It’s a lovely, sunny late winter day here in Toronto. The fire of Brigid seems to be shining through.
On Saturday, Steven and I hosted a Soirée Musicale in our home. Thirty-seven of us enjoyed music, wine, food, and each other’s company. Exhausting, but fun!
Yesterday, I was at Daré, the spiritual circle for healing and peacemaking of which I am a member and which I help to host and hold. We heard people’s dreams, ritualised them, did creative expression around them, and held council around them. Particulars would breach the confidentiality of council, but the theme that emerged for many of us was the healing of the wounded sacred masculine. He needs to be morphed from a distant, divisive, bossy, war-monging killer back to a virile, life-giving font of wholeness, protection, and masculine beauty. As many of you know, “God” is no longer a name I give to the Divine. I had quite enough of that and its connotations for decades. Nowadays, I’m more likely to refer to Goddess, Life, Source, Wholeness, the Sacred, the Great Centre, Infinite Mystery, or some other name. It’s important to remember that all of these are just metaphors. As far as I’m concerned, the Divine is a neutral life-giving energy onto which we project all of our best human qualities. And I don’t believe in a so-called devil. That’s just us projecting our worst onto the same life force and shirking personal resposibility. May we love the war out of men’s bodies and minds. May we love each other enough to remember our innate wholeness.
A blessed Imbolc to all.