I spent the end of last week sensing something stirring within while troubled to find my brain wouldn't work. As hard as I tried, I could not think clearly. I could hardly think at all. I felt myself internally scurrying about panicked, fearing I was loosing what was just beneath the surface and that whatever it was would enter Memory's black hold (I accidentally wrote hold but meant hole) to forever vanish.
Then Friday I realized it was that time again. This explained a lot. I'm a woman of 52 still having an occasional period. There's something deeply satisfying about bleeding yet despite knowing better, I resist the accompanying changes a couple of days preceding this now bi or tri-monthly cycle. My energy fails as does my brain. Highly stimulating places like the grocery or just being inside my own skin can feel overwhelming.
Upon finally surrendering, I realized that when I resist letting go and struggle against my flow I'm no different from the patriarchy or men in power trying to maintain control. When I choose action over being and use force over mindful stillness, I'm no different from the line of men in powerful positions who seem to need to wage war of some sort. The war I wage is within.
When I force my path rather than stopping to sit and listen, I'm no different from the Cheney's and Rumsfeld's who at least as far as I can tell aren't open to Mystery but need to put everything into boxes of us vs. them for ego and financial gain.
When I resist, it's me versus the Mystery, the Mystery that when I stop struggling and listen always reveals something that in that moment that I need to hear.
When I finally surrendered early the evening of Friday the 13th, I began my day over again. The day hadn't started as usual. I allowed an 8:00am meeting to preempt my morning routine. Finally on Friday evening I sat down with my journal and the written material with which I usually start each day.
I seldom have a plan for what gets written in my journal and this night was no different. I opened the cover and spontaneously wrote, "Why do I hesitate writing what I know?"
Without effort, the answer immediately came. I am concerned with being questioned. I sensed some unknown authority demanding information of me. I wrote in response, "I know it in my body as sure as I'm breathing and writing. I know through my body and soul yet what I know for me doesn't have to be for you. What do you know in your body?"
In the moment this didn’t make sense yet it was what showed up on my internal radar as I sat in the quiet and listened. I then read the information for Friday the 13th and learned this date was initially associated with the feminine and Friday was originally named after the planet Venus from the Norse tradition whose primary goddess was Freya. Friday was Freya's day. In ancient times 13 was the sacred number of the Goddess. Then political and church leaders wanting to increase their power and control associated Friday the 13th with bad luck to separate the people from the feminine and the goddess.
Not only did I learn Friday the 13th was originally a good day, but that the French Templars on a Friday the 13th in 1307 were arrested on this day and eventually questioned and killed. Reading about the Templars brought a sudden sense of ease to my entire body and being that I had not had all day.
Since going to France I've sensed I had a connection with the Templars be it a life with them long past or a present day sensitivity to their experience. The next morning I awoke seeing five or six scrolls in a stack and later knew I had been part of the Templar experience in some way that was connected to the feminine.
Days later I am mindful of the Mystery unfolding in me and in this Time. I think of Memory’s black hole and what we as humankind have collectively placed there through repression and fear over time. I imagine all that has been split off from consciousness and disconnected from like the fear of the feminine from hundreds of years past.
What was it the church fathers feared? What is it men in power so fear today? How is it my own fear and discomfort keep me from personally slowing down to deeply listen and connect? In my unconscious busyness what do I repress?
I imagine all that has been placed in Memory’s black hole as being like a seed growing over time, awaiting us in this Time. I imagine this period in which we’re now living as the time for us as Earth gardeners to gently water this seed with tears of joy and sorrow and like the sun coax it forth with the warmth of love.
This is the time of Mystery moving over and through Memory’s black hole calling forth through us the Mystery of Love wanting to grow in this time, a Love that redeems, forgives and joyfully celebrates.
As I wrote in my journal a week ago, this is what I know in my body and soul. What do you know, not in your mind, but in your body on the inside as truth for you in this time? What have you contributed to Memory’s black hole desiring now to emerge?
Imagine the Shift of honoring what is planted within and allowing it to grow forth in the Mystery of this Time.
-Dawn, The Good News Muse 20 January 2012