01/29/2018
Monday morning meditation brings more detachment from the emotional ride through this land of my decaying nation. I ponder the wisdom or the necessity(?)of exposing myself to the travesty of injustice and inequality everywhere visible in the patriarchy gone mad. If I pay no attention to these conditions and stay focused on my own work, and supporting the women and men who are working for good, I believe that grace will lift us up. Meantime, what is being asked of me here?
Can I hold my sacred container of conscious freedom amidst the flailing helplessness and rage that my dying, timid self feels? How is my inner state being reflected in this outer reality of homelessness, deportation and ecological violence as cultural norms are destroyed in their current forms? How much letting go is mine to do?
I get a clue from the prayerful request my Beloved made of me at the waterfall as we sat in the sounds of falling water and sweet fragrance of surrender in the damp redwood forest. "My request is that you speak your thoughts...your requests...your needs..with clear and forthright energy so they can be heard." The inner injustice and inequity to myself is perpetuated in withholding my voice . So many women like me, have yet to discover that the world may rush over us, but we can stay in touch with our own needs and act out of empowered will. I may only be one voice, but when I advocate for myself in this mess of awakening, I may inspire another voice...and we will together rise above this display of power over...into the assurance of power within.