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.

What's Next?

There are "suddenly" a lot of people saying some of the things I've been saying for years -- well, not so suddenly I'm sure. It's just that it took me a long time to find them. Anyway, we are all trying to make sense of the new era we are entering. Today seems like a good day to try to articulate a few of the qualities of this upcoming time, based as best I can on my own thinking. It will be harder and harder to remember when or how I was influenced by other thinkers, and, basically, it will not matter anymore anyway. All of us are being inspired by Spirit, by the Love at the core of it all, so all our egos are increasingly taking second chair. 

In one sentence, the Age of Aquarius will be a time characterized by Love. Love will be the only potent force in the universe. This process has started, as easy as it may be not to believe it. People, processes and institutions that have been based in conflict, hatred, and pain are scrambling...perhaps they know their time has come and gone. Yet all of us have to look honestly at all the underpinnings of our lives, and sense whether our foundations are built on all-Love, or on "Us vs. Them, Good vs. Evil, Right vs. Wrong, etc." Frankly, most of the personal or societal building blocks constructed in the old paradigm are likely to collapse, without any help from us. No fight is necessary here. It is Love filling every space currently empty of it. 

In a way, that's why I've lived the way I have. I knew I might eventually need to live without "modern medicine", so I tried to get my body used to it. I knew it might eventually be hard to be laden down with a lot of possessions, property or financial complications, so I stayed as uncomplicated as I could. I knew that what is currently considered "success" would be considered completely immaterial toward the end of my life, so I tried hard not to measure myself by that yardstick (although that may have been the hardest thing of all). I don't think we can prepare, per se, for the process we are about to go through, except to stay in the present and be grateful for whatever blessings we currently experience. It's probably a good idea, too, to stay aware that things may change utterly. If you have a home, or health care, or income, now, you may or may not have them down the line. You may or may not live in a landscape that looks familiar down the line, or even continue to be alive on this earth plane. Just remember that life itself never ends, and that all of us are eternal beings. There is no death on the divine plane, and some people who are alive now will "die", only to play important spiritual roles behind the scenes moving forward. For a period of time, we may be uncomfortably half-in and half-out of the new age, and every day will be a complex navigation of that reality.

Ultimately, this is a time to welcome -- for those of us capable of love, harmony, beauty, and respect for the earth, it is literally "the dawn of a new day". For those of us who honor the Great Mother, She is back. But others literally cannot stand the idea of such a world. There will be earthquakes of both the natural and human kind. If possible, embrace it all, even the chaos. It is happening, and it is real. It is a time of shocking beginnings and endings, a tearing of the fabric that held us in place, But that's the whole point. Our culture was like a big gauze bandage, trying to protect humanity's greatest wound -- duality. As the gauze tears away and the open sore is exposed to the air, it will be exceedingly painful for a while, but slowly but surely the wound will finally start to heal. We will not need the specific bandages that have been in place for so long.