Parallel Realities

This weekend, I was able to pull myself together and go out into the world to do some "normal" things. That is to say, things that in modern America aren't considered odd in the least: I had coffee with a friend at a coffee shop, I went into three huge big box stores, and I attended a street art fair. 

The coffee was pretty easy to manage, especially as the weather was fine enough to sit outside at a picnic table. Friendship and the out-of-doors -- a good combination. But the big box stores were truly torture. In all three cases, I was basically "along for the ride", but there were a few essential items I needed and the timing of the car ride was providential. Still...these cavernous buildings crammed with items made from plastic, or wrapped in plastic, or in many cases, both, have come to be an impossible energetic mismatch for me. The one store with a focus on clothing (much of which is also made of man-made materials) had the added disadvantage of being an unholy mess, with apparel tossed hither and yon, shoe box piles toppled over, and sales signage all askew. The line to the cashier was crammed with what I assume are meant to be impulse purchases, all completely glitzy, plastic, unnecessary, terrifying. That so much of our economy and international tension is based on literally shiploads of these kinds of items is mid-boggling. 

The one grocery store in the mix was not much less overwhelming. In fact, it may be more so. (Sorry to bring this kind of thing up again, but I have to do it!) It is so huge and spacious, so glamorous in some respects, that its effect was even more uncomfortable. My mind conjured up (as it frequently does) being a citizen from a war zone, or a visitor to this country from a place of scarcity -- how to even mentally take in all the space, the piles and piles of produce, the numerous brands of each kind of food? The fruit and vegetable area must have been as large as two good-sized American homes, and there were maybe five people shopping at that moment. Who is buying all this food? How much of it is being tossed out in the dark of night, and where? What happens to the tons of expired food? I mean, this isn't about becoming better at collecting such food and distributing it to needy populations--in many communities this is already being done. It's about my certainty that this whole model has been unsustainable for decades, and can't last much longer. But then again, I've thought this thought for years. Plastic is arguably pushing the situation past the tipping point...food items that until recently were still being packed in easily recycled glass bottles or jars are now in plastic. The Goddess in me is in such unbearable pain searching the aisles for my few items, I wish there were another alternative. But this area's only whole foods stores (with some access to bulk buying) are almost impossibly far away for someone with no car. Everything is challenging without a car here. I knew that was going to be the biggest difficulty of the move away from Duluth, and it has been. I don't regret my move one bit, but this is the reality.

Lastly, the outdoor art show. Again, a conflicted experience. It was a beautiful day, and lots of people were out. There was quite a mix of art, quality-wise. I have pretty high standards, so there were really only two participants whose work I really liked. I was glad to see some very young artists displaying their work, but my age was showing -- their work was filled with cartoon, superhero and other references that I didn't quite get! For about 20 minutes, I sat on a bench and essentially people-watched, which also included a considerable amount of dog-watching. Fun. Normally, I would say that art is an important balance to everything happening in the world right now, worthwhile whatever the quality, medium, or subject. But nonetheless there was a sense of unreality about the scene around me. As happens so often with me, I wanted to run around screaming, our world is about to change utterly! Don't you see what's coming? And oddly enough, Mother Nature may Herself have spoken when the wind came up, and a number of artist's metal display units came crashing down, leaving artwork flat on the street and, in some cases, broken. I was sorry for the painters, but also felt a bit better. We have to expect the unexpected right now.

I hate to be so "yes, but..." with so many things. Perhaps this is why I'm experiencing some pretty big swings in energy. I just don't look out and see or feel my exact energy match anywhere. Some of my newfound kindred spirits online seem to be far more undilutedly happy and enthusiastic about our current shift of eras. They seem to be able to move more completely into the New Age without focusing on what some people are calling the old "timeline". Perhaps it is because my connection to that old paradigm has always been so tenuous, and I have had so little security. I'm thrilled that we are finally entering the Age of Aquarius! Overall, I can sense how completely dated and unworkable the old loveless ways are, and I'm excited at the calibre of people around the world who are rising to a new level. It's just that I can feel the lower energies powerfully too, because I've been on my own navigating them for so long. These two realities couldn't be any more different if they tried. But as of now, there are few completely new paradigm places or institutions, so for just a little longer, I guess, the parallel realities will be with us, until the old ones simply fizzle away and we slowly start to build new institutions from the ground up.

Goddess Words 49: Hospitality

I guess it stands to reason that someone from my background might include "hospitality" on a list of Goddess words, as if the Goddess is some kind of society hostess! 

Returning to the Capital District has forced me to look at my childhood influences, and in this regard, I'd have to say that neither my mother or my father were exactly "hospitable" people. I mean, Mom didn't routinely have friends dropping by for coffee or tea (although her bridge club arrived en masse about once a year). I don't think my dad had any friends, so there were never men coming over to play poker in the basement or to watch football. But there were some special occasions, particularly a very formal yearly New Year's Eve party. Once I was old enough, I was allowed to stay up as guests were arriving and play waitress with trays of hors d'oeuvres. The men weren't in tuxes exactly, although I remember cummerbunds; black and white evening jackets were the norm, and the women wore long shimmery dresses and jewelry. Before too long, the living room was too smoky and drinky for me, and my mother would shoo me upstairs as a man with a deep bass voice intoned one of the Christmas letters we had received, to guffaws of laughter. (I always felt rather sorry for the sender.)

One definition of hospitality includes the word "generous", and to me, this is key. To be true "hospitality", a person's welcome needs to be genuine, from the heart, embracing. It's not about impressing people, or good business (although these days that facet has entered into it), or feeling sorry, or forced good humor. It's about not serving the coffee that's been sitting in the urn for hours, but making new coffee. It's about really caring that the person you are welcoming is comfortable, and has been refreshed. Some of this is so engrained in me that, even having so rarely had my own place in which to entertain or welcome people, I sometimes find myself playing that role in other peoples' houses. There is something in me that just cannot help it. The visitor may have travelled some distance, may be tired, thirsty or hungry, and simply may just need to sit down. I get it.

Judging from my favorite Sister Fidelma mysteries, hospitality in 7th century Ireland was written into law, at least as far as monasteries, inns, and some other institutions were concerned. It was a societal obligation to put up the stranger at your door, and this filtered down to individuals in the smallest of hovels. I cannot know whether, thus codified, hospitality lost its spontaneity and generosity, but at least someone wandering on a dark road at night could expect to be welcomed in some kind of basic way at the first house with a lantern at the door. We all need this at some point in our lives, perhaps often.

In the context of current events, it is almost unbearably painful to see how our national concept of hospitality has been turned on its head, Our stance couldn't be further from that of the Goddess -- hate-filled not generous, pushing out not drawing in, cold rather than warm. I shudder to think of the "karmic payback" we are drawing to us.

Well, we are all playing a different role in the enormous shift that Life is undergoing right now, and we can only find the role that is right for us, and play it. If I've said this before, forgive me the repetition -- I think that the values of the Goddess are so instilled in me that my role is, in effect, to be the hostess, welcoming people to the new era, recognizing the difficulty of the journey we have all undertaken, and wishing to provide travelers with a soft chair, a cup of hot tea or ice water, a snack, and a footstool. I want to provide hospitality, to say "welcome". You made it. We made it. This paradigm is real, and this is what it feels like -- warm, welcoming, generous to all, and a relief from the tumult we've been through. I'll want people to take all the time they need to acclimate, to heal, and to refresh. If they make it to the door, my light will be on...wherever I am.

And another...

This is one of those weeks when, if I write, I am still alive. Now things aren't as dire as that, by any means, but this process of "ascension"/keeping up with emerging Aquarian energies as the world falls backwards/staying true to myself is not getting easier. I feel ripped to shreds, and in a "space" I don't recognize (and this is on top of how unrecognizable our culture has become.)

The process is getting more interesting in at least one respect, however! I got one phone call yesterday, just one, and it was to confirm that I will have the opportunity to do a three- or four-day retreat next week in a rather interesting location. More (perhaps) about that later. But it confirms for me that I'm in this "place" where the only communication actually reaching me is information that I truly need, spiritually. Nothing else is coming in -- and perhaps some of what I am sending out is, itself, unnecessary for me and for those at the other end, thus the silence.

I know I've said this at least once in the past...I've kept going with this blog in large part to chronicle what it has been to be a 21st century-American (with stronger ties to Britain)-Goddess-centered mystic. What life is like when your values are the complete opposite of the culture. The joys, the wonder, the complete uncertainty, the fear, the hard decisions, the solitude, the occasional moments of connection and beauty. The wavering in and out of feeling held by the Great Mother. There may be no one out there with my exact imprint, but as I found in the friend I spoke about last time, there are certainly other wandering female mystics and always have been. The difference is that in this era, I have this venue to express my thoughts. In a way, this blog is my only true "home". If my posts are any help to even one other woman on a mystic path, I'll feel "successful".

I'm still not necessarily planning to write every day moving forward, so not to worry when a few days go by. Still, I feel led to be ever more regular and open with both good and bad -- about my life path. (I feel less led than ever to commenting on the crumbling infrastructure outside of me, because the focus now needs to be on trying our best to navigate the path to a very different future.) 

Another Day

I think there may be a few people who check in to my blog to make sure I am still alive, and I am so appreciative of them. Yes, it has been "quite a journey" and this is probably a good way to check. Here I am today, September 4, 2025, another day! I am thankful to be in a beautiful setting, which is sustaining and encouraging...but doesn't always completely smooth the path.

Because of one of the ideas I was considering yesterday, I was reminded of a remarkable woman I met about 30 years ago. She was a much older version of me, an Aquarian mystic, and she had been wandering for at least 30 years. We couldn't help but compare notes. She was the person who explained to me that people with old paradigm thinking and an ability to function well in our old paradigm financial system are the ones who thrive, as do those with new paradigm thinking and an ability to function well in our old paradigm financial system. It's those of us who are "new-new" who find no traction, no easy way to move forward. I think that she eventually made her way "home", but how far into old age she lived, I don't know. I hope she had some comfort and community toward the end.

At the time, I remember thinking, if the next thirty years of my life are as unsettled as hers has been, I won't be able to bear it. There must be something I can do differently -- and yet, my life was a variation on the same theme. It has been "unbearable", and yet bear it I have -- and most women around the world bear much worse. I think I mused once before over whether the experience of contemporary male mystics is different or easier. I suspect so, but I don't know any personally. My hunch is that they may be taken more seriously, and listened to more readily. I value my alone time more than anything, but the woman in me longs for community, sharing, and mutual learning and respect. And my ideal community (like my ideal choir) would mix the gifts and sounds of both men and women.

A few wispy white clouds on the horizon today...rain must be due. Or storms of some other nature.

On an ascension path, I guess there are stretches of time when your new energy just simply doesn't communicate with the old energy surrounding you, and there's an awkward readjustment. Goddess give me the strength to keep going, and to take the path ahead -- when I know what it is! Thank you for bringing me to another day.

Five Monarchs

I don't know that I have ever done two posts in one day, but I had to add a short post script. Yes, it's been a particularly unclear week. I feel so clear in my own self, but, as ever, not in terms of how to navigate the world. I said I needed to look for beauty, or something beckoning and shimmering to hold onto, and on a walk just now, I saw not one, not two, but five monarch butterflies. That's more than I've seen all summer combined! It's a little pathetic to hold onto this for dear life, but I will. If they can stay alive in this crazy world and flit from goldenrod flower to goldenrod flower, then I hope I can too.  

When the Bottom Drops out

I guess I should have expected it, seeing as how I have experienced so many revelations recently, and so much in our outer world is shaking and quaking. 

But I feel like I am having one of those weeks where just about everything is dropping out from under me. My living situation is shaky, and when I try to connect outward with people or make plans, it doesn't happen properly. I'm not hearing back from texts and calls, and I'm not even getting the pleasure and learning from various online teachers that I was for a few months. Fall is coming, and with it the panic about where I will be when it gets cold and icy. It's so simple really. I want what I've wanted for years, to find people like me and be in community with them. But my take on things isn't easy for some people to absorb, and while inwardly I know that I am a treasure (!), not everyone has seen me, my presence, or my process that way. At my age, and at such an insane moment in our culture, it would be so easy to throw up one's hands and say, I just can't do this anymore.

What will keep me going? Breathing. Remembering that the time we are entering is much more "my time" than the time we are leaving. Finding one thing that is good and beautiful. One thing that is working. One beautiful thing in nature. One thing that shimmers beautifully on the horizon. I signed up for an event that I think will play that role, so I hold on tight while the gauze is tearing and the bottom is dropping out. If any of you are going through this kind of thing, please know that I'm with you.

What's Next?

There are "suddenly" a lot of people saying some of the things I've been saying for years -- well, not so suddenly I'm sure. It's just that it took me a long time to find them. Anyway, we are all trying to make sense of the new era we are entering. Today seems like a good day to try to articulate a few of the qualities of this upcoming time, based as best I can on my own thinking. It will be harder and harder to remember when or how I was influenced by other thinkers, and, basically, it will not matter anymore anyway. All of us are being inspired by Spirit, by the Love at the core of it all, so all our egos are increasingly taking second chair. 

In one sentence, the Age of Aquarius will be a time characterized by Love. Love will be the only potent force in the universe. This process has started, as easy as it may be not to believe it. People, processes and institutions that have been based in conflict, hatred, and pain are scrambling...perhaps they know their time has come and gone. Yet all of us have to look honestly at all the underpinnings of our lives, and sense whether our foundations are built on all-Love, or on "Us vs. Them, Good vs. Evil, Right vs. Wrong, etc." Frankly, most of the personal or societal building blocks constructed in the old paradigm are likely to collapse, without any help from us. No fight is necessary here. It is Love filling every space currently empty of it. 

In a way, that's why I've lived the way I have. I knew I might eventually need to live without "modern medicine", so I tried to get my body used to it. I knew it might eventually be hard to be laden down with a lot of possessions, property or financial complications, so I stayed as uncomplicated as I could. I knew that what is currently considered "success" would be considered completely immaterial toward the end of my life, so I tried hard not to measure myself by that yardstick (although that may have been the hardest thing of all). I don't think we can prepare, per se, for the process we are about to go through, except to stay in the present and be grateful for whatever blessings we currently experience. It's probably a good idea, too, to stay aware that things may change utterly. If you have a home, or health care, or income, now, you may or may not have them down the line. You may or may not live in a landscape that looks familiar down the line, or even continue to be alive on this earth plane. Just remember that life itself never ends, and that all of us are eternal beings. There is no death on the divine plane, and some people who are alive now will "die", only to play important spiritual roles behind the scenes moving forward. For a period of time, we may be uncomfortably half-in and half-out of the new age, and every day will be a complex navigation of that reality.

Ultimately, this is a time to welcome -- for those of us capable of love, harmony, beauty, and respect for the earth, it is literally "the dawn of a new day". For those of us who honor the Great Mother, She is back. But others literally cannot stand the idea of such a world. There will be earthquakes of both the natural and human kind. If possible, embrace it all, even the chaos. It is happening, and it is real. It is a time of shocking beginnings and endings, a tearing of the fabric that held us in place, But that's the whole point. Our culture was like a big gauze bandage, trying to protect humanity's greatest wound -- duality. As the gauze tears away and the open sore is exposed to the air, it will be exceedingly painful for a while, but slowly but surely the wound will finally start to heal. We will not need the specific bandages that have been in place for so long.