Trans-formation

This is clearly a time of trans-formation. A change of shape and energy. A change of landscape, of human assumptions, and of (literally) what life on earth will look like, be like, feel like. We are crossing a chasm into a new form, into higher-level ways of being. I personally think this is happening across the entire universe, and that the human-created horrors we are seeing are, in effect, last gasps opening the way to more Divine Love. The loveless energy that appears to be on the ascendant simply cannot, in the long term, overwhelm Love. It isn't possible. We've all heard of "teaching moments", and for humans this is the teaching moment of all teaching moments.

That's why, as strange as it is, I feel more joyful every day, because I know that the old paradigm will simply fall away as the power of the Goddess is re-membered. We see clearly the nature of everything (is it love or is it fear?) and from now on, only love matters. Now, in the mid-2020's, our vision is sharper and less clouded. This is also a 9 year in numerology, potentially the end of a cycle and the prelude to the beginning of another one, so if we can possibly do it, let us focus only on love, only on living in harmony with the Goddess, only on the ways in which the emerging paradigm will be entirely different from this one. Let us look at the ashes as a blank slate for a different form of creativity. Not to react or "fight" goes against every old paradigm instinct that we have; but there is only one thing to do -- to simply "be" love. To fill out the mold of love. To re-form our personal selves to the shape of love. To vow to take part only in acts of love and beauty. I spoke of being thrilled the other day, and yes, overall I find this to be a time of thrilling, beautiful possibilities.

(I didn't know whether to call this "channelled" or not, but it certainly felt different writing it.) 

 

Fire

Yesterday early, when I wrote, I had not yet heard or seen the news of Los Angeles. Sometimes I must seem pretty clueless, but I don't spend much time online, and/or watching news reports. It wasn't until last night's old fashioned dinner hour TV network news that I saw the hellish, flame-filled pictures.

It's hard to know what to say. Of course this is only the beginning. When humans for thousands of years fail to take Nature's needs into account, the moment had to come where "She" would put the longterm survival of the planet itself ahead of human goals. We never asked Her, "Should we build here?" "Should we build with these materials?" "Is it wise for us to make this choice or that choice?" "Will the planet be resilient if we take this path?" Etc. These climate events aren't about payback. They are not aimed at certain people or situations, although there will be moments (like today) when catastrophes could seem to reflect a certain irony. But really, we don't have time to assess blame. All we have time to do is to say, every morning, "Great Mother, do what you need to do today to keep Earth viable for some forms of life." And at least inwardly, accept that major changes are coming.

The Capital District has had at least a week of extremely strong winds...not Santa Ana winds of nearly 100 mph -- perhaps half that. Still, the relentlessness of it is odd for this part of the world in winter, and here (unlike the Tug Hill Plateau) we've had very little snow. Even with temperatures in the teens, the ground is unusually dry. So this area isn't "safe" from climate change right now. We are all connected. Whether we live or die, or maintain housing or lose it, everything is happening to everyone.

I have seen a hawk or an eagle an average of once every other day recently, and someone also gave me a dramatic picture of a British "red kite". Now, I am dreaming hawks. One flew over my right shoulder and went and picked up a small white dog, finally dropping it because the dog was too heavy. I woke up as I was trying to find the dog's owner. There must be tons of dream interpretation meaning in this, but until I figure it out, I guess I'll just try to stay in the wonder of it all. 

Mary's Words

What I am being led to write about today (much earlier in the morning than I generally write) is a thought that I have tried to swat away like a fly, but it keeps coming back.

The centerpiece of every choral evensong service is the singing of two canticles, the "Magnificat" and the "Nunc Dimittis". The Magnificat presents the words of Mary, the mother of Jesus, from the gospel of Luke, when she visits with her older cousin Elizabeth, who is also pregnant -- with John the Baptist. This is one Bible story that I have always loved because the image of the two pregnant women embracing then chatting together is so poignant and yet so normal and real. No matter the future importance of their boys, at that moment they are simply pregnant women, uncomfortable, anxious, yet probably also filled with wonder. 

Mary's words as reported in Luke ("My soul doth magnify the Lord...") are sung every late afternoon all across the UK, in cathedrals, abbeys, school and college chapels, royal chapels, and churches. (The musical settings may differ, but the16th century text is the same.) They are sung (perhaps less regularly) in evensong services across the globe, and sung or said in countless other churches and monasteries of other denominations. So, for somewhere between five and seven minutes every evening, choirs worldwide are singing (or priests and congregations are intoning) the words of a woman. And through the long generations that women were excluded from these choirs, the men and boys were singing the words of a woman. Mary's words. 

This thrills me no end. 

Maybe I'll finally do it

Maybe I'll finally do it. "It" being, write four or five days a week rather than two. I've headed in that direction several times, but kept reverting backwards for some reason. I think in large part it was in order to spare my readers my intensity. But, hey, no one is being forced to read, and now that I will be sharing my channelled material with you, at least periodically, it is no longer necessary to split my journalling life between handwritten and typed. That may still happen from time to time, but not as often...

I am in the midst of reading an extraordinary book, Reinventing Eve, by Kim Chernin (1987, Perennial). Yet again, I'm humbled (even a little embarrassed) that there were fabulous women way ahead of me on this Goddess road...this is one of those books that expresses the spirit of my journey so perfectly, I cannot believe the author wasn't on my shoulder the whole time. Of course, her journey was unique to her...with completely different specifics. She has brought an insight to Eve that I literally never considered -- pride, almost, that Eve was disobedient. Eve thought for herself. She wanted knowledge and understanding, and literally just reached for it.

Reading it and the dozen or so other books from the '80's that have meant so much to me, it's almost impossible to imagine that during that decade, I had barely consciously begun my own path to myself, and was completely unaware of the rich material being generated by other women. I was living in New York City, working in the corporate world, studying illustration at Parsons School of Design at night (as well as singing in a choral group), paying back my college loans, and still trying like crazy to find a viable path through our modern construct. I had "given up" on the world of English church music, and hadn't yet recognized that it could be well nigh impossible to transfer one's passions willy-nilly, from music to studio art. Yes, I did some spiritual exploration (yoga, Buddhism, metaphysics) but never seriously considered aiming toward the north star of the Goddess. I had been immersed in journalism and academia; until well into the '90's I was uncomfortable that a focus on the divine feminine might be unfairly slanted against men. Intellectually, I still feel that way...but the imperative of trying to fill in the gaps in our spiritual world (and my heart) is much stronger. I've been silenced, other women have been silenced, and the Goddess continues to be silenced. I'm thankful for the tatty used books that keep coming my way, representing hope and the clear pure voice of love and wisdom.

 

Channelling 1

The following is what I hand wrote in my journal at around 6 this morning. Apart from a few crossings-out and real time additions, it is just as I penned it:

Today is the day that I share my "channelling" in my blog. I do it with a little continued hesitation, and yet with the world having begun to go completely crazy, perhaps it is the sanest thing I can do. Here it is, the first real work day of the new year, and I am sitting under the covers of a bed in yet another spare room, one whose owners I love and to whom I am very grateful. It is a situation that has helped me feel more grounding than perhaps I ever felt in Duluth, if the truth be known. My "groundedness" out near Lake Superior, and also up on Lake Champlain, was in a large body of water -- in, you might say, the womb of the Mother. The water was ever-moving, ever-changing. It matched my life, I guess! But by age 68, that stopped being a comfort. In these times, that watery restlessness stopped being a comfort.

So as I huddle here trying to keep warm (even in a well-insulated house, this winter's cold winds seem endless!) I'm back to square one. Why would I -- with a Goddess/England/English church music triumvirate of passions -- have not figured out a way to live my life in the logical place? I know I have mulled over this countless times...In the modern world, it seems like it could and should have been easy, or at least easier. Why am I still -- seven decades on -- still "perched" rather than rooted? Temporary rather than permanent? Ever waiting for Act One of my real play to begin? Goddess, Beryl, Guides, Great Mother, please help me.

Liz, dear one. First of all, please know that this cold morning, you are surrounded by countless warm, loving guides who are your "home" in the best possible sense. We know how scary and disheartening this entire lifetime has been, and how little it helps to be reminded of the agreements you made on the spiritual plane before your birth in 1956! The primary one was to intuit how the Goddess would operate in the world, and you discovered that this path is almost the polar opposite to the way the world currently works, inspired, as it is, by the masculine face of the divine. As you yourself have said a few times, there is no genuine "home" for the Goddess in this paradigm. Her home continues to be less a place than it is an energetic center in many thousands of women worldwide.

Perhaps under the surface of your question is the plea, "Please, please let 2025 be the year I go home!" And as ever dear one, we cannot tell you details about the future. But we will say this: a friend of yours once said a beautiful thing to you -- that she had never known anyone who loved anyone or anything as much as you love the Goddess, England and English church music. She's right. Your channel (!) to these three things is wide open. There is a direct line from the dot in your heart landscape where the three overlap to the dot on the physical soil where the three overlap. Picture those maps with a linear arc crossing the Atlantic! While it may not happen as magically as clicking your heels like Dorothy, remember that all the blockages were manmade (literally), and be open to aligning more fully with home "the Goddess way", starting in 2025!

At Peace

I start this new year of 2025 strangely at peace -- with myself and the world, as it spins into a major reboot. 

I'm finally at peace with just about every aspect of who I am, after a lifetime of self-questioning. Even now, having moved back to the area I grew up in, I haven't yet found anyone who fully "gets" my things about England and English church music, or my particular way of being aligned with the Goddess. On a very basic level, I still haven't found my tribe or tribes, although I do have one slim lead as the new year gets started. And perhaps because of my age or the trajectory of my experience, I feel like I have crossed over to "the other side", where most days this no longer bothers me. I don't have to wait for "me" to be validated by anyone else's understanding or approval. If I ever had time for that, I don't now, as I near 70. I love who I have become.

And I'm as much at peace as one can be with the absolute insanity of the world. Perhaps this is because I can look at myself ever more honestly and recognize that I would be incapable of murder, much less mass murder or genocide. I would be incapable of creating or owning weapons, or of stealing from people, or of ownership of "property" on Mother Earth. I have no impulse for power over other people, animal beings or the Earth. Etc. The fact that other people feel comfortable with these activities is something I really don't believe I can control much less change, any more than others have been capable of changing me. It is not a perfect peace, but it is peace.

Lastly, I'm at peace with the increased amount of "channeling" I am likely to be presenting in this blog moving forward. I am at peace with whatever derision it may bring my way. It's probably the last major truth about myself that I will reveal here, and it is time. I've been channelling in my personal journal for over thirty years -- asking questions and receiving answers. From whom? Ultimately, I don't know, but I'm ready to present the material that comes to me as a form of living in the questions.

So here's to a year of being "at peace", and trying to hold onto that no matter what happens! May you experience the same thing in 2025.