed to look for beauty, or something beckoning and shimmering to hold onto, and on a walk just now, I saw not one, not two, but five monarch butterflies. That's more than I've seen all summer combined! It's a little pathetic to hold onto this for dear life, but I will. If they can stay alive in this crazy world and flit from goldenrod flower to goldenrod flower, then I hope I can too.  

When the Bottom Drops out

I guess I should have expected it, seeing as how I have experienced so many revelations recently, and so much in our outer world is shaking and quaking. 

But I feel like I am having one of those weeks where just about everything is dropping out from under me. My living situation is shaky, and when I try to connect outward with people or make plans, it doesn't happen properly. I'm not hearing back from texts and calls, and I'm not even getting the pleasure and learning from various online teachers that I was for a few months. Fall is coming, and with it the panic about where I will be when it gets cold and icy. It's so simple really. I want what I've wanted for years, to find people like me and be in community with them. But my take on things isn't easy for some people to absorb, and while inwardly I know that I am a treasure (!), not everyone has seen me, my presence, or my process that way. At my age, and at such an insane moment in our culture, it would be so easy to throw up one's hands and say, I just can't do this anymore.

What will keep me going? Breathing. Remembering that the time we are entering is much more "my time" than the time we are leaving. Finding one thing that is good and beautiful. One thing that is working. One beautiful thing in nature. One thing that shimmers beautifully on the horizon. I signed up for an event that I think will play that role, so I hold on tight while the gauze is tearing and the bottom is dropping out. If any of you are going through this kind of thing, please know that I'm with you.