This too, is Goddess

The night is dark. Rain is palpating, a remnant of one hurricane that tore through Texas has landed on my door. On the distant horizon, another powerful hurricane approaches the East Coast; said to be “the worst storm in U.S. history.”  Wild fires rage along the West Coast. We have seen homes burn, floods destroy the livelihood of many, and it is likely another hurricane will do the same. 

Wisdom teacher Pema Chödrön writes, “Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth.”  That is really what this is about, fear. The fear that we will lose what we have worked so hard to call our own. Our identity, our stake in the sand, be it home, security, our “American dream.” Fear that we might be swept away in an instant.  Fear is a very real sensation, but so isn't being alive; and every bit what it means to be awake is an invitation to being closer to truth. 

As images of hurricanes scroll over the TV, what I see is the Earth reminding us that we don’t have control, only possibility. I know that is a hard thing to imagine- possibility. But I also don’t see something fearful, instead  I see truth.  What might it be like to allow permission for truth. The truth is that everything manifests in a cycle that is sometimes wonderfully bountiful and other times painfully barren. That the more we hold on to the stake in the sand, the less likely we are to actually be free. Maybe the hurricane is actually the Goddess- reminding us of stagnation and inviting us to move towards freedom. And it's going to be ok. 

I am not saying She is any one named deity, but instead this Goddess is more. She is the totality that brings the destruction in order the make space for the new. She is that which moves in, among, around and through. Like the old saying goes, "the only way out is through." She is that. And even though humanity has been reckless, this resonance we know as Goddess is still generative in a rebalancing of dharma not retribution.  

Once upon a time, the Goddess looked out into great expanse of blackness, and caught a glimpse of Her own reflection. She was so taken by the beauty of what could be, that she fell in love, and made love to herself. It was there, not in fear but in love that the first spiral took shape. In that eye of the storm, the spark of all creation manifested, alone, awesome and complete within Herself.  In times of fear, we can cling towards the stagnation of fear- or lean into the spiral of Mother, towards the generative space that impermanence offers and know love. Love is truth that remains after the storm clouds dissipates. 


Works Sited: 

Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times. Pg. 78

Image: NASA, Public Domain