Since Tuesday, I have seen or experienced several more signs, evidence that there is a faint Goddess path emerging across this empty hallway. A trail of breadcrumbs, perhaps?!!
On Tuesday, I had occasion to go to what in Britain is called a "charity shop". After finding a nice blue top (I'm trying to add a few more blue and turquoise items to my limited wardrobe), I went to the bookshelf. Almost immediately, two books leapt out to me: 365 Goddess by Patricia Telesco, and a book about a period of English history that I am particularly interested in. I mean, almost immediately, I realized that walking into this store was no accident, and finding these books was no accident. This was the oracle of the bookshelf at work, titles immediately drawing you in because they represent your passions. My eyes literally didn't -- couldn't -- see most of the other books. Then yesterday, I met two women who seem to share at least some of my interests, and while I don't know if I will ever see them again, at least I felt slightly validated, slightly more visible.
Looking out at the world from this area of the northeast is more painful than it tended to be in Duluth. Lake Superior's vastness always seemed to slightly dilute the news, to water down the world's horrors. I never quite lost that sense of being in Brigadoon, a civilization in the mist. Here, the centers of power are close. Not a stone's throw away, but close enough. Yet just as there were books on the bookshelf that my eyes literally didn't see, I find I cannot even "see"/comprehend the escalating war, the nastiness of the political scene, any form of violence or conflict. This is not about being Pollyanna, or refusing to see what is really happening. At least for me, it is more a case of these things not computing because my personal energy is too different. It's as if I have moved to a new post-duality country, and been here long enough that I barely speak my language-of-origin. I now live and dream in the new language, and the old one is -- ahem -- fading into the mist.
This morning, speaking of mists, a beautiful sight greeted me at 6 AM. The full moon was starting to set over nearby water, and through a veil of light fog, a bright path of reflected sparkles in the waves led directly up to the light. Another sign.
