Seeing that I am Still Connected

I worked on this blog post on November 6, but didn’t publish it.  Reading it over, I think it expresses very well exactly where I was.

From my journal for Monday, November 1

Headache.  Feeling a little bleak.       — peach colored clouds in a pale blue-green sky, my tree glowing red-orange. my soul is nourished by the color. now a wind shakes the branches and leaves fly —

I had a lot of things to read, but it was all difficult.  The Web of Meaning was in the place where he talks about how well-entrenched the capitalist system is.  Etty is examining herself for faults and trying to encourage better behavior, but I find it hard to get exactly what she’s talking about.  And in April ’93 I was having a bad time with headaches & nausea & lethargy & having trouble with organizing tasks.  I think it’s both systemic yeast & menopause, but it’s not fun.  I went to Kripalu for a week of R&R, & had a bad headache the whole time.  I’m just beginning to see how mercilessly I push myself.

So I had no comforting reading yesterday.  I do find my blog comforting.  Even it it’s about a bad time, that reminds me of what I’m up against, and also I seem to have got past a lot.  Or healed a lot.  I haven’t felt afraid in a very long time.  Most of my discouragement has to do with the damage to the earth, and some of it with no community of like-minded souls.  But I realize that I do trust that the world I love is held in compassion by a larger cosmos.  It is painful that I have no community who “get” what I offer, but I don’t see that as being because I don’t have anything worthwhile to offer.  It’s because Western culture is so badly off center.  I am wounded, yes, but so are most people, and unlike most of them, I have worked to heal my wound.  And I do believe that is a positive contribution to the human energy field.

3rd cup. coffee.      When I sat down to breakfast I realized I had started to read Enduring Lives.  It was in the pile of books and I knew it would help.  In the introduction is the quote about the medieval world view, that there is an invisible realm that interpenetrates the visible.  This morning I started reading what she has to say about Etty and she understood much better than I did what’s going on with her.

When I went out with Mocha it was incredibly beautiful outside.  Sunny, breezy, not too cold.  Wonderful colors, the oaks up by the road have gone their amazing brownish red.  I had an odd double feeling: almost joy in the colors & the breeze and sorrow in the knowing how fragile and fleeting it is.  Something that I felt when I knew Bella was dying.

What’s really strange is that even this recent difficult time has not broken my connection to the wider, more inclusive, participatory, sacred cosmos.  I can still feel it there, under everything, like the floor that caught my pieces after starting S.E., like the “goodness beyond goodness.  I thought that if I got to this stage I would be happy all the time, but there’s still a slightly scary unfamiliarity.  I think it’s because I’m breaking all those old family rules — Thou shalt not think thyself so great, Thou shalt constantly push thyself to prove thee deserves to live, Thou shalt do everything right, etc.

This entry was posted in Journal, Present Day, Spirit. Bookmark the permalink.