What My Heart REALLY Wants

Wondering if writing something would help.  I’m feeling badly scattered.  The computer has frozen on me twice today and I’m frustrated.  Maybe try a suggestion from Radical Acceptance — Tara Brach says something about needing to know what your heart really wants.  I’ve been thinking about it, and what I want is big and complex.

1) The earth is healthy, with clean water, clean air, and resources being used responsibly and sustainably.
2) People revere the earth and care for it appropriately.
3) People in public office are intelligent & compassionate and have high moral standards and are willing to work for peace and justice for everybody.
4) People who are disabled, sick, poor, having a hard time, can find appropriate, knowledgeable and compassionate help.
5) People know how to work together co-operatively, and everyone gets to do work that they really care about.
6) Schools are fun, learning is self directed, children spend a lot of time in nature.  Making sure that kids grow up healthy and happy is the highest priority for everyone.

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“I am Not a Bad Person, Bad Things Happened to Me”

I am so tired and so discouraged. Set the timer for 15 minutes to meditate.  Immediately my heart started to hurt.  Instead of trying to make it go away, I offered it as prayer.  The first time I’ve been able to do that.  I know my pain is about the earth, global warming, wars, and my exhaustion.

While walking Mocha I looked for evidence of Spirit.  “Where is spirit in this?”  Flowers, color, beauty, no problem.  What about wilting flowers, dirty sidewalks?  I found it confusing.  Intellectually I believe that spirit is in everything. But I have no experience of spirit in everything. I remember the time I was driving on the highway through country and felt how much I loved the trees. And then I felt love coming back from the trees. That’s as close as I’ve ever been to feeling spirit in the world.

Intense session with Erica.  Trying to get in touch with my heart. Putting my hand on my heart, paying attention to sensation, making sounds and feeling the vibration.  Then I started feeling really hopeless, and finally I got angry.  The anger felt good! I’m not choosing to be helpless, I am truly wounded, damaged by things that happened to me.

Realizing the extent to which my life has been ruined: by early trauma, by Mother’s mis-representation, by the social distancing required by COVID.  It looks like I will never “have a life.”  I don’t think I’ll even be able to do Sacred Sites again, which is one of the meaningful things I love to do.  It looks like I’ll just keep stumbling on, doing my best to feed myself and take care of Mocha.

I typed up the talk with Erica.  It was amazing that I went from feeling a complete failure to seeing that it wasn’t a choice I was making. I wasn’t choosing to be helpless, I was damaged, wounded.  I worked so hard to heal, and I healed a lot, but somehow COVID, and the social distancing, triggered my early trauma and so far I haven’t been able to recover.  There’s also been the health stuff, my body breaking down: thyroid collapsing, bursitis, cancer, inability to sleep.

I think about how my life was ruined by trauma, lies, and COVID.  But I’m not the only one.  Even here at Kendal there are people whose lives have been ruined by things they had no power over, and certainly in the greater population outside.  I remember something I once saw, a workshop for prisoners.  The leader had them stand in a big circle and then asked them to take a step forward if they had a parent who was an addict, and again, a step if their family was poor, and so on.  It began to be obvious that the people who were prisoners, were there because they had so many counts against them. 

I also remember taking a test about how much you had going for you and how much against.  For me: I grew up in a wealthy family, against me: my parents were alcoholics, for me: I got a good education, against me: I was traumatized in infancy…  According to them I had more things against me than for me.  In which case I actually did well with my life.

The title, “I am Not a Bad Person, Bad Things Happened to Me,” is what I say at the end of Journey Into Courage, as I throw my razor blade into the garbage can. But I think it’s taken me this long to get the truth of that.

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Lost, Discouraged, without Resources or Support

I have been having a very hard time because I haven’t been able to sleep unless I take a drug, which I’ve now taken for almost a month, and shouldn’t take for very long.  But if I don’t take it, I don’t sleep at all, and that leaves me with a brain barely functioning and too tired than to do more than get food for myself and the dog, and walk the dog.  Even taking the medication, I do fall asleep, but I wake up still tired and find it hard to get going in the morning. Even with this much sleep, I still can’t do much more, though I have managed to get some practical things done.

Notes from my journal for Friday, May 10

I have been feeling so sad.  Part of it is reading Green Dolphin Street — Marianne is in pain because William loves Marguerite, Marguerite in pain because Marianne helps when his father dies, William seduced in China, loses his place in the Navy, has to stay in New Zealand.  My heart hurts.

Also hurts because I’m too tired to do anything meaningful, my mind simply can’t connect with Spirit, I feel cast out.

Saturday, May 11

So tired.  So discouraged.  Realizing that I can’t think well enough to deal with the cell phone even though I’m paying something like $60 a month for it.  The song in my head is the Lower Lights — “some poor fainting struggling seaman, you may rescue you may save.”

I got the cell phone several months back, but my friend who was going to help me has a husband with Parkinson’s and she’s needed to spend a lot of time with him. The phone does not work properly, and I simply haven’t been able to deal with it.  First because of having breast cancer, and then this sleeplessness.

The Lower Lights is a hymn that we sing when we do the informal Hymn Sing on Tuesday nights. Often asked for by a man who was in the Navy.

I guess I’m the “fainting struggling seaman.”

I started reading Marcelle Martin’s book at bedtime.  The book talks about getting in touch with Spirit, allowing Spirit to guide you, etc.  I’m having such a hard time right now even feeling the presence of spirit.  I try to pray but it’s difficult and painful.  There was a time, not that long ago, when I felt in touch with both Jesus and Julian of Norwich.  But now, I can’t feel either of them, and when I pray “May I beheld in lovingkindness” I don’t feel anything.  So it’s back to “I choose to trust that the Universe is alive and intelligent and holds us all in compassion.”  I can say it, but I don’t feel anything.  back to the Lower Lights…

Part of my difficult praying or getting in touch with Spirit is my brain not working properly because of too little sleep. I am feeling very lost, and despairing, and totally without support.

If this post is a confusing jumble, it’s a perfect reflection of my life at this moment. In fact I feel like I don’t have a life. I’d rather be dead, but I can’t do that to Mocha.

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Teaching Astronomy and Sacred Circle Dance

This was originally written in writing group on Monday, October 2, 2023. Then I did a lot of editing and adding material since I hadn’t had time to finish.

Today is Beltane, it seems an appropriate time to publish this.

I was talking with some friends about our work and vocation, and one of them asked me if I taught folk dance and astronomy to prove that I was a good person, or intelligent.  I realized that the truth was my motivation was because I loved folk dance and astronomy, and loved sharing them with people who wanted to learn. 

I have a degree in Astronomy, and was asked to teach a course for the School for Lifelong Learning back in the 80’s. SLL offered a degree program for adults who had finished High School, but never gone to college. When they hired me, my boss said I could teach the class as it was described in the University of New Hampshire Catalog, or I could make up my own. They wanted a science without math. I said I would make up my own, and it would be Astronomical Observation from the Sun Dagger to Newton.

The most important assignment was the observing notebook: to go out every day, morning and evening, and write down what you see. The notebook was 50% of the grade, but some people’s notebooks were enough better to get extra points. There was the woman who counted sunspots, that’s a very useful task that amateurs can do and send their results to an agency that can use them.  The man who started tracking the Galilean satellites of Jupiter, there are four and they can be seen through a good pair of binoculars.  The dyslexic who couldn’t write much in his observing notebook but when I asked questions to see what he understood, he had clearly done the work.  The cop who would write 0200 hours and then wax poetic about the night sky.  I gave extra points for special projects like the sunspots and the Moons of Jupiter. In fact, what would usually happen is one third of the class would get B’s, one-third would get A’s, and then there was the third who got more than 100 points.  What do you give them?  So I bought little gold star Christmas tree ornaments to give them and called them my gold star students.  I remember one of  them wrote me a note saying “Thank you for an interest that I will enjoy for the rest of my life.”

Then there was teaching Sacred Circle Dance at Neskaya.  Sacred Circle Dance is based on the recognition that the traditional folk dances have a spiritual dimension.  I had already been doing folk dance in Brunswick, Maine, loved it, and took a tape of my favorites when I moved to Franconia and started teaching a small group there.  I remember thinking in Brunswick that I went to Wednesday  folk dance the way other people went to church.  Then someone told me they were doing Sacred Circle Dance on the green in Danville as part of the Dowsers Convention at the time of the equinox.  What’s that, I said and went.  They were doing dances I already knew around a centerpiece with a candle and some flowers.  Well, I thought, I already knew that.  What had happened was that Bernard Wosien had a collection of folk dances that he said had esoteric meaning.  He was looking for a community to give them to.  He went to a conference at Findhorn, and people there thought it was a great idea, took the dances, and started making up new ones.  I went and did the first training with Peter Vallance from Findhorn in this country.  I was lucky that I already knew how to teach folk dance.

It’s so clear that Astronomy and Sacred Dance are my vocation.  I love teaching, I teach with enthusiasm, my whole concern is not to look smart, but to get the material across. I know that I have inspired a lot of people to love these things that I love.

I even managed to get them together in a workshop called “Dancing the Sacred Calendar.”  The Cross-Quarter Days: Beltane, Lammas, Samhain, and Imbolc, occur when the sun arrives at the moon’s standstill, an event that is easily indicated at Stonehenge, by the relationship between the Trilithons in a horseshoe in the center, and the outer ring of stones connected by lintels. It’s because of this alignment at Stonehenge that I believe the Cross-Quarter days are not halfway between Equinox and solstice, but are in fact when the sun arrived at the moon’s standstill, although no one else talks about this. Dancing the Sacred Calendar involved a twenty-four hour period, during which we danced three dances for each holiday every three hours. We started with Summer Solstice at noon on Saturday, and ended with Beltane at 9AM on Sunday. It involved getting up at midnight to dance Winter Solstice, and 3AM to dance Imbolc. I also talked about the background during times in between dancing. I really enjoyed teaching it because it brought the two important parts of my life together.

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“I Gave my Life Energy to Sacred Meaning”

From the Center for Action and Contemplation, the Daily Meditation for April 28, 2024. Written by Richard Rohr:

Like Jesus, my spiritual father Francis of Assisi (1182–1226) was connected to the Source. He truly experienced radical participation in God’s very life. Such practical knowing of his value and true identity allowed Francis to let go of status, privilege, and wealth. Francis knew he was part of God’s plan, connected to creation and other beings, inherently in communion and in love. Francis taught his followers to own nothing so they would not be owned by their possessions. 

Richard Rohr talks about the Franciscans, how they weren’t interested in money or status, how they lived in poverty, owning nothing.  I was lucky to have some money of my own, enough to live simply, and I could use my time for what I wanted to do.  I never bought things for status, I bought them because I loved them, because they were beautiful or meaningful, or else utilitarian and necessary.  I spent a lot of money building Neskaya, but that wasn’t about status, it was about having sacred space in which to do sacred dance.

I do have too many things.  I’ve given a lot away when I could find someone who wanted them.  My big problem with throwing things away is that I felt “thrown away” in my family of origin, and always felt that I had to find a good home for things.

I don’t feel “connected to the Source,” but it was true that status, privilege and wealth were never important to me. I see that what was important was meaning and beauty and truth. And what are “meaning, beauty and truth” if not the same thing as “sacred.”  At least that was true for me. I didn’t believe in “God” but that was because I thought “God” was judgmental and punitive. I choose to trust that God is infinitely compassionate, though because of my life experience, alcoholic parents, early trauma, it’s still hard for me to trust that that’s true.

When Erica told me I “gave my life energy to sacred meaning,” it felt true to me, but it was hard for me to see how. Now I see the truth of it. This morning I told God that I wanted to do Their Will, and asked what it was, and God said “Take care of yourself.” I see a face with a very loving, compassionate smile. Thank You.

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1995: Positive Feedback

I did the first draft of this back in October 2023.  Never finished it. Looking again at it, I see that it fits with my previous post about Vocation.  How amazing!

From my journal for November 23, 1995

I wake to terror.  My husband said yesterday that we will owe the IRS over $100,000 for this year’s capital gains taxes, and that sets off a round of fear.

I come up to my desk and find a note to myself:  “CLARIFYING: Does this belong to the social-political world? or to the path with heart?” and that reminds me that Neskaya is a path with heart.  And that starts a warmth inside and drives the fear away.

November 24

Christie said something the other day about me teaching her that it was good to cry.  Then Lydia and Ed and Asa showed up.  They prowled around here for a while, Lydia showed me a video of the short ski-skates she’s been dancing on — I think I’ll get a pair.  Then we went over to Neskaya.  While we were there, Lydia said something about how I had been the one who had first given her a glimpse of a different way of living.  (O yes, I remember lying on rubber rafts in her cove and talking about my book)  She said I had always been on “the cutting edge” and that was a hard and lonely place to be.  That kind of validation and support means a lot to me right now, as I continue to struggle with the hopelessness.  I told her how I felt like I was “exploring the bottom,” she said she had done something like that herself, described a vision of a past life in which she was killed by priests who wanted to steal her light, and she understood that they couldn’t do it.  She said that since then she hasn’t felt afraid to be herself in the world.  That gives me hope.

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Questions about Vocation

I’ve been reading Parker Palmer: Let Your Life Speak.  In some ways it’s a continuation of what I did with Stephen Cope’s book.  Parker Palmer talks about vocation.  How do you know what your vocation is?  Not from ego, not to be important or famous or make a lot of money.  Something your have to listen for, a calling from the soul.  

My book, The Feminine of History is Mystery, developed out of a dream class, taught by Charles Poncé.  He was a Jungian and looked at our dreams in terms of archetypes.  I began to see a polarity: Sun-Moon, Male-Female, Righthand-Lefthand, the two hemispheres of the brain — so I decided to write a book with left-hand pages and right-hand pages.  

I also developed a fade-dissolve slide show which involved two projectors and a device that allowed me to fade from one to the other.  The pictures were mostly ones I had taken on several trips to England and France to see megalithic monuments.  Later I found someone who had the expertise to turn it into a video on a DVD which made the presentation much easier.  I had imagined I would get opportunities to do the show for audiences and could sell books at the same time.  But, alas, this clever idea was derailed by depression rooted in trauma.

Journey Into Courage.  Remembering how Beverly & I said we would do street theater around childhood sexual abuse.  And then I saw we weren’t doing it, so I said to God “If you want this to happen, somebody else has to do it.”  Only a few weeks later Lynelle told me there was a drama class for victims of domestic violence at Umbrella in St. J.  So I went, and that became Journey Into Courage.  Telling the truth about my life on stage.  Changing, expanding, people’s understanding of domestic violence.

It changed people’s lives.  Perhaps my vocation is to change people’s lives.

I discovered folk dance on New Year’s Eve 1964-65.  I was in Paris with some Greek friends, and we went to a party where they were doing Greek folk dance.  When I moved to Brunswick Maine, I started going to a regular folk dance class.  When I moved to Franconia, I brought a tape of my favorites and taught a small group.  Then I heard about Sacred Circle Dance, based in the old folk dances but with the understanding that they had a sacred dimension. The man I was married to at the time was teaching Aikido, a martial art that has a spiritual dimension. Eventually we decided to build a building for sacred movement arts, and that was Neskaya Movement Arts Center.

But now what?  Having moved away from Franconia I no longer teach dance at Neskaya. Does Jenny still have a vocation?  If I don’t have a vocation, what’s the point?  Having a vocation gives meaning to my life.  I’ve been looking at some things I have done with my life, wondering if there is a common thread that could be my vocation.

What if your life has meaning just as it is?

I got this far on April 6, and haven’t written anything since.  In work with Erica, what happened was I remembered all the people who told me “When you said …. it changed my life.”  What I said was something ordinary for me, not an attempt to educate.  I think of one story.  I was at Kripalu, returning from a walk with a friend.  I saw a wasp walking across the sidewalk.  It was too cold for him to fly.  I was afraid he would get stepped on, so I picked him up by one leg and put him on the base of a statue that stood by the door.  My friend was astonished to see me do this, and said something like “WOW!  How can you do that!”  I said “I’m a member in good standing of the insect rescue league.”  “Well, you just changed my life.”

I think of Angela saying, after I talked about Neskaya to a therapy group she was holding in the building itself “You are way outside the boxes those women live in.”  She’s the one who thought that the building was a “healing sanctuary.”  I remember thinking, maybe even setting an intention, that Neskaya should affect everyone who came in by lifting their consciousness one level above where it was when they came in.

I think it may very well be true that my vocation is just to be myself, and just being myself I change people’s lives.

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“All Shall Be Well”

The combination of early trauma and the possibility of cancer has been totally disruptive. I have been having a very hard time sleeping.  At least three nights when I didn’t sleep at all, and most nights waking at 2 or 3 and not sleeping after that. I am exhausted and finding it very hard to function. This has been going on since the beginning of March.

After another night of no sleep at all, I gave in and took some Melatonin two nights ago. I did manage to sleep most of the night. Last night I did the same thing, but was awake before 3:00. So I am barely functional.

This morning the song in my head was Meg Barnhouse’s song about Julian of Norwich, All Shall Be Well.

This was the best version I could find of the original quote. Go down to the last day. Something I didn’t realize until now is that the words aren’t Julian’s, they are what she heard God say.

From my journal for April 11:

Walking Mocha outside, light rain, looking at grass and trees.  I thought briefly about the political idiocy and the wars, and then I saw very clearly that that wasn’t reality and reality was good.  I can’t explain it better than that, but it still feels clear.

From my journal for April 12:

Then there was that odd realization while walking the dog.  I think it was a variation of the goodness beyond goodness.  Unable to put it into words.  I suspect it was my True Self acting.  I have been calling on True Self to be with me.  Maybe it worked.

From my journal for April 13:

The song in my head all morning has been Meg Barnhouse’s All Shall Be Well.  While walking Mocha I again had the sense that despite all that’s gone wrong for me, all is still well.  I am safely in the hands of God.

This is so different from what I’ve experienced for most of my life. I am just amazed. I think it must be my effort to get True Self to be with me, and True Self knows that all is well.

And I am still utterly exhausted and finding it hard to function.

 

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Today

I’m having a really bad time this week. Last night I didn’t sleep at all. I’ve been sleeping very badly, but not sleeping at all is a disaster. Erica is away this week, so I don’t have her help. I’ve been alone too much, haven’t been able to find ways to be with people. I’m sure my early trauma has been triggered, and I’m also stressed out about the possibility of further cancer.

I’m so tired I can’t think. I’ve been reading murder mysteries by Ellis Peters. Mocha is barking and I can’t stop her. Almost crying, I went into the bedroom and shut the door. She stopped barking so I came out. She did it again, I did it again.

Recently I read a post where I describe a bad time. It’s comforting to me that I’m not that bad now. But I think I will continue to have a hard time until I know about whether or not there’s further cancer.

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Eclipses

Because of the upcoming solar eclipse next month there’s been a lot of interest.  Two friends sent me the link to Maria Popova’s Marginalian on Annie Dillard’s description of an eclipse.  Annie Dillard is one of my favorite authors, but this is one I had missed.  O my!  She even notices the metallic color of the grass!  She sees more than I did. 

My experience of a solar eclipse is the combination of two eclipses.  The first one, July 20, 1963, crossed the state of Maine.  The zone of totality was on the far side of Penobscot Bay.  We parked the car up on a hillside where we had a beautiful view.  I had welder’s glass for safely looking at the sun.  I watched the sun shrink to a crescent — and then the clouds came and covered it.  I began to cry.  And then — the light went out of the clouds.  Suddenly where we were standing was dark as night.  The birds all got quiet, the streetlights went on.  Where we were was night, but across the bay we could see the sun rays still coming down on the town of Camden.  Then, in the northwest, I could see the light coming again as the shadow went on its journey, and daylight returned.  It was like some huge prehistoric creature had flown over the clouds.

The second eclipse was in 1972, on July 10, and the zone of totality went over Prince Edward Island.  I was living in Portland, Maine.  I drove to Bar Harbor to take the ferry to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia.  The ferry left before dawn, and I could see the waning crescent moon above where the sun would rise.  Drove the length of Nova Scotia to the strait between Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island.  There’s a bridge now, but then there was only the ferry.  I camped out for one night, don’t remember whether in PEI or Nova Scotia.  The next day I went to the beach on the north side of the island.  Every dune was sprouting with telescopes.  I had my welder’s glass.  There were no clouds in the sky.  Again I watched the sun shrink to a crescent.  With an almost audible POP! there was suddenly a black circle with a glowing halo around it where the sun had been.  A chorus of OOOOHHHS! sounded from the beach.  Again we were in night.  Again I could see the shadow moving across the water towards us. Suddenly, there was the sun again and we were back from night to daytime.

For the eclipse next month, Hanover is just outside the zone of totality.  I have signed up for a bus to take a group of us to St. Johnsbury.  The probability that it will be cloudy is 70%, but knowing that unless the clouds are very thick we will still see the shadow convinced me to sign up.  It’s worth seeing.

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