So I came home yesterday on the train, which went along a beautiful icy Mohawk River (see above) and I was so captivated by the waters that I just basked in its beauty, and the beauty of all of creation, from the twig-trees (they used to be giant forests but, you know, logging and colonization) and the falling down former brick industry plants and the trailors and the parking lots and the adorable back yards and the landfills with junk and the geese in the streams and the clouds kissing the mountains and the cars polluting our world on the highways - it all looked so precious, so enchanting, from the comfort of the train, because I was filled with a sense of deep peace. And thus, I could see the beauty and the ugliness and have compassion for all of it. So I didn't take out my notebook at all, I just dwelled in that peace. What a world we live in. How lucky are we to be here, even if only briefly. Though sometimes it feels like a very long time indeed.
After coming home, making a fire, singing prayers, and basking in the peace some more, I took out my laptop to write.
About six hours later, I had about a 10-page... letter? essay? missive? Some kind of a written attempt to convey something to you all that is really hard to convey. Peace linked to sisterhood and seeds and healing and babies and filled with stories of amazing men. About how inner and outer peace on this land is directly linked to polishing the silver covenant chain (which most of you might not know anything about because I haven't been talking about it much at all!)
About how peace is linked to returning the sacred to the mother. Which is, as you may know, one of the definitions of rematriation.
Whenever I write something that long, I know it's best not to publish it in some kind of urgent fashion, but rather to let it simmer. Sometime, the first draft is not meant to go out there at all.
So this morning I thought, nope, not going to send that out today.
So much for me making plans for this particular newsletter.
And then I just laughed at myself.
Oh Sara Jolena. You silly one.
Maybe this doesn't have to be all that complicated.
Maybe it's ok to just say:
Hey.
There's big stuff moving.
Inside of us. Our world. You.
This is a time of ReMembering and ReEnchanting.
(Which itself is connected to the much bigger movement of returning the sacred to the Mother.)
Including now, in the midst of the latest version of the apocalypse.
There are so many ways you can go about this work/ministry/calling/service to Life. So many pathways of unlearning and untangling, of relearning and resourcing.
The ReMembering Course is a really powerful one. The Symposium reminded me, again, of how important is the head-heart-spirit, left brain-right brain, decolonial/re-membering work that we do together in the Course. That is why I keep offering it.
Another way is working with me 1-1. There are several different containers for that; I'm going to talk about them during my first spiritual direction informational webinar, which is tomorrow, Wednesday. Of course, it will be recorded, though I really do prefer it if people show up, because all of my webinars are participatory and interactive. Part of the point of the webinar is to get a feel for the thing itself, and I'm not a fan of top-down learning styles. Though yes, I am something of a preacher.
Because small group work is so critical right now, if we have enough interest, Ill start a small group for spiritual direction that leans into both reMembering and Anticipation.
There are other ways, too. With me. With others. With our network.
And.... that's enough for right now.
I'm going to go back to writing and being with people. And dwelling in the Peace. Which is available to all of us.
I hope you have a beautiful week.
Maybe I'll see you tomorrow.
And don't forget: you don't have to do everything all at once.
Especially not when it feels like things keep falling apart all around you.
So many blessings to your own comings and goings and dreams and limitations and discernment -
Sara Jolena
