Too much

Nothing is coming as a huge surprise to me right now, even the fact that just about every single external aspect of life seems to be "too much". I mean, after the deep dive inwards a week ago, and then a somewhat quieter, more still, receptive week this week, it seems like absolutely every bit of the world's chatter is too loud, whether it is in the news or in the artistic, musical, or spiritual online venues that I usually find more appealing, more aligned with who I am. Perhaps this is par for the course for a mystic, the moment where everybody else's model falls away, and you are left simply with you. Not politics, not religion, not outer structures, not even potential future structures or models. Just exactly who you are personally, right now, right this minute. All else is entirely too much information. 

I am, however, thankful for a recent guided visualization that helped me to access an image of me at a table writing (longhand!), surrounded by a circle of loving human beings who can't wait to read what I have to say!!! I do long for a slightly less solitary writing experience, and yet I wish to keep writing, in fact, to write more than I do now. I have never run out of things to say! It is the one area of my life where I don't experience "too much"! So how and when I will find a way of being in that sort of community, perhaps only the Goddess knows. The image made me happy. It made me glow with joy. So that is a good thing.

A hot day on the horizon. Stay cool, folks, if you can!

A Big Aha

I had a big "aha" this morning, not surprising given that I dug so deep last week, and then Sunday was a powerful full moon with its clarity and light. This was to be a week of letting realizations simply come to me, and come they have!

This morning, I was listening to the Albinoni Adagio in G minor on the radio. I was swamped by the longing I have felt for years and years to be utterly immersed in that kind of beauty, whether it be classical music, brilliant historical architecture, cathedrals, choral evensong services, major art museums, formal gardens...you name it. The aspects of our world which deep in my heart of hearts I find most beautiful, at times far more than natural vistas. I've mentioned before that there has always been a part of me living in London (or Paris, or Montreal...) within eyesight and hearing of exquisite examples of human creativity. But this has not been my real life, as you know. Whether I "chose" my experiences or they chose me, they were often 180 degrees opposite what I had hoped for. And this morning, I found myself for the first time absolutely furious with the Goddess. If I have been aligned with Her all along, why would She keep me so far from my preferences? (Yes, I know how much this sounds like a traditional lament to God!)

And then it hit me. As beautiful as these traditional (European) art forms are, it is unlikely that many of them were created to honor the Goddess. I cannot know this for sure, but certainly they were all formed within a certain context and set of beliefs that we are rapidly leaving now. Without fully understanding why at the time, I gravitated toward the experiences outside the milieu that would have completely enthralled and engaged me. The life I originally wanted would probably have left me in less harmony with self and the divine feminine. My main intention for this lifetime was undoubtedly alignment with the Goddess, and my actual experiences guaranteed that I would be in Her inner spiritual "place" by the time all our current shifts started. (I did some neat, more extensive, writing in my personal journal about this, which I may share soon. My backlog of things needing to be shared is beginning to get entirely too large. But I can only go so far today.)

I've had a good cry. My logical brain finally makes more sense of this whole journey, but, as ever, it may take some more time for my heart to catch up.  

The Next Day, the Next Week

As I guess most of you know, I've spent the last week or more delving even more deliberately "down and in" than usual. It was a response to feeling extraordinarily antsy, and yet not knowing where (externally) to go or what to do. So I made the decision to symbolically take the bus to stations within, and it has been a rich, intense journey. Yesterday was a rare and powerful full blue moon, and it was a rare and powerful day, as it turned out. The "station" I accessed was really, really hard, and for the moment, I don't quite know what to do with the realizations that came up, so -- as with some other material surfacing -- I am letting it percolate. (The consolation being that I am more consciously letting it percolate than in the past!)

Allowing a quiet "next day/next week" to be part of the process is an important model for the larger re-balancing the world needs right now. We are all so used to feeling the need to keep going and going and going with whatever we are involved with (even spirituality!), and yet Nature, with its seasons, its waxings and wanings, its ebbs and flows, its births and deaths, is a great, healthy, model. This week, I'm not planning to dig one inch deeper. I am feeling quite drained and exhausted, and -- appropriately! -- as if I've just been on an arduous trek! So the plan is to stay in more of a receptive mode, and catch up on sleep, and try to go with the proverbial flow. I know about the best laid plans (etc.etc.) but ideally I need time to weave some of this stuff into the fabric of my life and consciousness. 

In the Northeast, several more days of blessed coolness before summer sneaks back in...

 

Night Life

Today's post has nothing to do with the deep dive inwards that I have been doing this week, except to the degree that it is a result of a certain amount of looking back. 

These days, I am generally asleep by 9 or 9:30 PM. I will only go out in the evening to something that is a "hell yes" (usually a musical event). I was wondering if this is me becoming an old fuddy-duddy. But the fact is that, essentially, I've always been "early to bed, early to rise" in a boring kind of way, by most people's standards. Whether it was at Smith, or when I lived in DC, or my decade in New York City, my idea of a night out on the town was to take part in a choir rehearsal, or take an art or yoga class, or eat dinner out with a friend or go to an early movie. I mean, I never, ever, went to bars, or discos, or night clubs, or swank restaurants. I attended a rather formal dance at The Plaza once, but it was with relatives, not a date. The year I studied in England, I'd go with friends to a pub once or twice a week and have a cider or a glass of wine, but my memory is that last call was 10 or 10:30 pm. In places like Duluth and Helena, night life was usually me reading or watching TV for an hour after supper and going to sleep. 

Now, even today, if the opportunity presented itself to dress up and go out to dinner at an awesome restaurant and have a really top-notch gin and tonic, I would -- and I would do anything in my power to stay awake past nine! But that hasn't been my life most of the time, and clearly if that kind of entertainment had been a priority for me, I would have lived a very different life.

Last night, I chose not to attend something that wasn't quite in my wheelhouse, so I stayed at the house and read an old Ellis Peters Brother Cadfael mystery. Yup. England, monasticism, medieval life, and the option of throwing a bookmark onto any page and take it up again tomorrow. When you are a contemplative nun at heart, that is "night life". That is your "wheelhouse". In the old days, I subtly judged myself for being so dull. What is lovely now is my ability to fully accept and love myself exactly as I am...

Today's "Station"

Over the course of seven decades, it has been, of course, impossible not to engage with the news of the world. The first major letter I ever wrote, at seven or eight years old, was to President Johnson, begging him to stop the nuclear arms race. In school and at the bachelor's and master's level, I studied many aspects of history (most of which involved wars and violence at least to some extent), and of course at Time, my daily focus as a letters correspondent was the news of the world. I've been privileged to be mostly an observer of these kinds of events, and to have the luxury of considering them from an intellectual, spiritual, ethical, even feminist standpoint. More recently, as my heart has opened up, it has become easier to feel the subtler violence I have experienced, and what it would be like to be at the receiving end of it more directly. I have felt grief that I think I had previously buried.

I hadn't planned necessarily to write again until next week, but something new happened to me yesterday as I was listening to a news report on the radio. I reached a new inner bus station. I strained to actively imagine being the perpetrator of violence, whether in war or any other setting. I was trying to "feel" what it would be like to be a person forcing people out of their homes, or using a weapon, or attacking other people, animals, or the earth in any way, and I simply could not get there. If anything, attempting to experience the emotions that cause such violence took me further from understanding it. We are all told that this is the human condition, that all of us could act this way under certain circumstances, and perhaps some day I will be proven wrong. But I am a human being, and as far as I can tell, this is not "my condition". And more importantly, I do not believe it is the condition of (or a given in) the Age of Aquarius paradigm we are entering. Violence does not match this new energy in any way. It may seem fanciful to say, but I truly believe that in the near future, people who are about to act violently will find that their arms literally collapse, their weapons de-materialize. They may shout in frustration, but nothing will come out of their mouths. 

Zig-Zag

This has definitely been a zig-zag week. To use the metaphor from a few days ago, each day I take the "bus" down and in to another "station", and find some new layer of meaning, or pain, or enlightenment -- only to spin into a bit of a whirlwind before regaining a bit of composure. (In honor of my youngest brother, perhaps this "zig-zag" is actually like a sailboat tacking...) Each morning, I "buy" my ticket toward a destination a little further within. Interestingly, a possible future option has opened up that could be both liberating and limiting. So heading inwards did in fact bring the outside world to me, but not in a clear or unambiguous way. That is the kind of moment we are in! I am trying to keep calm, curious, and open. I understand enough about this upcoming era to know that most of us, right now, are in no position to predict exactly how it will unfold. We may feel its energies, and understand intellectually how utterly different it will be from the present, but at least speaking for myself, I cannot foresee the exact timeline, or what our outer physical world will look like in, say, a decade. And so I cannot visualize (creatively or not!) the path that will lead me to where I would be of best use to a world i cannot see. My left brain is floundering big time. I have to go purely on love and instinct.

I'm not speaking as directly and specifically as I would like about this inward journey, for which I apologize. Early next week (after that rare blue moon on Sunday) I will assess it all. I just wanted to check in. Also to express appreciation to the Goddess for the privilege of this journey. It has been so unique, and even when I'm scared, I treasure that!

Reawakening

I'll report regularly on my "bus trip" down and in (!) this pivotal week. I mean, even if I had never watched any astrological videos, I could tell that big things are currently happening just from what my body is telling me.

So, yesterday was sort of a classic "Liz" day from the standpoint of experiencing an early high point, and then the bottom dropping out. I have to believe that this kind of thing may be why, for many people, a life rich in mysticism is hard to sustain.

Early in the morning, I wrote the following in my personal handwritten journal (I love this short piece for many reasons, not the least of which is that it shows that, deep down, I am following my path on behalf of all women. Even I worry that this isn't the case, sometimes...) (With the exception of deleting two repetitive words, I'm presenting this as written.)

I am imagining -- not just me -- but every woman alive, reawakening from the inside out. Becoming her inner Queen, be it of the place she loves, or the people she loves, or animals, or stars...some facet of this world. Every ache within her is a growing pain as the trauma or invisibility or pain deep in her bones turns over, awakens from hibernation. Every iota of fatigue, of numbness, of listlessness, is flipping over into life. Even women who somehow managed to thrive or lead or "play the game" are sensing a big energy shift where they are losing interest in what worked in the past, and they are waking up and looking at the stars and realizing, there's a bigger, more beautiful world out there that we women are intricately connected with (and intimately!) and we don't really have to do anything except let our cells flip over and let Gaia's cells flip over -- and watch what happens!!!

I love this, and am very excited by it. Not that it's saying something new, really, but I love how I am increasingly channelling material like this quickly and spontaneously (usually in handwritten form). It's hard for me not to edit and proofread, and work it over (which it probably needs) but for the moment, it is what it is. Of course, what happened a little while later in the day was a deep, dark, dive. Inner critics, imagined outer critics, and that energy that always seems to swing me like a pendulum took me to a really hard place. How dare I? How dare I express what is coming from my deepest place? That's always what it boils down to.

Late in the day and early this morning, I was pondering power, and the difficulty of defining what that power looks like for me (and perhaps other women) as we leave the old paradigm's "power over" focus. That may have to be another post for another day, but for today, power is defined by me daring to express what I find in my deepest place. Yes, I dare. And we'll see what deeper inner destination the bus takes me to today!