As November begins with the days growing dark, the plants giving their all before returning to the ground, and the birds heading back to their winter homes, I think about the seasons in my life.
At seventy-five, I am no longer the young woman starting out, finding herself, and making a name for herself. By this time, I know myself pretty well, yet this season seems to be calling me into something new, something without a name that feels even more deeply embedded in my being.
I tell myself that a chapter will end when my book is published this month. I feel myself teetering on the edge of something new and exciting. I would have expected that at my age, when most of my friends have retired or slowed down, I would sit back on my laurels and enjoy. But that does not seem like the energy I feel coursing through my body.
A few nights ago, I dreamed about my soon-to-be-published book and saw it as the baby that Chris and I created together. I realized that the gestation has taken years, but the birth is imminent. However, I also understood that once published, I will be letting the book out in the world and will no longer have control over where it goes or how it will find its way. I need to trust that it will go where it needs to go.
In another dream, I was told I needed to see the chaos and shattering in our world as a birth, not a death. Granted, so many of the primary foundational institutions of our culture are falling apart. There is likely no way to put these structures back together because the underlying principles — the idea that success in this world is about money and power over others — were unsustainable.
Day after day, we become aware of aspects of the culture we had unconsciously accepted as acceptable. It is time to wake up and not allow ourselves to stay asleep to what no longer serves. Most of us already knew these basic principles, but we often looked to the outside, hoping someone else could fix the disastrous consequences of falling asleep. In the coming years, we will likely watch more devastation from climate change, migration, inequality, and the poor treatment of women and children. The structures are falling, and there is no quick fix.
My book is called “a memoir of awakening,” and my hope is that it will inspire the reader to wake up and find their own spirit and body alignment. I know that this feels like too little to do when the day’s events are so catastrophic, but without finding our alignment in this new season, we can’t steer the ship. We may not know where we are going, but if we are aligned, the energies will take us where we have to go.
In this season, I feel like my work is to gather my people, the lightworkers, the awakened ones who have the strength to stay grounded and weather the storms, not losing track of the need to remember that we are one, that we are not separate from the land, that we are not separate from each other. I trust that we can remember profound truths we have forgotten and grow through the darkness into a season of building the new, whatever that will be.
What is your work in this new season?