If we have the luxury of looking back in a few years -- if there is still a left-brained "timeline" view of history at all (which I am not certain will be the case) -- I may look back on April 11-12, 2026 as having been even more of a personal turning point than many of the others that I have recorded in this blog. (Perhaps a major turning point for the world as well, but I'll leave that to others to analyze.)
It all started with my post four days ago, "The Boat, from Above", then the quick revolving door realization that it would be richer to consider the old aspects of my life as things to approach with curiosity before completely abandoning them. To find different ways of looking at them...
To be honest, after my subsequent post, I didn't have much time for contemplation. By my standards, it was a busy weekend that included a concert and a short road trip through upstate New York's grey, not yet seriously greening, landscape. This morning, I awoke bolt upright at about 1:30 am, and realized something shocking. For the first time in this lifetime, when I thought about England, I didn't feel one ripple of emotion, either "When and how can I get back there?" or "I need to find somewhere to live where I will forget how much I want to get back there!" I mean, I felt nearly no ripple of enthusiasm whatsoever, at least for the general idea of returning, even for a visit. If I were to find a community of kindred spirits in England, it would be an entirely different story. But somehow, the energy around that country, per se, as my-only-place-to-be has shifted in a major way. It took about 65 years. Yikes.
Add to that the fact that I found the Capital District outskirts profoundly depressing as we drove around. In my year-plus back here, I have yet to make an emotional connection to the area of my birth and upbringing. I've better come to peace with it, yes, and it has been a perfect place to undergo substantial changes, but I don't feel grounded or any sense that my rebirth is "about being here". It's a good reminder -- our joy and growth come from within, not from externals. But when added to certainty that previous home bases are unlikely to factor in to my future, I had an unnerving middle-of-the-night hour of complete dislocation before falling back asleep. England had tethered me somewhat all those years. It was a certainty, something that defined me. Suddenly -- poof! -- for the next leg of the journey, it may define me no more. Spiritual vertigo...very unnerving.
If I hadn't done, like, thirty years of intensive spiritual work, I suspect that this weekend would have been shattering. Perhaps my body would have decided, "Enough is enough!" and I would have faded away. But I've done enough inner growth and outer "listening to other spiritual seekers" to realize that this current shift upwards is a singular event. If earlier humans experienced such sudden transitions in consciousness, we have no record of it. I suspect that these two days were an unsettling giant leap for other mystics as well, and I recount my experience in the hope that it might help support us all, so we don't feel as alone.
