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!
