So...I was telling you that Kali is doing something to me.
%#&@ if I know. But it's one of those awakenings...some of them, to quote the old druggie adage, are long, strange trips, others are like being shot out of an atomic cannon...I've struggled like Hell to deprogram myself from that abrahamic idiocy which proclaimeth that I am fundamentally screwed up and so all spiritual growth must come from self-sacrifice...and from that western intellectual idiocy that says "they" already know all that's worth knowing and so it's all about me and the random experiences I can accumulate before my neurons blink out from oxygen starvation...so in this cannon-shot phase I feel like I am finally living the full antithesis of those old mind-cancers, feeling myself becoming lovable, beginning to see my own beauty...it sounds horrifically Oprah, I know, but it is so bitterly hard-won no earth-made blade could scratch it...
and all this from my attempts to create a life based on the dubious sometimes, still, notion that there is some big, nice Girl up there in the sky who loves me and watches over me...but damned if She doesn't infiltrate my reality in the most startling ways. Spring, here in Stonewall, is always dramatic, but I've never felt it the way I've felt it this year, and I've never been so alive to the Divine Mother's upwelling presence in the world. I've never been so conscious of an intelligence outside myself that is somehow orchestrating my life without my consent or understanding, like Martha Beck's Bunraku puppeteers. I think I'll just quote from my journal for a bit:
This springtime...has bloomed within me as a warm, languorous jungle of sensuality. I see Kali blooming in every flower, in spiral psychedelia of pollen in parking-lot puddles, in the pollen-hazed light, in emerald green of trees, in amethyst wisteria drooping like exhausted lovers from aching branches...Laura calls this "the Vision of Love."
"You've had the Vision of Sorrow," she said, "and now the Vision of Love, and both are equally valid--but which do you prefer?"
Obviously Love--but Her point was, "You have to stay in this. You can't go back to love as insecurity or selfish desire. You can't go back to trading love for acceptance and validation. You have to live in this Love as all there is, you have to participate in it. If you do, the Vision of Love is its own reward."
Kali prompts me: I get in the car yesterday to go have lunch with a co-worker, and music from Parsifal is on the radio; on the way home it's a pop song about angels and letting love in. I grab a cup of coffee after a sleepless, visionary night, and Laura's kabbalistic number is on the receipt, along with the cashier's name: Angel. Except I glimpsed the cashier's name tag, and it said Carolyn or Catherine or something, not Angel.
And, oh Goddess, right now I am listening to the most dramatic Sarah McLachlan song and feeling the most impossibly dramatic shakti surges within...I've joked with Sophia about spending most of my Paris sojourn weeping in some cathedral pew, bow'd before a rose window of Her unfolding, beautiful in its grace and terror...this is such a random post, I know, and in a way I wish it were simpler, that my life, that I were simpler...but I guess I need all 69 dimensions. All the ocean spray, tang of blood, sting of bourbon, cushiony soil flavor of truffles...bitter herbs, chocolate macaroons...all of She Whose love is better than ice cream...