A Hissy Fit

OK, so two nights ago, in my handwritten journal, I basically had a hissy fit. Addressing God/Goddess/Universe/Source, I basically said, OK, I've had it. I'm exhausted. I cannot move forward without some clarity, some sense of enthusiasm, and I want it NOW, within 24 hours. I slammed the notebook shut.

And within 24 hours, I had made a decision. It's a pretty open-ended decision, but it involves some train travel. I realized that for about three years, I haven't left Duluth-Superior except to go (once or twice) a half hour up the shore to Two Harbors. If absolutely nothing else, I need to get a fresh perspective on life, to watch landscapes roll by the window.

As transitions go, this one has been a humdinger. Yet every transition I have ever made has pushed me forward spiritually, and I hope this one will too. I'm not quite sure when I'll be able to come to the library over the next week or so, but I'll check in when I can. Thanks for following this saga!

Intertwining Themes

Today, there are two intertwining themes.

I've read that it is common -- at certain stages of a spiritual journey -- for a mystic's indispensable connection to the Divine to just drop out of sight. That this can be most likely to happen at a critical juncture like the one I am at now. And if this is what is happening, I am here to tell you that it is a wretched, wretched feeling. When your whole life lens is spiritual, suddenly being unable to access your spiritual center puts all other losses and abandonments in the shade. I don't quite believe that the Goddess or my guides have left me completely -- they are "there" somewhere -- but I would give anything right now to feel the breath of the Divine, and to "hear" Her clear, unambiguous instructions. 

The second theme is "applying". All my life, I have been "applying myself". For decades, I applied to be loved by my family. I applied and applied to be accepted into the world of English church music. I've applied for schools and jobs, auditioned for choirs, applied for apartments and living situations, tried to gain the acceptance that might lead to permanent housing. Perhaps even this blog could be said to be me applying for recognition or even acclaim. I've tried to prove that I write well enough, get good enough grades, sing and sightread well enough, am smart enough, wise enough, helpful enough, a quick enough learner, and good enough at housekeeping or helping sick people. At times, I have had to prove that I'm poor enough, or a good enough artist or teacher. I've tried all my life to meet the "conditions" set for me from without, and I'm just exhausted by this process. 

Somewhere within me, I know that the only world worth being in is a world of unconditional love and acceptance, and this is where today's themes intertwine. To go further on this journey, I must feel the Divine presence more clearly and return to the certainty that Her love isn't conditional in any way. Her loving, supportive energies will surely break through lingering layers of fear at the best possible moment...and, for once, I cannot micromanage when that moment is!

Still Unsettled

Well, I guess when things are still unsettled for a wandering female mystic, there is only one thing to be done -- be powerful. And since there is only one power in this world -- Love -- today might be a good day for a reminder in that regard. Moving forward, increasingly, the only things that will work successfully will be those things undertaken from a genuine place of love, compassion, a sense of beauty, and respect for Mother Earth. I truly believe this, and that it will be a worldwide phenomenon. Those of us with an average-to-high ability to love will no longer find it as difficult to function. Those with limited-or-no ability to love will be...unpleasantly surprised. My vow to myself today is to operate as lovingly and calmly as I can, and acknowledge every good thing that happens with silent or not-so-silent thanks!

On another subject, I just want to say what a blessing it is -- when you've had a life like mine -- to be asked thoughtful questions about it. My life is my goldmine, my experiences are my treasure, my currency. Yet how rarely have people asked ("What was it like when that happened?" "What did you do then?") When I am asked even one little question, it's like a microcosm of what I'd like to be doing regularly, in bigger settings: telling my story and speaking my truth. 

What if...

Two things about the Goddess before I begin...in a transitional time like this one, you wake up in the morning, ultra-thankful to the Goddess to be alive at all. And over the weekend, I realized (of course!) that no matter what my living situation may or may not be in about two weeks, the image I had of my mother welcoming me home is undoubtedly that of the Great Mother. I am back, I am "home", and I never have to leave again to try to be anything I am not.

So, "what if"... I wrote quite a good post by almost this same title nine years ago, September 2015, when I was in much the same situation I am in now! It shows that my life hasn't essentially changed since then, and that it has always required almost superhuman spiritual tenacity -- something I'm not quite feeling in 2024! Anyway, here's the post I worked on this weekend, longhand...

Although my situation is unique, I have been trying to imagine what it would have been like to have reached this age in a more conventional manner. What if I had had a career in business or academia, and received professional accolades in my retirement? Or what if I had married and had children and grandchildren whose lives were intertwined with mine? What if I had a husband who was sick or disabled, whose care I was responsible for? Or what if I myself was struggling with illness, needing care from others? What if good fortune had found me and a spouse living in an upscale retirement community, playing golf and bridge, and with not a care in the world? What if...what if...what if...

There are probably as many "American women at 68" stories as there are American women at 68. I'm not sure if other women are as introspective as I am. But if introspective "me" had somehow reached this age in any of these other situations, I probably would still have found myself agonizing over how to proceed into older age with as much alignment with "the real me" as possible. In some of these situations, I might feel the chasm between my physical reality and "the real me" even more acutely than I am now. In fact, it might be nearly impossible to see the barest outline of me, once the labels of "professor of ____" or "mother" or "grandmother" or "wife" or "worker" or "nurse" or "patient" were stripped away. 

So, all in all, I'm actually glad I have walked the path I have walked, and to know myself so completely. The tradeoff has been wrenchingly hard. (I won't lie. A few times these last few months, it has been tempting to throw up my hands and say, "the heck with this!") But I feel a responsibility, not only to the Goddess, but to all other women, to continue to step forward into further self-actualization. One step at a time, one day at a time. With no promise that anyone will ever get it, or that my life will get any easier. If I can find the courage for one more day, that's enough for today.

Thankful for Libraries

Once again, I am thankful for libraries. I'm not quite sure what percentage of these posts over nine years have been written at a library, but it's relatively high, and I am thankful for all of them. In fact, thinking carefully, I can picture them all. I may not be able to get here tomorrow, so I wanted to grab another opportunity to breathe. Librarians may not realize they are providing the breath of life, but they are.

I've been hit by an "aha" that helps explain something to me, even though I may be teetering on the edge of stereotyping. 

There have been many hard aspects to being a modern female mystic outside all our religious constructs. But as I hit another wall of fear at not seeing a path forward, I realize that it is as much not "feeling" the path toward love as "seeing". I wonder if male mystics and spiritual figures of the past (or present) can cope better than I have with constantly being at odds with the culture, and having to press forward even when not surrounded by acceptance and love. Especially in America, that lone cowboy thing isn't just in the movies, it's part of our ethos...just as, rightly or wrongly, we women are said to crave nesting, opportunities to love, and nurturing. My life has perhaps in that way been strangely male. I've gotten so used to being on a solitary path (despite the dear friends along my pilgrimage), and of my loves and passion hitting brick walls and bouncing back to me, that despite all my talk of love in my posts, I truly haven't had a clue what it would be like to be loved in return for the totality of who I am. 

I think my heart opened up sometime in the last few months. Perhaps the woman in me opened up. And the grief has opened up big time, that I learned too well how to function around the slightly numb edges of my core.

My mom was one of the great non-huggers of all times. And there is no family homestead. Having said that, all I want heading into this chilly early fall weekend is to walk down the sidewalk to home, have mom open the door, open her arms wide, and hold me close, and say, "Welcome back. You never, ever have to leave again."

Leave it to the anonymity of a public computer area to write one of the hardest things I've ever written here. I am crying. I am thankful for libraries.

Goddess Words 32: Heavenly

It's time for another Goddess word. In ways, I am struggling to stay in a "heavenly" place myself, so this writing may help with alignment. 

Many of us have a stereotypical image of heaven -- puffy white clouds, bright light, with angels in white robes, playing harps and singing to God, who is high on his magnificent throne. People dream of "dying and going to heaven", of leaving an evil earth plane and spending eternity in a distant place "up there", a place of perfection.

This, of course, is a duality construct -- that there is a "good place" and a "bad place", and that you may need to fight or die to reach your true celestial home. I've always found this to be a really strange concept.

Perhaps it is because in my vision, a post-duality Goddess construct is inherently "heavenly", even on earth. There is virtually no conflict, so there is definitely no war. All beings are welcomed, housed and fed. There is no money, and no arbitrary decisions are made about what (and who) is of value and who is not. So there are no ultra-rich and ultra-poor. We would have cherished our earth home all along, so we would not, now, be facing climate chaos. Earth would always have been seen as "belonging" to Her, so there would be no concepts of human land ownership and nationality. The heavenly choirs would be all of us, living harmonically with each other, the land, and Mother Earth. We would be singing -- and zinging -- with love. In this picture, "Heaven" is here and everywhere, not just "up there".

It is becoming clear that this "heavenly" vision was my personal reality all along -- probably that is why I was drawn to the English cathedral choir tradition when I was so young, and why I've struggled to function as others do. But to this day, there is a part of me which buys into aspects of the big split: since so many places and situations don't feel harmonic to me, I dream of going where it feels more harmonic. I dream of going "home", if you will. 

So it is a good time to remind myself (and my readers) that "heavenly" starts within. Aligning with love and light starts today. Being at home starts today. It cannot wait until I'm in a better place, a more secure place, or a more beautiful place to my eyes. This is my "heavenly city" today. I don't need to "go" anywhere to access it.

Step Two

On Sunday, I took step two in this unfolding new leg of my saga, and am very thankful that there's a "there" there. I did want to mention that it looks like I will, have to access the computer at the library for the time being, so this blog won't be quite as regular as it has been for several weeks. Writing is like breathing for me, though, and I'll do my best at least to keep to two-to-three times a week.

Since Sunday, I've had this on my mind a propos what I spoke of the other day: I understand that most of my friends and acquaintances have had to work extremely hard to make it possible to own homes, cars, and all the extras of American life. I look on them, and most of our culture, with wonder: how do they do it so successfully? For many of them, it hasn't been easy, and I could never have lived with myself if I had just tried to use people -- I cringe knowing there may be some people who see my life in that light. And undoubtedly if I had had children, I would have put aside my spiritual values and my Quixotic effort to get to England to sing choral evensong. But once I saw how "the harder I worked, the less well I did", I eventually got the message that I had some strange different path ahead of me, and, well, I've followed it. By rights, I should not have made it to age 68, but through the miracles of love, friends, the Goddess, and a rod of iron down my spine, I'm still here. The wonder of that is hitting me now more than ever. (I also have to remember that for anyone, the option could be to say, "The heck with this, I'm doing it my way." I'm kind of a cautionary tale about what that leads to!)

This week, this is the cutting edge I am poised on...keeping in my heart the image of me on a stage, speaking to people about Goddess spirituality, while staying grounded in the present and trying to see the light beckoning from the future. I'm your resident angel, poised on the head of a pin! My success at this changes hour to hour, but, yes, I'm still here. I hope you are too.