Food Magic

When I was growing up, my parents would occasionally pick up sandwiches and macaroni salad at a nearby delicatessen. The sandwiches would be accompanied by the most wonderful, crisp, bright green pickle spears totally unlike the ones sold in jars. Later I would learn that these are called "half sour" pickles, and although I could find them (refrigerated) in some New York City and upstate New York stores, I never found them elsewhere in the country. 

At some point this summer, the local Farmer's Market was awash with pickling-sized cucumbers, and I bought some, thinking vaguely that I would try my hand at this for the first time. It was only as something of an afterthought that I specifically looked up recipes for half sour pickles, and discovered that it is a really simple process involving salt water, garlic, peppercorns, and a few other spices. After four days or so in the refrigerator, voila, delicious half sour pickles! The moral of this story? After nearly an adult lifetime of looking "without", I was able to do it myself!

The other food magic of the summer was living only about a five minute walk from a natural foods store. Because there is no other major supermarket around, virtually my entire diet came from this source and the Farmer's Market. In recent years, my diet has vacillated widely, from "ramen noodles and fast food dollar menus" to vegetarian, to traditional American meat and potatoes (bought at the supermarket) to all of the above, depending on where I lived and with whom. But never before have I spent a long stretch of time consistently eating such healthy food. It shouldn't have surprised me, but it did -- my body clearly appreciated this change, and the lower levels of sugar and preservatives. This fare was more expensive, but that was offset by so rarely eating fast food or as many of the kinds of snacks that make me hungrier. It was a blessing to fall into good habits. It scares me a bit to realize that not all living situations will be so perfectly situated; I know I could fall back into less healthy eating habits within a matter of seconds. I will try to remember the feeling of my body saying "yes" to foods that are more aligned with nature. 

Saying Yes -- to What?

For years, a phrase has been in my head and, to a certain extent, it has guided my thinking; that "this is a yes-based Universe". I have been assuming that I had heard it in an Abraham-Hicks audio, but just now I couldn't track down my exposure to the concept. Anyway, it is the notion that whatever we put our attention to -- whether they are possibilities or events or conditions we love, or possibilities or events or conditions we hate -- whatever we pay attention to will manifest and grow. Our attention is the equivalent of saying "yes" to aspects of life, and they will grow fastest if we are passionate. This is great when we are passionate about the positive, but hellish when we are passionate against the negative.

I am old enough to remember countless "wars" -- the war on poverty. The war on drugs. The war on illiteracy. The war on homelessness. The war on terrorism. We have fought disease (and are currently fighting COVID). We are fighting climate change. We are fighting racism, violence against women and many other groups, oppression, poverty, inequality, and financial extremes. Most of our current institutions either foster these conditions or fight them. For people of good conscience, all of these are extremely undesirable conditions. And yet in my lifetime, the harder we have fought them, the worse most of them seem to have become. When have we ever "won"? By fighting, or giving things angry attention, we reinforce the extremes and the duality; we unwittingly say "yes" to the negative situation and to constant conflict. We, ourselves, become angrier, and dragged down into the most spiritually- empty places of all, hopelessness, rage, despair and deadness.

Right now, on a global level, it seems like every major news event is giving us the opportunity to wake up and move beyond conflict. It is hard. It goes against all of our instincts to turn our backs on people in trouble, not to actively fight for them. (And, no, turning our backs only to pursue enrichment and fun for ourselves is not a spiritually-viable option!) But once you realize that fighting always creates more conflict, there is only one way to proceed: using all that passion energy to create a completely new paradigm of peace, harmony, love of "the other" and nature, health, beauty and unity. The energies of conflict and creation are completely different, and they will feel different in our bodies and souls. It's hard work, in fact, to shift the numbness and fatigue that so many of us are experiencing. Unwittingly having said "yes" to negativity and conflict over a lifetime takes a huge toll, and it's hard to find the energy to create, especially over 60. I am clearly seeing the manifestation of some of my own inner and outer conflicts right now, in my body and in my spirit. But perhaps there is a gift in exhaustion. Whatever "it" is, whatever crisis is in the ascendent, I cannot fight it any more. What little energy I have left must go to my small role in creating an entirely new, unified, love-filled paradigm. Even if I must re-focus a dozen times a day, even if I must remind myself of it in this blog a dozen times a year, I need to keep saying yes -- to love and life. To a better, conflict-free future. To more beauty and love than I think I can stand. Yes.

Power

For a few days, I am exploring several options that may be available to me going forward. I am trying not to look at these so much as "housing" options, as the life options that might potentially allow me to act more powerfully going forward. Coincidentally (or not!), I picked a "Horse" oracle card, which suggests "power".

I did a search, and it is interesting that I use the word "power" quite frequently in this blog, but it doesn't look like I have used it as a title yet, in nearly 550 posts! Indeed, I had to look up the definition of the word, because when I tried to define it off the top of my head, I failed completely. "Possession of control, authority, or influence over others"...Hmm. This primary definition seems pretty old paradigm to me, with its implication of power in relationships "over" other people (or, presumably, the environment...) And perhaps that is why I have never thought of myself as being "powerful".  Most of the time, I have felt singularly powerless in the world. I have always known that I have inner powers -- creativity in writing, music and art, intuition, intellect, some wisdom -- but have these inner powers created a situation where I was in control of others or even (in any real way) of my own life? Even when I have felt authoritative, has anyone else considered me to be an authority? Have I yet been influential "over" others? Hardly at all. It is like, until now, my power has exuded from within me out to maybe a foot or two beyond my arms, and then it fizzled out. And frankly, I don't want power "over" others, or control "over" others. That's part of the duality construct that I hope is losing its hold on us.

So it is important for me to try to define, for myself anyway, what it would mean to "act powerfully". In a more unified vision, there is only one divine stream and one divine power, love. It just is, it just flows, and as a human being in that construct, I don't need "power over" other beings. I just need to focus on love and flowing with love. What path will allow me to do the things I most love to do? What path will allow me to model love and beauty, and add more of them to the world in the unique ways that I do best? What path allows me to share love with others and the environment? What path helps the world transition from "power over" to "sharing the power of love with"? 

May I have the wisdom and discernment to sense the way forward, with these queries as my guide.

The Slide

Several times over the years, I've mentioned this phenomenon, which perhaps some of you have experienced. You reach some kind of new spiritual level, have a new epiphany about something in your life, or you finally understand something that has eluded you for decades. Then, wham, you slide down into depression or fear.

Last week, as I wrote about last time, I reached a new level in embracing my contemplative nature, and for about 24 hours, I was happy, contented, and completely at home with myself. It was lovely, lovely, lovely. Then the downward slide commenced. Every criticism I have ever received from anyone about being an artist, a musician, being too smart, or "thinking too much" appeared in my consciousness. All the hurtful, dismissive comments, and all the pain of trying to be me, alone in a world that values action and competitiveness over beauty, "beingness" and wisdom...it hit like one of those tsunamis I wrote about a few years ago. The takeaway? "Look where 'being you' has gotten you all these years. You barely have one item of clothing without holes in it. Where is 'being more you' likely to get you?!" Fortunately, a good meal reversed the slide. I mean, a delicious, unique, homemade, healthy food meal. Just the tiniest bit of nurturing revived me. 

And while I have surely followed the news about Afghanistan less closely than most Americans, it was impossible over the weekend not to deeply feel that situation's tragedy and hopelessness, adding to the bleak mood. Indeed, the further out into "post-duality"-land I seem to find myself, the more tragic and hopeless all our wars (military and otherwise) seem to become. It made me wonder if what I experience is happening globally. Perhaps there are lots more people than we realize reaching higher levels of consciousness and harmony. In response, the "old voices"/"old ways of being" are rising up, trying to push us communally down the slide and back into the swamp of fear and chaos, which is the only language they know, and the only power they know.

How to move upwards again? One person at a time. Allow ourselves to be nurtured. Feed a friend or Mother Earth. Notice something gorgeous in nature or art. Help someone. Swim in a lake or walk in the countryside. Read a good book, or sing a good song. Dance a little dance with the squirrels in the yard. Hug someone. Donate to an organization that is uplifting humanity. Write a poem. Notice the sunlight on the flowers in the garden.Try to imagine a world fixated on these beautiful things. Try to imagine a world where these kinds of experiences are the only "reality", because I believe that is where we are headed. Truly. 

Contemplative

These last few weeks, events in the world and conversations with people have brought me a great deal of clarity. It built on the time of being "locked down" during COVID, and the realization that I was happier with relatively little activity out in the world than I usually am with lots of running around.

With every passing day, I accept it more fully; I am a contemplative. If I am not singing, or creating artwork, or writing, I need vast amounts of quiet time to access what appears to be the wisdom of past and even future lifetimes, or to read books by other spiritually-inclined writers, or to simply stare into space and try to figure out the "why's" of everything. This summer has helped me fully embrace this, for which I am grateful. I recently told a friend about my experience (described in my April 4, 2016 blog post) of falling, crying on the floor of the room in Norwich, England that represents Julian of Norwich's anchorage. This experience was so unlike me, so unexpected. I barely knew anything about Julian's writing then, or even now. But something in my soul knew a kindred spirit (and her milieu) when I saw her. To be metaphorically on the other side of a door from a cathedral evensong service, and a window away from a bustling world, is my place. I am accessible, open to questions, longing to share what I know and the artistic and musical beauties and mysteries that are in me. I am just not the appropriate person to fix the world's wrongs, if, indeed, there is such a concept in post-duality land.

Inevitably, the question comes. In a world going mad, how is this contemplation relevant or helpful? In a time such as this, heck, at any time, how are artists and musicians and poets and mystics of any practical use? I guess all I can say is, someone needs to hold/express the energy of beauty, unity, peace, joy, and truth. Merely "holding the energy" takes extraordinary energy. It is a full-time job. And I finally accept that many people will never see these occupations as entirely valid. I (and people like me) may never be "paid" for our time, or widely praised or recognized. It's not "OK", but at my age, I am too tired to try to be someone different.

This week, I have been doing some research into contemplative communities and hermitages, trying to figure out my next step. So far, what I have seen is just not quite right. It hits me that I am my own contemplative community. The abbess of my own order of the divine feminine, just (so far) without the appropriate space or an actual community. How this helps me "find a home" in the next two weeks or so, I don't know, except that it's nice to come so close to finally accepting one's role in this world. It's almost like being handed a beautiful, glowing jewel or passing your final exam with flying colors. The long, winding road did its job.

The Bigger Picture

For all of us, a personal narrative is playing out against the backdrop of a much bigger world picture -- collapses both political and environmental, climate chaos, and coronavirus. To be experiencing any measure of personal uncertainty at such at time is overwhelming, yet most of us are. How do we navigate this upheaval?

Over the last decade, my personal landscape has often seemed as uncertain on the small scale as things look right now on the larger scale, and the only thing that has kept me going, in moments of fear and blindness, is love. Not romantic love, or enormous saintly outpourings of lovingkindness. Just step-by-step, trying to remember and honor what it is that I love. Noticing a color that I love, or a snippet of music that I love, or animals playing in the grass, or someone being kind to someone else at the store. Giving generously when I feel led to, or backing into silence and meditation when I feel led to. There are only two main emotions, love and fear, so it's important not to open the door to the maelstrom of fear. Because it is a maelstrom, and it sucks me in in a heartbeat. For someone who used to work in the news industry, I pay as little attention to the news as I can, because it stokes such an immediate fear reaction, whether it means to or not.

And I try to remember what I believe with all my heart: there is no such thing as death. All of us are everlasting beings. Whether we choose in any given lifetime to be on planet earth for three days or 103 years, our higher selves make the conscious choice when to return to the spirit realm. Does this mean to ignore catastrophes, or not to try to help people in emergency situations? No. But as a culture we are so very fearful of death, when it really doesn't exist. Fearlessness in the face of chaos is easier when you know nothing can ultimately harm you. And when you respect the other person as another eternal being, you have no wish to harm them either.

Kind of preachy today. Ugh. But I'll let it be.

The Blank Canvas

There are certain life lessons you might think I would have learned by now, having had so many transitions, and being a visual artist and writer. But this one seems to have taken a lifetime.

I spent much of the weekend in discernment mode, basically exploring three or four big-picture possibilities for September and beyond. I used all the tools in my toolbox: writing, art, oracle cards, free-association, you name it. I tried hard to sense what option, if any, inspired me, or helped me articulate a life-affirming post-65 life path, and the best way of helping a struggling world. But after hours of work, I realized that these options were all deadening on some level or another. Uninspiring. It was terribly depressing.

This morning, something hit me. And that is, my so-called possibilities for the future were really based almost entirely on my past, the places and situations that I have lived in up until now. Perhaps because I'm so exhausted, perhaps because the news is so heartbreaking, perhaps because I seek comfort and stability, my imagination only seemed to be able to scan past and present realities and try to re-tool them. Indeed, some of my choices over the years were re-do's of previous phases. Is this just me, or is it human nature? After all, the media is full of references to "getting back to normal" -- going back to the familiar. We are all traumatized, needing the comfort of the known. Many of us will do anything to avoid starting completely from scratch.

I also realized that other earlier life decisions were made well before I consciously devoted myself to representing the Goddess. I was trying either to break into some male construct or other, or simply to survive those constructs. Now, in the light of what feels like a more life-affirming spiritual "place", these other physical places and situations don't have quite the same zing anymore. To use the metaphor of the painter, I absolutely need to start a new painting.

The reason that feels so scary is that in the past, when I have faced the blank canvas (say, in 1990 when I first arrived in Duluth), I assumed I had to be a blank painter. I tried to throw away most of my east coast qualifications and expectations (because they didn't seem to be helping me). I had already deep-sixed my musical passion and interest in England. I wanted to try to become what I thought was a more normal person, finding a good job, a stable home, maybe even a relationship or marriage. As all of you know, none of that has ever happened. Metaphorically, I had thrown away my legs and arms and perhaps parts of my soul. For quite some time, I completely lost who I was. I am only now realizing how devastating that was.

So this time at least, while I may be facing a blank canvas, I am not an empty shell of a painter. This artist brings with her decades of unique experiences, all of her considerable education and art/music training, all of her power, all of her foibles and neuroses, all of her passions, unreservedly and unapologetically. And I'll do over the next week or two what I would always do creating an oil painting: fill in the stark white canvas with an earth tone, and then, once that is dry, block in some basic areas of color. The details will have to wait until the blank canvas is no longer completely blank.