It seems appropriate on a frigid day like today to speak of warmth, both the physical sensation of being not-cold, and the personal quality of friendliness. I am one of the fortunate Americans who is under a warm roof this morning, many thousands in the south still being without power. Upstate New York (like my previous temporary homes in the northern tier of states) is used to cold winters, although Winter '25-'26 has been particularly brutal. But it will be unforgettable for generations to come in many normally-warmer states.
I think that when I added this to my list of Goddess words, I was referring to the human emotion of warmth, although it is possible that in a more Goddess-centered world, the earth might not experience its current extremes of cold and hot temperature. That's something we cannot know right now. But human warmth is something we have a bit more control over, or at least some of us do! I think the most shocking aspect of recent events has been to watch the deliberate cruelty towards other people, the complete and utter absence of warmth, empathy, or kindness. In the past, when I read about historical events characterized by this same brutality, I think even I lulled myself into thinking that humanity is slowly improving...that such vile treatment of other people surely must be going the way of the dinosaur. Now it is becoming clear that is not the case.
Looking at the religious tradition that I grew up in, I realize that there wasn't much in the way of warmth. Majesty, yes, drama, yes, a beautiful prayer book and musical tradition, and fine words about love and caring for others. (In the church context, I never felt held, embraced, cared for, or noticed in a motherly way, and in turn, in some areas of my own life, I have kept a rather cool interpersonal energy, I am sorry to say.) Even exhortations to care for the sick and feed the hungry came across as kind of "arm's length" -- in my church experience, after the Gospel reading was finished, I don't think we were literally expected to look struggling people in the eye, and to walk with them and hear their stories. And, of course, because of the underlying duality of the paradigm (good vs. evil), the energy I felt so often around the theology I was exposed to was militaristic and combative. I once did a collage using clippings from an old hymnal -- all of them about marching off to war, and victory over evil, etc. It was horrifying, the high percentage of hymns containing such expressions!
One of the things I keep reminding myself is that, even before these current horrors, our entire system was far from "warm". There may be nothing "colder" than a financial construct whose only consideration is how much profit you make. Forcing people to "earn a living" is cold. Competitive systems in health care, education, housing, and so many other areas of our world are cold. Many of us who couldn't navigate such coldness were encouraged even by the most well-meaning people to at least try to function -- "it is the only system we have, Liz." But there's the problem, we adapted and adapted and adapted to this chronic coldness, and can only see its deficiencies clearly as it reaches its final, crumbling stages.
I don't believe that a person can be warm and compassionate and still own or use weapons, but urging people to change may not work. We have entered the Age of Aquarius (and the return of the Goddess), and from this point forward, conflict will gradually, "simply", stop working. Human coldness -- as much as it seems to be spreading right now -- is on its last legs. This is a monumental shift, and it is happening as we speak. From now on, if we have the choice, acting from a place of compassion and warmth will always work better than pushback and fighting. Warmth toward others is a core value in the emerging paradigm. It will be there in the future, but the coldness won't be. We need to keep holding on to that truth if we can, like a warm cup of tea.
