Tree Magic

 

Two days ago, we had quite a thunderstorm, after which I went outside and watched and listened as nature got back up and running again. The trees were still "raining", and the birds were slowly starting to make a racket. The quality of the light was very ambiguous, and at a moment when the sun broke through the clouds, I snapped this photograph on my phone, which, I'm sure I've mentioned, is an at least five-year-old flip phone. I don't know how I got these effects of light in the trees, this brilliance. It was the same day that I wrote about brilliance, as it turns out!!! It is possible that there was a little water or greasiness on the lens. And I did utilize some very basic editing -- the image is cropped, and I used a color filter to make the leaves somewhat less bright green. 

Whatever the case, I'm thrilled by this picture, because it communicates what I realize more and more, which is that the trees around us are not only sentient, but actively wise, speaking amongst themselves and with us on all manner of topics. Indeed, this has probably always been the case not only with trees but all manner of flora and fauna, rocks, water, mosses, and the air itself. All of life. I'm not yet in a position to really communicate back (no long conversations!), but perhaps this picture is a start. Like, "I see your magic, and your beauty below the surface. I honor it, and honor the same within myself. May we start to communicate more and more."

Goddess Words 64: Brilliance

It seems fitting to end the month, under a full moon, with another Goddess word: Brilliance. 

Intense lightness, color, brightness. A high level of skill and intelligence. And, in the world of gems, the quality of reflectivity and sparkle.  My favorite definitions? Radiance, splendor, magnificence.

It is a hot day, due to get much hotter, so I may not have the energy to but scratch the sparkling surface of this word. I'm actually rather shocked that it took me this long to talk about "brilliance", but I guess this reflects how long it has taken to recognize the quality within myself. When I added this to my list back in the 2000's, I was looking outward, thinking more along the lines that the Goddess is brilliant -- bright, beautiful, reflective of all the light in all galaxies, the epitome of all beauty, creativity and clarity.

Were these qualities that I was expected to reflect in life? Basically, I'd say no. (This was probably true of most girls in the 1950's and 60's.) The only exception, arguably, was in the academic world. Because I was gifted intellectually, I was expected to get good grades, at least through college. But due to the expectations of the era and the strange patchwork of my other early influences, family, family friends, teachers -- all would have been horrified at the thought of a little girl from Schenectady heading out into the world and really being absolutely brilliant. Radiant, splendid, sparkling, visible and audible, "out there". Magnificent. And as we bright beings moved out into the world, there were very few traditional institutions that wanted to attract or foster genuine brilliance. Too many of us, no matter what our backgrounds, have had to hide our proverbial lights "under a bushel" just to limp along and survive.

I think it's a hallmark of this time that more and more people worldwide are aligning with their true inner brilliance and unique auras, which is bringing up Earth's own sparkling quality. The bright luminosity of all beings in creation is expanding too. To the right eyes, from space, what is visible isn't city lights, it is brilliance lights.

An Italics Moment

It is so interesting how serendipitously words, people, animals, and concepts show up in my life when I've just written a post, or had a certain conversation, or seen something in the news. The Universe sort of italicizes it by sending along a crossword puzzle clue, or a name in a book, or a passing bumper sticker.

Yesterday's italics moment was seeing a reference to embracing one's heritage. I realize that this is what I've tried to do, at least a little, in these last few posts which have been awkward and hard to write. It's particularly awkward when my heritage (and its, um, dominance in so many places) is arguably the reason why so many people worldwide have had to struggle, themselves, to accept and embrace where they come from. The process of unraveling my end of this ball of yarn will continue, although there is a caveat...

Which is, of course, that as we enter this new paradigm, all the old constructs are in the process of falling away. What was our "heritage" is a concept from history that will be far less meaningful going forward. What will matter is whether you are a being of love, not what country or background you are from. What will matter is whether your intention is to love and be as kind as possible to every single person you meet. What will matter is, when you stumble in that effort, that you look honestly at why it is hard to love in that situation, and see if you can heal your heart. 

Earth is in the process of a serious reconfiguration of Her physical body; at the same time, we humans are reconfiguring how we have defined ourselves. I guess today's bright full moon may be asking us to look squarely at what brought us this far (what has made us who we are) and to bow in gratitude to those factors. Once we do that, we can turn around and walk forward unencumbered by any of the negative baggage that history has heretofore asked us to carry. We will be known and appreciated solely for the quality of our love. Even the most conscious of us may not be ready for what an enormous change this will be!

Paradoxically...

Well, this continues to be a rich time, a liminal time. Traveling around the area the last few days has forced me to feel ever more nuanced impressions of the rough edges between me and my environment. Returning to "home territory" at about 70 was no accident...I see things from my child eyes, my adult eyes, and, arguably, the eyes of my higher self. Every day I am clearer and clearer about what layers of perspective were in place from the beginning, which ones were added like coats of paint over decades, and which ones may be emerging from a much higher perspective as I strip off the old paint. 

A question has amused me -- what if, when my great aunt gave me The Social Register, I had set about on a concerted effort to marry into that class? (Although she didn't quite say so, I suspect that was what she had hoped I would do.) It might have been possible, because I certainly have the ability to operate in that world, including doing polite chit-chat at cocktail parties. I might have lived a very, very privileged life, with a beautiful permanent home (UK or US), a workable marriage (if my husband had had some genuine interests -- other than money -- that overlapped with mine!), and perhaps successful children and beautiful grandchildren. I might even have had a more traditional career of my own, and/or volunteer work bringing me accolades. I might have stopped caring about whether or not I sang the music I love. I might never have focused on women's spirituality, or seen our current global moment through any eyes other than, "How can we keep this apple cart righted for the sake of my own family?" I might have been in a position to donate huge sums of money to my alma maters, and to other arts or social causes. I might have been genuinely respected, at least by a certain group of people. "What if?"

The hard part about my recent posts has been publicly acknowledging this "shadow" version of me, the self that I've been sweeping further and further under the rug every time I've lived in a contrasting situation, or traveled on public transportation, or shopped in a big box store. (Leave it to me to have a shadow self who is rich, privileged, and successful!!!) When that little voice within said, "This isn't my true place" or "These aren't my true people", I thought I was hearing the voice of a snobby little mini Dowager Countess of Grantham. The duality within me took on decidedly old paradigm form, a form I am actually as uncomfortable with as the me in thrift store clothes.

So now, it is dawning on me that the rough edges I've felt every day of my life stem from a much, much bigger perspective. Let's face it, I would eventually have felt like a fish out of water in a world of elites! It was never about where I fit on our world's current scale from deep poverty to "the top 1%". Or exactly which square foot of soil I happen to be standing on. It was never about which outward milieu would have felt most like home. Instead, it is about being true to my inner spiritual leadership. It is about who I have been for dozens of lifetimes, a specific facet of the Goddess. And until recently reaching the point of fully embracing that core heart identity, I have been rather stuck.

I know what I need to try to do over the next few weeks. I need to look at every moment, wherever I am, as a potential portal to serving the Goddess. This applies not only to my personal life, but also to the horrifying things in the news. (Some of these things are surely happening so that humanity will dig down into the rich soil of truth under the surface, and embrace new ways of being.) Expansiveness comes not from moving from one side of the "versus" screen to the other, but from embracing more and feeling life energy blooming out into all dimensions and unexpected directions. 

Paradoxically...looking more squarely and honestly at when and how "I don't feel at home" has helped me feel more at home within, and to sense that comfort expanding outward. I am thankful. I just saw my first dragonflies of the season: transformation, breaking down illusions, adaptation, inner magic. Blessings, all.

Thursday Thoughts

Back when I was a teenager attending private school in Albany, I used to take a school bus along part of what starts out as State Street in Schenectady and becomes Central Avenue in Albany. Even 55 years ago, this was for the most part a woebegone stretch of retail establishments, and my young, hypersensitive self found it a profoundly ugly urban/suburban stretch of road. Who knows, perhaps that is part of why I became fixated on getting to the English countryside. 

Yesterday, I took a city bus along the same route, and honestly, the impression that it leaves hasn't changed a bit in over half a century. Actually, it is shocking that some buildings are still there, if somewhat changed for the worse, including 1930's-era Roosevelt School that I attended from first through third grade. Putting aside how worn out/worn down a lot of the structures are, and how not visually beautiful, my obsession yesterday was imagining all the plastic being sold along the route (eventually to be discarded)...in big box stores, small convenience stores and gas stations, pharmacies, fast food restaurants, etc. OMG.

After last week's experience of recognizing some snobbishness on my part -- something that is still causing ripple effects -- I realize that I have changed a bit in six or seven days. Now, I feel a new measure of acceptance. I don't think I actively felt superior to my fellow bus riders or the landscape I was riding through. It was more a case of, I am where I am. All of it "is what it is". There were some hard moments (fights, etc.) but I did not find myself wishing I were elsewhere. I was a little bit better at centering myself and saying, "I am here. There is a reason I am here. Perhaps on some level I am a force for good."

Meanwhile, the kind of cool English summer I remember from writing up my master's thesis in July/August of 1981 is a thing of the past, and earth Herself is rumbling and feverish. Those of us in climes that are currently more temperate and bearable walk the tightrope between gratitude that we are "somewhere else" -- and the sure knowledge that at any moment, we could rumble or burn too. There's a certain calm that comes from simply letting Mother Earth do what she needs to do to regain balance. 

The Chains Holding Us Back

I work hard to edit out unnecessary words and phrases in these blog posts ("just", "a little bit", etc.) but today I'm going to start with one: "Needless to say".

Needless to say, the last two or three days have been pretty intense. I've had so many turning points over the years, that it may take time to gauge whether last week's moment on the city bus was my "road to Damascus" or just another ordinary step on the path. At the very least, I think I will look back and realize that facing perhaps my most embarrassing and shameful quality (snobbery) has released me from a painful, solitary prison. I may be one of the freest people I know, and yes, I am on a boat speeding down the lake, but there have been chains around my ankles holding me back.

On this Monday morning, am I totally transformed, in a state of bliss, feeling nothing but love? Um, no, not yet. But I have inched closer. I guess you could say that I am in a place of more complete acceptance -- that the world and the people in it are inevitably where they would have to be within the dualistic construct that has been in place for centuries. We haven't been able to help ending up at the top or the bottom, in a race to succeed, or in the constant fear of failure. We have all coped with this in different ways...but in this liminal moment, everything is changing. As we enter the Age of Aquarius, the energies of unity and love are becoming too strong to support stark duality anymore. 

I guess what was hitting me over the weekend is how very old paradigm my chains have been, these manacles keeping me tied to old traumas. I mean, remaining snobbish and condescending may have provided some slim thread of comfort at times, but it doesn't tie me one bit to things I want in my life now! Even if I could be magically transported to England to live in a stately home for the rest of my life -- near a cathedral, and perhaps to become the patron of its girls' choir -- would that be the happy ending of this Liz path? At the end of each day, would I sit in my drawing room, wearing a beautiful linen dress and pearls, sipping my gin and tonic, and say, "Finally, I'm playing the role I was meant to play"?

No! A hundred times no. Not only is it entirely too small of a role going forward, it is not a role that begins to reflect the world and values of the Goddess. As painful as it has been to be chronically outside the worlds I thought I wanted to be part of, clearly it was my unique way to prepare for the higher harmony era we are entering. It was the only way for me to become who I am meant to be now.

It is as if I've looked down at the chains and manacles around my ankles, only to realize that they are not locked shut. All I need to do is reach over, open them up, and step out of them. All the traumas, disappointments, limiting beliefs, even snobberies, can fall away, no longer to impede my freedom of movement. I may wish to continue to hold some qualities close to my chest (musicality, eagerness to learn more about the musical energies of the Universe, passion for the arts and beauty, a certain amount of dignity and strength), but the old historical details can fall away leaving me in a place of more love and acceptance. I feel slightly more at home with myself and the world than I did a few days ago, for which I am profoundly grateful. Life feels a little softer around the edges.

The Recovering Snob

Well, having stuck a pin in a particular balloon yesterday, as the air has been slowly escaping (as it were), I have been inundated by memories of when I've been snobbish, and, perhaps, its origins in my life. This doesn't seem to be a moment for sitting on anything and letting it fester, especially if it might speak to anyone else's condition, as the Quakers say.

I guess it should come as no surprise that most of my snobbishness stems from my twin passions for English church music and England itself. I've told the story of my joining the girls' choir at church, and realizing with a shock that I wouldn't be singing with the men and boys. I wouldn't be singing the repertoire that I had already started to love. Despite the fact that I pivoted as quickly as possible into "I'll be the best girl chorister that I can be" mode, and began piano and organ lessons, the fact is that being so firmly excluded from a world I felt so strongly called to be a part of was traumatic and (as is evident from my writing in this blog) I've never gotten over it. As a teenager, I wore my Royal School of Church Music medallion over my choir robe with a lot of pride, perhaps a little too much. Ditto my pride at being in the choir of Royal Holloway in 1980 -- I soaked up the experience like a sponge, and yet never afterwards had a place to "put" all the expertise in singing choral evensong and that specific genre of music. In recent years, when I have attended services at English cathedrals, I felt actively superior to most of the tourists in the stalls or pews around me. I knew when to stand, when to sit, when to say the confession, and the words of the hymns and canticles by heart, and it probably showed. I mean, it is one thing to adore the music and the environs and the glorious acoustics. It's quite another to feel superior to the people around you. My only consolation is that perhaps being blocked from doing your true work, and being (myself) condescended to at times in that world, has this kind of effect. I had a "ton" of knowledge, skill, and musicality within me, of which only perhaps a few pounds has made its way out over the years. Some of it came out, uh, inappropriately. 

Of course the larger England thing comes to me genetically, although early on I didn't really understand that. But from when I was about eight to fifteen, my family lived what could only be described as an upper crust WASP lifestyle. We had the big house, the oriental carpets, the bits of sterling silver, the summer cabin away from the city. I attended a private school, and slowly, the layers of assumptions that came with that privilege started to pile up. A relative passed on some genealogical material with our almost exclusively English heritage (some of it aristocratic), which I became fascinated with. And the original "Upstairs, Downstairs" started airing on TV in 1971, when I was in tenth grade. (I resonated most with Upstairs...) 

Ironically, that was the very moment when our family's fortunes were in the process of taking an extreme turn, in part because there had been no "fortune" in the first place! Soon after my high school graduation in 1973, we moved out of the swank house and up to the North Country, where my parents would live year-round in our cabin for the next dozen years or so. I would come home from college or my early jobs to find no food in the fridge, no gas in the car, and my dad asking to "borrow" money. Again, shock seemed to be the catalyst for snobbery. I held onto my supposedly upper crust roots like a life preserver. On and off, washing dishes at my Smith College house's dining room, or being the downstairs nanny in the home of a prominent family, or living at the YWCA in Helena, I would pinch myself and try to remind myself of my real roots, my real persona. I held onto -- as I still do -- a few small silver bowls, spoons, and picture frames. Now, finding certain things beautiful, preferable, or enjoyable is fine. If I could have simply said, these things are important and beautiful to me, it would have been fine. But to the extent that I have at times tried to make myself feel better about my ongoing situation by thinking that I am actually superior to other people, as I do on many occasions such as on the bus the other day, that is decidedly not OK. 

My dad's aunts were the epitome of snobbishness...think Maggie Smith in "Downton Abbey", minus the sense of humor! I was rather scared of them, to be honest. When I was in my thirties, I went to see one of them for the first time since childhood. I rang the doorbell, and my great aunt answered the door, looked me over, and exclaimed in a most imperious voice, "I must say, Elizabeth, you don't look like a Wilson!" (She would laugh if she would see me at 70, the spitting image of my father.) She spent the first half of the weekend making these kinds of cutting remarks, before I finally started standing up to her and showing a little moxie. By the end of the visit, I think she began to like me, and gave me two gifts which were telling -- and useless...a mink stole and a copy of The Social Register. 

Well, I guess that is all I can manage for today. Snobbery seems like a relatively minor thing by comparison with what we are seeing in the world today, but still, it isn't love. It's like the curving upper slope of something that can turn downhill fast, into rejection, outright discrimination, and hatred. And there are snobberies in a lot of areas of life...I am sure I haven't covered all of mine in this "confession", but it is a start. 

Another Big Aha

Well, they are coming thick and fast right now. Today may not be the right day for this, but I must do my best to bear regular witness to my experience of this path...

I was on a city bus yesterday to go to a smaller local city. A man got on, with seemingly everything he owned bagged up in a baby carriage. This kind of thing happens almost every time I take the bus, and sometimes it doesn't faze me. But sometimes it takes me to a very dark place indeed. It's like my own private "event horizon". For ten years or more, I've been circling the edge of a strong eddy, trying desperately to avoid being sucked in and disappearing completely. It's on the bus that I sometimes swirl closest to the void, which was what was happening in real time.

I'm at a place in my spiritual development where I literally cannot stand negative feelings for very long, so I gave myself a good inner talking-to. What was going on here? The very first layer to emerge was old-fashioned, unpleasant snobbery. My upbringing and education should have sent me in a different direction. What was I doing with "these people"? (Goddess, forgive me.) I felt, what?, distaste. Superiority. (Not hatred, I don't think.) Ugh...complex, old, extremely yucky emotions. It was painful to realize that despite this long personal spiritual journey, it wasn't yet natural to feel immediate compassion, solidarity, or love towards this fellow human being.

Suddenly, in a literal "aha", I remembered that in this duality construct, there are only two things, love and fear. And so no matter how this event manifested initially, deep down what I was feeling was fear, pure and simple. Not anger that no one should be forced to live that way, but the narcissistic fear that this man's plight might represent my future. 

Over the course of the bus ride, every possible related issue surfaced. Riding through a suburban/exurban wasteland, and looking out, I realized I was still feeling distaste. Nothing about the endless rollout of car dealerships, fast food places, hair salons, doughnut shops, and dying farms-about-to-be-razed appeared beautiful in my eyes, nor the small green lawns and parked RV's and boats. Middle class America is as psychically hard for me as the world of extreme poverty. And yet at my destination, I encountered any number of very well-off and "successful" people and was reminded that I don't belong with them either. I don't find their world particularly beautiful. I fear them, yet perhaps in a very different way than some of the folks on the bus. 

It was overwhelming to realize that, if I love so few aspects of this variegated manmade scene, then I must fear it. What is that all about? After all this enlightenment work, I am still torn with duality -- loving a small sliver of beautiful, mystical, and natural experiences and people, and profoundly uncomfortable with all the rest. How can I consider myself even remotely spiritual?

So it was a freaky day and, as it turned out, a violent one. For over an hour, there was a torrential rainstorm with extremely strong winds. Running around on errands, feeling quite dazed, I couldn't help but get soaking wet, despite sheltering for a while at the library. I was grateful to know that at least I would have a place to really dry off later in the day.

Shortly after getting on the return bus, it stopped at a corner, and who got on but the same man from the morning?! Still with his overflowing carriage. His situation hadn't changed in four or five hours. Had mine? The pendulum hadn't swung from fear to love that quickly. I didn't yet feel warmth or compassion. But I found myself in a softer place of "appreciation" -- he has found a way to just barely survive a system whose currency is money, not love. Ditto the people who build tacky one-story coffee shops, and potential customers for swank apartment buildings starting to be put up. We are all trying to survive. 

I haven't lost my personal fear of slipping over the event horizon. But by the end of the day, I was able to see the whole thing from a larger perspective. We are entering a new age where money will no longer dictate our station in life, where we will all love one another. We will outgrow the duality hell of judging each other's success or failure -- much less (on this Juneteenth) anything else about who we are. We will understand that we are all, literally, one. (Today, I feel quite ashamed of the snobbery that has beset me on and off over the years, but I think yesterday's "aha" served as a pin in the balloon, a bucket of water on the wicked witch.) Aha.

Quite a Day

From what I understand, this is quite a day, astrologically, for the energies of the divine feminine. To honor this, I am basically doing things that come naturally to me -- writing, laundry, clean-up chores, cooking...yesterday I transplanted some plants into bigger pots, and they literally doubled in size overnight! I get the feeling of being squeezed out when you don't have enough room...I couldn't stand to look at their constrained state one more minute. It's a joyous feeling to see them so immediately leaving "surviving" mode and heading into "thriving" mode.

In an interesting addendum to my last post, where I mentioned feeling so much love for animals, birds and trees (but not yet to insects!), yesterday I swear I saw at least five insects that I have never seen before in my life, or at least have no memory of seeing before. I mean, it is almost as if they sought me out, wandered into my orbit, either on foot or through the air. It was a little hard to say, "hi sweetheart" to them, but in the end, not impossible...at the very least, I was more aware of their essential beingness than I generally have been with bugs of any kind. It will be interesting to see how this all unfolds.

I've started a magic list for today, just to note anything absolutely wonderful or magical that I experience. I started with, "I am still alive", and added, "my plants doubled in size." I figure if nothing else happens, that about covers it all!

More Love

On this new moon week, and after days of definite wobbling (emotionally and energetically), I am committed to focusing on love, joy, and magic. By magic, I don't necessarily mean wave-a-wand magic (as fun as that might be!), but more, seeing and appreciating the extraordinary in nature and in life. There was a sunset about three nights ago that was about a twelve on a scale of 1-to-10...absolutely as if from another world. Magic.

I've touched on this once or twice before, but something became very clear to me this past weekend. I have started to think of birds and animals as my beloveds. When one crosses my path (on land or in the air) I often cannot help speaking aloud to it, calling it my "sweetheart". Some of them stick around for a few seconds afterwards, and some skitter or fly off as fast as can be. I knew I was capable of slightly more-than-ordinary depth of communication with people's pets and horses, but feeling almost the same about multiple wild chipmunks, squirrels, robins, wrens and raptors is a leap into what these days people seem to be calling "another timeline". And I'm feeling almost the same about trees. So far, not quite there with flowers, vegetables, weeds, grass, or insects such as mosquitos (the latter would be quite extraordinary, right?!) But for solitary old me, it is a new experience to feel waves of love going outward and, at least in some cases, being received and reciprocated. I can almost hear the word "sweetheart" coming back in my direction, on the wind.

There are only a handful of TV shows that I'm watching at the moment, one of which is "Astrid" on PBS. I am not entirely sure why the main character touches me so much, but she does. (My particular sensitivity is very different, but I resonate with her.) And I'll leave to others debates about its presentation of neurodivergence...but in a recent episode, there was an act of love that almost literally blew me away. A young man, knowing that Astrid loves the music of Bach but cannot tolerate attending crowded concert halls, arranges for the two of them to listen (alone) to a top violinist rehearse. Astrid has never heard music played live, and it is monumental for her. Putting aside the context of a budding romance, what was almost inconceivable to me was imagining someone, anyone, loving someone so much that they would find such a perfect, pierce-you-to-the-core, life-changing gift. It is astonishing that a person could see their beloved so clearly, and leap over so many hurdles, to make the perfect gift happen. Yes, it caused a big wobble, a big moment of feeling sorry for myself that I haven't experienced such love, a brief trip into the Void. But once I righted myself, I realized, this is my new bar. Finding the place inside where I can imagine not only being given a gift of this personal importance and magnitude, but also imagining giving such a gift in return -- not something I need or want, but what they need or want. 

Around the time of the new moon last night, we had a doozy of a thunderstorm, and today has dawned blissfully cool and almost fall-like. After a week of intense heat, it is -- yup -- almost magical...

Olio

Well, it is that kind of day. Very hot and humid. Due to get well into the 90's. I don't know what to write about, except I feel a responsibility to be a balancing energy. In the end, though, I think there may be enough calming, loving energy in enough hearts to provide that balance. It seems fairly old paradigm to feel the necessity to actually write.

So last evening, I saw two woodchucks chasing a bunny rabbit. I spoke about rabbits and fear the other week, and I suspect that this poor rabbit was super scared. The trio disappeared into the underbrush and I didn't hear any sounds that might have indicated that the chase was successful, but I may never know. It was a reminder, if one that was needed, that Nature is far from a peaceful place. And as extreme movements of the landscape become more common -- earthquakes, floods, fires, volcanos, tsunamis --  many of us may feel like the scurrying rabbit at times. Earth herself is undergoing such radical transformation, and is throwing off so many of Her own old restrictions, that we must expect the unexpected. However, violence in Nature may stem from the necessity for change, or fear or a survival instinct, but unlike human violence, it is never about hatred.

I've tried not to let all that hatred get to me, but it begins to seep in, doesn't it? I don't believe in trying to protect oneself -- it's just a case of trying to hold a strong, positive energy. This last week, I've been quite "wobbly". I think it is in part because of having come closer and closer to fully embracing my full wealth of gifts -- looking out at the world becomes increasingly surreal and painful. It is a literal wobble, an up-down wave between energy levels that I finally feel, after a lifetime of trying not to. In the past, I was more apt to try to match my energy to the world's, as unsuccessful as that effort was. Now I don't try!

Unlike last year, I have recently seen very few eagles or hawks, and I feel a bit bereft about it. From what I've read, it isn't an actual decline in population, just some seasonal ups and downs, but I long to see them. Perhaps today, I will experience that gift! Hang in there folks. Have a good weekend!

Goddess Words 63: Gifts

Back in February of last year, I presented one of my other Goddess words, "Gifting". I made the decision this morning not to go back and read that post, so there could well be a little overlap with that essay, or others such as my previous Goddess Word, "Money". But I thought it was best to come to this with as much of an open mind as possible on this very hot June morning.

Gifts. As usual, an enormous word, both a noun and a verb.  I assume that when I added it to the list, what I had in mind was the gifts of the Goddess to us, to all of life. Because all of life is a gift. The fact of being alive is a gift. The fact that we breathe is a gift. The fact that we have access to Mother Earth's natural resources is a gift. The ability of Earth to sustain life is a gift. And although it may not always feel this way, each and every event in our life is a gift, a learning gift, an abundance gift, an opportunity for growth. 

From that standpoint if from no other, I've always found our economic system to be strange. To do anything in life from any other place than "gifting" seems strange to me. I've never understood the exchange of money, but of course that is evident in my. life! I suspect that by some point in the future, gifting will be the norm, but of course it isn't yet.

I don't do the following often enough in my personal journal -- but I'll do it right here as an example of embracing the gifts coming our way in life. Today, I am thankful for many gifts, and I'll list a few of them here. There's been a recent development that may give me more living stability going forward, so I'm very thankful for this. The other day, I was feeling extremely lonely, which is unusual for me. But I just could not think of one person exactly on my wavelength to connect with. I went outside, and realized that the trees surrounding me felt friendly! I could almost feel their blessings and gifts (including shade) coming my way. I am thankful for online access to many wise and beautiful people who are exploring this new age we are entering. I am thankful for the cornucopia of flowers and vegetables blooming right now, and how healthily some of us are in a position to eat on a day-to-day basis. 

Despite what I said above, I am thankful for many beautiful friends, and the people who have entered my life at just the right moment (sometimes to leave again soon after!) I am thankful for a long life of adventures and travel, singing and art. I am thankful for this blog and the regular opportunity to write. I am thankful for the gifts and talents that have enriched my life. I am thankful for animals, the chipmunks on the driveway and the hummingbird at the flowerpot. 

All of these are gifts, the kinds of gifts that may come to us almost every minute of every day. The Goddess doesn't ask us to place money in the hat. She doesn't want to know if we are worthy -- every being is worthy simply by virtue of being alive. And similarly, we can choose to gift others in a host of situations without expecting payment in return, without expecting the recipient to be "worthy". In other words, we can choose to act like the Goddess -- if we wish.

There are many things happening out there which superficially don't seem like "gifts". But they are gifts, teaching moments, learning prompts. If nothing else, we are being reminded of what we don't want, and sometimes that is a gift!

I know many people who are uncomfortable either giving or receiving gifts...at the moment, perhaps seeing our entire life from a gifting perspective might be hard for some of us. Maybe today, focusing on one gift will be enough. The blue sky above me is a gift. It is a beautiful color. Thank you, Goddess.

A different perspective

Today, I know I am circling around some of the ground I've been on recently, but from a different perspective. I remember, literally half-a-lifetime ago (35 years) sitting on a mattress on the floor of my new apartment in Duluth. I could see Lake Superior out the window, and was trying to make sense of an enormous change in my life. I had left New York City, and decided that I couldn't return to England since the men-and-boys' choir tradition still appeared to be in full force. (Unbeknownst to me, at about that very moment, Salisbury Cathedral was in the process of creating the first girls' cathedral choir in England! It is remotely possible that had I known about this and headed to Salisbury to become involved in this venture, everything might have turned out differently. My University of London MMus might have provided an entree...I'll never know!) 

Through a long, circuitous car journey, I had chosen Duluth for an experience of becoming more American, more directly spiritual, and perhaps more grounded. I had already been journaling in a conversational way, perhaps one might say "channelling", drawing on inner wisdom in trying to make decisions. But that particular morning, I must have accessed a huge well of pain and frustration about having significant gifts in a variety of areas -- particularly writing, art and music. I remember bursting into tears and sobbing almost uncontrollably, railing at God about why he hadn't just given me only one of these gifts. I mean, if I had just been one thing, I could easily have focused and not been drawn away by other talents. (My life had already been like a three-way tennis match, art-music-writing-music-art-music-writing...etc.) I had left the one iota of security I had ever experienced, in the corporate world, and here I was out in the wilderness, hoping to use these gifts in some meaningful way, and yet knowing in my heart of hearts that I didn't have the singleness of purpose in any one of these areas to create a career or substantial income. To put it mildly, I was scared to death. And in the subsequent half-a-lifetime, the tennis match has continued. Even now, having focused more exclusively on writing this blog and largely having given up any lingering hopes of fashioning a life devoted to cathedral music or painting, those two talent areas remain live wires, I guess you could say. No matter how often I visualize them flying off into the wake of my boat (!) I find they are still in my heart. They are still at my core.

This past weekend, thanks to some material I listened to online, it finally, finally hit me. These gifts are not (and never were) separate entities. They have been ways of accessing the beauty, harmony, love, and wisdom of the Goddess...separate "paths", perhaps, but one destination that arguably I "reached" early in life and was trying to express. The "gift" isn't being a writer or painter or singer or organist, it is having the capacity to access a high level of spiritual beauty. The gift is having the capacity to easily align with the Aquarian values that are now emerging in our world. (Since I am an Aquarian, I guess it makes sense, right?) Truly, I don't think that I fully understood this until this very moment. 

I don't know quite what to do with this different perspective except to let it settle in and take hold. It helps me understand why this lifetime has been what it has been, but what that will mean for my life moving forward in any practical sense, I don't know. I'll just have to let the insights keep surfacing.

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!

 

The Inner Landscape

About 18 months ago, when I made the decision to return to this part of the east coast, I did it, in part, because it represents possibilities. Duluth, which I still love and miss in many, many ways, is almost literally the "end of the road". It is at the north end of Interstate 35. It is also at the western end of the Great Lakes and that key shipping route. Whenever I see Duluth's Aerial Lift Bridge, I feel I have come home, and there is a strong pull to nest there forever. But in 2024, I realized that because of my income, I might end up living well out of town with no car, on one of the very minor city bus routes. I suffer from a form of claustrophobia in that regard, a fear of being trapped, and somehow instinctively I knew that this wasn't a great "energy" for me at age 70.

New York's Capital District is the opposite to this in so many ways. It is the hub in a wheel of highways heading south to New York City, east to Boston, north to the Adirondacks and Montreal, west to Buffalo, Chicago and beyond, and southwest to Binghamton/Scranton. When you don't have a car, buses and trains make a lot of destinations doable. Even the area city bus takes you remarkably far. I have done some of this travel, when I have known exactly what I want to do.

And therein lies the problem. For several months, I have been about as antsy as it is possible to be, and I was sure that by now I would have moved on, found more permanent housing, or at the very least, set off on a temporary adventure. I cannot tell you how many times I have just wanted to leap up, stick a pin in a map, buy a train ticket, and head off with only one roller bag. Yet with the exception of England, my old destinations do not call me -- and England no longer calls me in the same way. I don't feel particularly curious about new places either. It's like I have travelled over an event horizon into a dense black hole. This hole isn't scary, really, and from what astrologers are saying about this time period, what I am experiencing may be about the huge transformations happening in the stars. I may be on some kind of spiritual elevator, and need to be patient until the bell rings and the doors open. Whatever the metaphor, my instinct to go out and explore the outer landscape is being completely neutralized at the moment.

Which leaves the inner landscape. Now, I'm the kind of person who will never balk at introspection (as you have no doubt noticed!), but I think what I am being asked to do this last week of May is some deep digging the likes of which even I have never seen before. The word "power" keeps coming to me...this is not about the power to travel to see some new part of the world, or to see wonders created by powerful people, or about the power of the modes of transportation themselves. This is not about seeing new destinations outside of myself, and having the power to experience them. This is about the power within me. This is about peeling off yet more layers, and finding the power plant at my core, the passionate landscape within me, because the energy of that landscape will magnetize my new experiences. 

Various teachers are suggesting that all of us figure out what new skills or directions we wish to follow at this pivotal time. I see it not so much about taking on something new, but rather uncovering the power of what I already am. Even here in this blog, I'd like to to open up my connectedness to the Goddess, and speak ever more clearly and more forcefully. To be, at times, less tactful and more courageous. To remove blocks to my leadership ability, and be more willing to validate my own preferences. To truly, fully, embrace beauty, love, and this new age we are entering. Today, may I buy a bus ticket as far into my inner landscape as I can manage, just to see what I find!

Housing Solutions

We're hearing a lot about finding solutions for "the housing problem". One of the ones I hear the most is, to build more housing, affordable and otherwise.

Oh, brother. The hardest part about becoming so Goddess-centered (and also so Gaia-centered) is reaching the point where I simply can see no solutions to society's problems within the mindset that created our current paradigm. The issue of housing seems to illustrate this so poignantly. 

From a Gaia standpoint, this is what building tons of new housing does: it further degrades earth's landscape, and uses increasing amounts of toxins, plastics, and diminishing resources (water, wood, metals). It further spreads out neighborhoods, requiring more cars, more use of petroleum, more reliance on energy. It underscores the notion that individuals and small families need separate houses, separate spaces -- and the larger and fancier, the better. That all of us need to then furnish our spaces with more and more consumer items, more high-tech gadgetry, more "things" of all kinds. Solving the housing problem this way causes infinitely more problems for Mother Earth.

And speaking for myself, I do not wish to find a solution to my housing problem. My challenge has always been finding a home, a place where I (with my very specific passions of English church music and women's spirituality) would be completely welcome, no matter how much money I do or do not have. Finding a place where people speak one or both of my languages, so I feel like I am in my element. (How privileged I am to even be able to consider such factors!) And I don't think we can even envision exactly what housing will look like, say, 25 years from now. Because of environmental, spiritual, and societal changes, we will be living so utterly differently that -- at the very least -- pouring money into contemporary living solutions that may be going extinct within a decade is counterproductive. Goddess communities will be built on love and deep belonging. They will be predicated on taking into account the needs of the earth before one shovelful of dirt is moved. Honoring the earth and one another, wanting people to find places where they will be loved and accepted, finding ways to live healthily and lightly on the earth, gradually phasing out all concepts of money and profit -- that is ultimately the only way to find longterm human (and humane) housing solutions.

Bringing Stories out into the Light

Several times in recent months, I have heard or seen the quote from the Gnostic Gospel of Thomas to the effect that if you bring out the treasure that is within you, it will save you, but if you do not, you will be destroyed. Actually, when I first read this years ago, it sent rather a frisson through me, although at that time, I wasn't sure why. Even then, I didn't like the dualism of the thinking or its expression, of course! Like there are two lanes of this life highway, and either we are going to experience salvation or damnation. And there is a certain fear-mongering in, in effect, threatening people to "get with it" and find their true treasure before it is too late. Ugh.

So I guess the first thing to do is really, really analyze the statement and express it from a more Goddess perspective. I agree that we all have, deep within us, a key gift or insight, or perhaps an action that we were meant to do in this lifetime. Some spiritual gem of truth that -- if we can find it -- only we have the ideal capacity to articulate or act on. If I had a young person in my life, I might definitely suggest that their main purpose, early on, be to find this treasure, and uncover it. And then if they came to me a few years later and said, gosh, I've discovered what my true gift is, but I'm kind of freaked out about acting on it, I'd want to sit down with them for a few deep conversations about what is blocking them. 

More often than not, I suspect it would be fear -- the fear of feeling strange, the fear of being attacked for an unconventional view or condition, the fear of criticism or failure. And yet the answer to that fear isn't to mirror back the fear, and force people to give birth to their treasure "or else"! In a more Goddess-centered construct, the person would be gently walked through a process of facing their fears, envisioning possible scenarios if they bring out the best that is within them, and finding a way to commit 100 percent to their inner worth. An advisor would try to help them get to a place where they were ready to shine.

However imperfectly presented, this teaching did affect me deeply. I've known for years that there was something deep within me that had to be brought out into the light. I knew that I was fearful of my own power, and perhaps by continuing to sweep it under the rug, I was burying myself down there too, in effect "destroying" myself, continuing a cycle of homelessness and invisibility. In this blog, I've tried, post after post, to dig further and further down and in.

Several posts ago, I referred to the fact that I have three hand-written stories that I've been sitting on, kind of stuck. And then the other day, I wrote about my three rabbits, which might represent my three greatest fears. I did some journaling about those rabbits, describing and analyzing three general fears I have and even making a color drawing of them! And yet it wasn't until this very moment that I realized -- my three greatest fears are the three stories, and the prospect of bringing them out into light! One of them, particularly, scares the heck out of me with its potential power. 

That's about as far as I can go with this today. But it just goes to show that the realizations are coming faster and faster...

Two Rabbits. Make that three...

This morning, when I went outside to start my walk, there were two rabbits in the driveway. They were standing stock-still, facing each other. I have rarely, if ever, seen two rabbits at a time, and I tried to speak with them softly and comfortingly, sort of, "Hi sweethearts, don't be scared. I am a friend." And as long as I continued to be still, they didn't move. But the minute I started to walk out toward the road, they bolted. A little while later in a different spot, I saw another one!

I still keep several "bibles" by my bed, one of which is the classic 1988 Medicine Cards book, by Jamie Sams and David Carson. The powers and medicines of 44 birds and animals are beautifully and succinctly described...when I purchased the book and cards in 1990, I used them in a loosely divinatory manner, but these days I basically just consult the book when I have an encounter with an animal or bird. Here, Rabbit's medicine is "fear", or a tendency to call one's fears to oneself. Seeing those rabbits run this morning was a reminder -- you could see them shaking, terrified, even though I had tried to reassure them. There are a number of other spiritual meanings for bunnies, from intuition to renewal. But being given the opportunity to address fear -- to see where it is working in my life -- always seems to be rabbit's message for me.

Where is fear showing up in my life today? I mean, there are so many fearful, out-of-control things happening in the world that if I felt fully engaged with them (and the need for human solutions to them all), I would be almost catatonic. I may be saved from that by the fact that I've seen so much of this coming for so long, I would have felt even more fearful if they hadn't happened! Still, I know my own personal life is on the verge of changing again, and no matter how often it happens, I never really face it calmly. By now I should, but I don't (!) This time, though, there is an energetic difference. I know that we are shifting into the all-love Age of Aquarius, that the divine feminine is re-emerging, and that increasingly, after a lifetime of being out of my element, I'm going to be in my element. I know and believe that without a shadow of a doubt. 

Nevertheless, it is important to face the fears. It's sometimes so tempting to slide through them, or talk myself out of them. But three rabbits appeared, so in my personal journaling I'll address the three biggest fears that come up. Write about them, talk with them, embrace them, maybe even draw them. Try not to run away...

Goddess Words 62: Money

Talk about Goddess list words that I have been avoiding! When I glanced at my chart this morning, one word popped out: Money. For four years, I have been putting it off and putting it off in the context of this list (although I have certainly spoken of it frequently in other posts) so today seems to be the day. Just for the record, I have not gone back to look at past essays, so I suspect I may repeat some of the things I have said before. My apologies to regular readers.

And I guess I should also tell you that I came "this close" to removing "Money" from my Goddess list entirely, as I recently did with "Worshipped". This is because nowadays, I don't think that money will exist in any form in a future Goddess- or Love-centered paradigm. Even twenty years ago, I'm pretty sure I was already at that "place", so I am not quite sure what I was thinking -- perhaps I still saw money as a way of expressing the potential for bounty. Perhaps I was hoping I would still find some way to earn or attract a good income...I'm not sure. Today, I think we have a few years left with money systems in place. It might be premature to completely discount it as a building block to the new paradigm. Might.

Almost thirty years ago, I attended kind of a free-for-all workshop where attendees could offer talking circles on any topic they wanted. It still stuns me that I had the courage to do this, but I did: I called my circle something like "The Future of Money"-- and a bunch of people showed up. Basically, I spoke for about ten minutes about how I thought money's future was limited, and my reasons why -- and what ensued was a completely fascinating discussion! I mean, right down my alley, non-"partisan" and visionary, people trying to imagine a world entirely without money. 

Because, apart from any other issues I've had with our specific financial system, here is my core problem: not understanding why something that (in my view) really doesn't exist is so central to our world view, our politics, and virtually every aspect of human life. Every definition is essentially the same, that money is a medium of exchange. It's a ghostly ether between two tangible things or beings.

There's me. There's a dozen eggs. If I want those eggs, I need to pay money. I need to exchange some dollars for eggs. Yet I've never really "gotten" this. Why even have this strange, insubstantial middle ground? I mean, all right. It's part of the old ownership paradigm. The farmer's eggs belong to him or her, and in our current construct, giving the eggs away will lessen that person's personal worth. So if I (the buyer) do not have some other object or service to offer the farmer that is the rough equivalent of a dozen eggs, something that the farmer needs, say, a skein of wool or a small toy, then I need to use the common currency.

Let's back up to the moment before the very first use of money in the modern sense -- no matter how many thousands of years ago that might have been -- and imagine a completely clean slate. There is no sense of human ownership of land, animals, plants, or other people. Let us say it is commonly accepted that such ownership is impossible, as is human ownership of Gaia or The Goddess. Everyone and everything is of equal value as part of Her, a reflection of Her. If everything is done from a place of Love, and that Love is all-existent and all-replenishing, then nothing I give away will leave me diminished. There needs to be no medium of exchange, monetary or otherwise. If everything on this planet is an expression of Love, my actions are done lovingly and freely. Love draws to all of us a modest roof over our heads, and meal on the table. Love draws to humanity the best that the earth has to offer, for free. But individuals in the new paradigm don't seek to take too much for themselves. People in the new paradigm are far more community oriented than now.

In a sense, this lifetime has been a practice run for me and the new paradigm, whether or not I ever "live to see the day". I am living proof (and I am sure there are others like me!): you can survive with little money, occasionally even thrive, although you may be seen as using people or being a bloody idiot. And I couldn't have let this experiment go on for so long if I had been responsible for children. I am thankful that I remained relatively free, and that I gained at least the feeling place of what will be the norm not too long from now: Love as "currency". The construct of "earning a living" has gone by the wayside. Ownership has gone by the wayside. "Money" -- in whatever form or system -- will be in museums, if we even have those in the future! For the moment, I'll leave it on the list, but not for long!

Middle of the Night

Recently, the middle of the night seems to be the time when I am able to access a place of bliss, love, connectedness with joy, and belonging to the great, deep scheme of things, (In the past, it could be the opposite, feeling completely adrift in the dark!) If I wake up and I find myself happy, then I stretch it out absolutely as long as possible, as tempting as it might be to fall back asleep!  Back on April 18 ("Too Big for the Small Boxes"), I spoke of having been in a blissful state for an hour. Two nights ago, not to become competitive with myself!, I stayed at a pretty high energy for over two hours, literally, again, smiling from ear-to-ear. I don't try to do or create anything, although sometimes I do a crossword puzzle simply to keep my left brain occupied.

Actually, it has seemed important not to create or plan in this state. In previous years, a positive state of mind seemed like a good time to try all that marvelous "creative visualization" I was reading about. I would envision a beautiful house (who wouldn't when you've never had a permanent home?), a nice car, a job that would both engage and pay me well. I visualized getting to the UK permanently, attracting acclaim as a Howells expert, even marrying and having children or stepchildren. I was singularly unsuccessful at these visualizations. It is a good thing that I didn't spend much money on gurus or courses, because I would have had to go back over and over again! I now get it that the problem wasn't that I wasn't visualizing or focusing properly, or even that I wasn't coming at the visualization from a high enough energy. My theory now is that these goals were too old paradigm for me, energetically representing a system that is currently passing away. They were the manifestations of a now-crumbling foundation. My energy at its highest was not resonating with the energies of these goals.

Even if I wanted to use these current middle of the night moments to create, it's complicated by not really knowing what a 5D, love-based world will look like, function like, or feel like in its solidity. Perhaps it is a good thing that I don't know, that we don't know. It forces us to lead from the heart, not follow our brains to as many external goals. If I say anything in the middle of the night, it is to my heart: "Simply guide me." May the love spilling over be my path forward, my exhilarating boat ride down the river. May we feel which lights on shore are beckoning us, where the love shines brightest. 

Thank You, Mom

Another post that's coming as a surprise to me.  

Yesterday, I somehow managed to get beyond all my awkward feelings around Mother's Day, not being a mother, whether I have ever really felt mothered, and so forth, and found my attention being drawn to my mother simply as a person. I never got to know her well. I hear friends in long telephone conversations with their daughters or mothers, and find it amazing. Mom and I certainly became closer when I accompanied her through the last eighteen months or so of her life, but we were so, so different. I wrote about her back on February 6, 2016 ("My Mom"), and if some of today's stories have also appeared in subsequent posts I apologize. I need whatever part of her is surfacing today.

She was a spunky young girl, based on photos of her in a childhood spent just north of New York City. She had a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. She and her 10-to-12-year-old friends had a club, "The Naughty Eight", and they'd smoke cigarettes behind someone's garage. She refused to learn any of her mother's creative or cooking skills, and remained adamantly outside that circle all her life, except for a few tentative forays into watercolor painting. She was extremely smart, but not "intellectual" -- during World War II, she studied for two years at a junior college before eventually following her brother to Schenectady, where she worked briefly at Union College, then met and married my father.

Mom was full of contradictions. Spunky, yes. Organized. Potentially she could have been a leader or a modern-day career woman, yet her actual self-esteem could be abysmally low. With us, and apparently even in other settings later in life, she often apologized before giving her opinion ("This may be a stupid idea, but...") She claimed not to be a feminist, and was clearly uncomfortable with that language and terminology -- yet the day I scared off some Mormon missionaries by saying I was a "post-Christian feminist", she told me that if she had more time ahead of her, she'd be a post-Christian feminist too! She had always stood up for women in leadership positions in the church, and even all-but-ran a small church between rectors, and she briefly considered the Episcopal priesthood. But not long before she died, her original Catholicism came back, along with core fears and memories. Never mind, her memorial service reflected the best of the Anglican tradition, just as she had directed many months earlier.

She had had to very deeply bury all.her emotions when she married my dad, I think, and I (their eldest child) terrified her with my introspection, my creativity, my need to analyze. From early on, I was doing the kind of inner work that she couldn't bear. I think she was scared for me too -- she knew I would never skirt the surface of things, and that life would be hard for me to navigate. My brothers were just easier -- funnier, more successful, better at "playing the game".

There's so much more, but not today. However, with all my talk of my old life flying off the back of my boat into the frothy wake, what little nugget of my mom do I want to carry forward with me, close to my heart?

She had a wonderful, almost theatrical, speaking voice. She wasn't into holding, hugging, or touching (I come by this naturally, it seems!), but I have memories of her sitting on the bed with three-year-old me, almost cuddling, and reading A.A. Milne ("Christopher Robin had wheezles and sneezles, they bundled him into his bed...") and Dr. Seuss. These rhymes poured out of her like honey. Like music. No hesitation, no fear, a river of confident, beautiful sound that is still in my ears to this day. More than anything, this is what stays in my deepest center. Thank you, Mom. 

There is a Moment

I wasn't planning to write again this weekend, but here goes.

There is a moment where you finally get it -- that all the pushback you have received over the years is proof that you've been on the right track, not the wrong one! That all along, you were aligned with future realities that were in the process of forming...and of course, they seemed absurd in reference to the reality in front of us. Much easier for "thee and me" (as my mother used to say, and, no, she wasn't a Quaker) to be labelled as strange and weird and nonfunctional and ditsy, if not worse. I shouldn't have survived long enough to reach 70, but now that I have, I rejoice looking out at the world because it is so clear. So clear! Without the balancing spiritual, intellectual, and physical energies of the feminine being respected, humanity can only go down the tubes. This isn't an indictment of the masculine, just of complete imbalance going on for far too long.

I guess that is what I didn't grasp back when I was 15 or so, when we girls were suddenly being encouraged to dream, to find out what we wanted to do, to pursue careers. Forget about the fact that my preferred life was still completely closed to girls and women. I was too young to understand the overall history and institutional rigidity. Somehow I optimistically thought the gate had opened and the voices and perspectives of women would change the world overnight. Over the years, day after day, year after year, I just couldn't understand why this wasn't happening.

I am trying really hard not to push back against the pushback. (If you are serious about "Do unto others", how can you cause any conflict?) But I am aware that, just as the world has been speaking a language I don't understand, I speak a language the world doesn't understand. These languages are so completely unrelated that it may be necessary to release old hopes or expectations of a middle ground. As this rapid ascension process moves forward, there will probably be not only a third way, but a third language, which comes from the heart. I personally cannot quite grasp how that will work, but there is a moment when you know it will work, because it must.

Quite the Week

I don't have to tell you. This has been quite the week. And, strangely enough, I awoke this morning hearing these words in my head: "This is your day, Liz." Hmm...this isn't my birthday or any anniversary that I know of. I haven't heard or seen any news that might reflect significantly on my present or my future. Heck, a rainy weekend looms, and Sunday is Mother's Day, and I am not a mother! I have been writing every day this week, and I am not entirely sure how this experiment went. Next week, I will probably return to my usual two-to-three times a week. But I feel the weight of most of the world's women on my shoulders -- so many have no freedom to speak their truth at all, much less to write it. So however articulately or awkwardly, I plow ahead.

Perhaps connected with the above, another phrase came to me as I was out on my walk: "I know where I belong." This may not seem radical, but it is. In any given moment, I have rarely felt I was where I really belonged. Even now, if I use my logical brain to define such an ideal place or situation, I stumble. But something in my heart broke through this morning, reminding me how it would feel. My knowing is in my heart. That's a start. Maybe that's what is meant by "my day". And maybe Sunday will be the day of the Great Mother!

Try to stay grounded, all, amid the swirling cruelty and hatred out there. An old era is passing.This is our time, hard as it may be to believe most mornings!

Looking Without

Interesting. I'm glad for my archaic old dictionary, which has my intended "without" definition first -- without, as in "outside". Interesting, too, that the only other time I used this phrase was in April of last year ("Oracles") when I spoke of all the different ways (outside of me and within) I was accessing spiritual information.

Since then, I have moved to where I don't seem to be engaging too well at all with the "outside world", even as it pertains to some of the wise folks online who have saved my sanity over the last few years. How fortunate I've been to discover people as new paradigm as I am, as aligned with (and curious about) the Age of Aquarius! But unlike some of them, I don't seem to be interested in galactic energies, or archangels, or light codes, or crystals, or even (now) oracle cards. These colorful "patches" are definitely an integral part of the new age quilt we are all sewing, and the right paths for some. But right now, they are too much for me...too extraneous, too distracting, too "other". It is all I can do to align with myself. I continue to be somewhat haunted by the fact that I come from such a narcissistic background, but I get a bit of a chuckle out of it too. I suppose it comes in handy in terms of looking within -- who does it better?!

It's like, me, my writing, and the Goddess. That's all, right now.

There's a surprisingly cold wind here in the northeast. The sun is high in the sky, but it is crisp and cool, almost fall-like. I'll take these conditions over 100 degree temperatures any day. The first lilacs are coming out. I'm trying to stay as grounded as possible in nature. Trying to notice and celebrate Mother Earth's fidelity to her process, and be inspired to stay faithful to mine.

Two Rainbows

Yesterday's most remarkable event was the fact that the day started with a rainbow, and ended with one as well. The early morning one came almost immediately after a rather strange 6AM sunrise, orange in color (not red). The heavens opened, and yet the low-hanging sun remained clear of clouds, leading to a rather faint rainbow to the southwest, amidst the raindrops. And the reverse situation happened about an hour before sunset, this time producing a much sharper rainbow with two visible "ends". It's always exciting, even at my age, to see the end of the rainbow!

I look back this morning, wondering what this particular portal signified, and I'm not sure. I wrote a blog post yesterday (for those of you keeping up with this temporary daily schedule, thanks!), agonized a bit about my future (very old paradigm!) and then saw the movie "The Devil Wears Prada 2". It, too, was very old paradigm, at least for me. Not only were there scenes near the old Time and Life Building on 6th Avenue, where I worked in the '80's, but I found the characters' pursuit of wealth and power actively off-putting (where in the past I might just have found it mystifying). It's hard for me to deal with scheming and manipulation, and overall, I couldn't find it funny or interesting. When Meryl Streep's character says words to the effect that she loves her work, I'm glad for her, but I know that I never would have loved a career like that. And that is OK. It's all so glamorous and so fragile. I still grapple with shame at not having "succeeded" in a small or big way, but at this point I have very few regrets. Ah well, the film provided a few moments of humor, and a short vacation to the Big Apple and Milan!

Today will be rainy, morning to night. Probably not one peek of rainbow-creating sunshine, so I'll have to find the light within. Blessings, friends.  

A Purer Form

I am thinking and writing about so much right now that it is hard for me to keep up, probably much less you! But I think I stumbled on something the other day (in "May I?", May 2) that I need to unravel a bit more.

Recently, several of my online astrological and spiritual folks have talked about humanity's evolution away from being so head- and throat-based to being more heart-centered. Love will increasingly become our way of connecting, our way of speaking, our currency, and our source of information. It's been satisfying to hear this, since it resonates with what I have often tried to articulate too.

It dawned on me yesterday that linking this observation to my England and English church music shift, it's like so many of the thoughts I used to have (about only being able to be happy over there or sing that kind of music) -- and the limited words and music I was willing to say/sing with my throat -- are the factors flying away in the wind. What is staying in my heart is a purer form of that lifetime of love, a purer sense of "home", and a purer sense of "harmony". My passion has gotten both smaller and more condensed, and bigger and more expansive. To go back to my metaphor of the banquet table, this may be the moment where many of us bless the bigger spread, and then just grab our absolutely favorite, essential elements (and perhaps some new ingredients) to create a mini-masterpiece, a purer form of our passion. That smaller but more powerful nugget of passion will go through to the new paradigm, and become its foundation.

Peace

This week, I have decided to write every day, Monday through Friday. It just seems like the kind of time where this is necessary. And the first word that met my eye when I made that decision was "Peace". Strangely enough, it not only appears as if I have never used that title for any of my thousand-plus posts, but it is not on my list of Goddess words. How is that possible??!

Being this spontaneous means that I cannot hope to do more than scratch the surface...so that's liberating. I have increasingly written as freely as I can (early on, I almost always drafted my essays on paper first), but with a day or so between posts, I usually do some mental pre-planning. That may not happen this week!

So...peace. My old dictionary definitely presents the word within a duality context -- "freedom from or cessation of war...freedom from civil disorder..." And a number of modern online definitions start there as well. It has always troubled me that peace prizes always seemed to go to people who stopped wars, or who "fought" against conflict. Even before I really understood the post-duality world we are entering, it began to be clear energetically that fighting was fighting, and that if peace could only be defined in relationship to war, then there could never really be lasting peace. The world doesn't seem to have gotten there yet, overall, although I think more and more individuals have. 

What would bring about a peaceful world in this Aquarian Age that we are entering? It is all about the landscape within us. Peace will come when more and more people go to their cores, and face their personal pain, traumas, and disappointments. This is hard work, but when you do it, inner healing is possible. When more people create a state of peace within themselves, they will attract other genuinely peaceful people. This is completely bottom-up peace process, doing almost all the work within and valuing that work because we understand it will eventually resonate outward, locally then globally. 

For about three hours yesterday, I felt utterly at peace -- joyful, calm, happy. I won't say it was strange (although it was, a little!), and I haven't quite been able to keep it going, but I know that even when I can string together a few minutes of such a state, it may be "worth" any and all outward actions.