Tag: oneness

Awakened Goddess

Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger

Last month, October 24 was Global Oneness Day, an online event created by Humanity’s Team and growing larger with each passing year. Speakers such as Jean Houston and Riane Eisler talked of a renaissance of oneness consciousness all over the planet and of historically suppressed feminine energy emerging through both women and men. The world balance is shifting from otherness to inclusion; from power over to power within, shared with all peoples. The time of the goddess has come.

In the feminist movement of the 1970s and 1980s, the goddess was often invoked in the form of Gaia, or Mother Earth, and the divine feminine, whose power and presence had been written out of patriarchal religions. We looked to heretofore-disregarded female attributes such as emotion, intuition, compassion, tenderness, and unconditional love as those that would help to heal the violence and separation of a male-dominated paradigm. We envisioned a transformation in consciousness itself, from either/or to both/and—the end of battling opposites. Our visions and voices were often ridiculed and undermined, but slowly shifts began to take place.

Today, we are seeing a new wave of awareness sweeping through the world. Both men and women are acknowledging the importance of female energy, infused with gentleness and empathy instead of dominance and hierarchy. Yet the soft but powerful divine feminine is an energetic essence not to be underestimated in its ability to shatter obstacles and redefine so-called human nature. Look at Diana Nyad, who at 64 years of age defied skeptics and swam 103 miles from Cuba to Florida in 53 hours, after multiple failed attempts. Her mantra, “find a way,” was pure goddess. Then there’s 16-year-old Malala Yousafzai, who was shot in the head by the Taliban because she spoke out against banning education for girls in Pakistan. After a miraculous recovery, she continued her activism, including addressing the United Nations on education for all children in July of this year. Again, goddess energy personified.

Many new thought leaders are also challenging old limitations in their visions of what is possible for women and men. Thirty-five-year-old spiritual catalyst Panache Desai (who often refers to himself humorously as a “goddess in disguise”) speaks of the necessity for addressing shadow aspects of the patriarchy that we have internalized (need for control, “better than” attitudes, intimidation/bullying), so that we can embrace the divine feminine and come into masculine/feminine balance and harmony within ourselves. Strength combined with compassion in each person. Whole human beings meeting whole human beings on equal footing and experiencing oneness. This is the long-held dream, being expressed and embodied by men as well as women in this post-2012 era.

A couple of weeks ago, I had an exceptionally vivid dream of an old abandoned church being torn down by a demolition crew and the steeple toppling into my back yard, crashing into an altar of crystals, stones, and tapestries I had created there. I rushed into the yard, only to find a young man in a dancer’s leotard with a colorful scarf around his neck carefully picking up pieces of crystals and placing them on the grass. Could there be a more obvious symbolic representation of the fall of patriarchy, the end of all previous paradigms, and the birth of something entirely new, with only small crystalline reflections of our inner shining souls to guide us? What is on the horizon is unlike anything that has come before. We are truly standing on the edge of greatness: the full flowering of our authentic selves, unpolarized, unlimited, and free. May the all-encompassing love of the goddess open our hearts to infinite possibility and global oneness.

Field of Dreams

Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
The Republicans hate the Democrats, and the Democrats hate the Republicans. There are divisions within both political parties. The American people blame one side or the other, or they blame the President. Or the immigrants. Someone is always blaming someone else for something. There are real injustices and inequities that need to be addressed and resolved in this country—can’t it be done without hatred and name-calling?

We are living through Judgment Day. Not God’s judgment of us, but our own judgments of one another. What can possibly come of judgment except more judgment? Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, we are lost, wandering through the forest of our own separation. There is no wizard or wicked witch or emerald city, and the flying monkeys and munchkins are our brothers and sisters. Close your eyes, click your heals together, and the illusion disappears. There is no place like home, and this planet is our home. This universe is our home. And every person we meet is family.

Can we open our hearts and surrender our judgments to that profound realization? Maybe the key is to look inside ourselves to where we are judging ourselves. Love and acceptance of others begins with loving and accepting our own humanness. What parts of our identity are warring against other parts of our identity, angry and abusive? Are we turning our inner turmoil outward? At the deepest level, our souls see no separation, within or without. All is infinite spirit, existing in spacious loving acceptance. Individuals who have journeyed beyond this lifetime to death and returned to tell about it (Eben Alexander, Anita Moorjani) confirm this truth. Though not in a near-death experience, I too have been to that place of infinite love, without separation. No you or I, just oneness.

Perhaps we are here on Earth to have the experience of separation, realize it, and then consciously return to oneness. Perhaps the tipping point is closer than we think. In times of great fear or disaster (hurricanes, bombings, mass shootings), people drop their otherness and reach out to one another with compassion and love. Isn’t it possible to live like that every day? How many crises do we have to endure before we recognize our common humanity?

The other day, as I was walking down a Boston street on my way to the dentist, I passed a homeless woman holding out a styrofoam cup for change. Her oversize sweatshirt read “Field of Dreams.” I went by her, thought twice, and then reached into my pocket for my wallet. Turning back around, I saw her also turning and walking toward me, as if she knew my thoughts. As I placed a dollar bill in her cup, our eyes met and she said, “Bless you. May it return to you a thousandfold.” I smiled and blew her a kiss as I walked away. That 30-second exchange opened my heart completely and lifted my spirits for the entire day. For a moment, we both stood in that field of dreams together, no separation. May I remember, may we all remember, that that field is always present. We need only open our hearts to see it.

Standing with the Trees

Photograph © 2006 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2006 Peggy Kornegger

A few weeks ago, millions of Turkish citizens took to the streets in massive demonstrations throughout the country, protesting an increasingly authoritarian government. The event that triggered public outrage: police use of violence against activists who were sitting in trees in Istanbul’s Gezi Park to prevent their being cut down. Government plans to demolish both the trees and the park—in addition to turning nearby Taksim Square into a shopping mall—pushed people to the breaking point. The trees are some of the only ones remaining in the city, and the square is one of the last places for public gatherings.

Many other issues have been on the rise in Turkey, but it was the threat of forced separation from nature and from one another that was the people’s “last straw.” Trees have once again become a symbolic focal point in human awareness. The crowds gathered in Gezi Park and Taksim Square were standing up, not for an abstract environmental cause, but for the quality of their own daily lives. For the right to see green trees outside their door, for the right to meet with their neighbors in a public space not based in consumerism. Those who joined them in the streets throughout Turkey acted with deep human empathy both for their cause and for the physical suffering they endured. These protests continue.

Nearly 16 years ago, Julia Hill Butterfly took a similar stand—and endured helicopter harassment and repeated attempts to break her resolve—when she lived for two years in a 1500-year-old California redwood to prevent it being killed by a lumber company that was clear-cutting the redwood trees. Julia’s selfless actions have influenced countless others, including those who may not even know her name.

These courageous individuals were standing in the deeper truth of their oneness with all living beings, with all life. They were surrendering to a greater Spirit, or Intelligence, within them, which moved them beyond reason, beyond even personal safety, to live their lives fully aligned with the source of life itself. Nothing else mattered. They were not thinking; they were acting from their hearts. And this is the energy that is rising more and more powerfully in the world, infusing us with hope and possibility.

In many spiritual traditions, the tree of life symbolizes the entire cosmos and our place in it. The Maya of Guatemala consider the ceiba tree sacred, and the day Aaj in the Maya calendar stands for trees and abundance. On this day, the Maya pray for harmony and for the resurgence of nature. Their prayers, from their hearts, connect to each action, each word spoken, in their daily lives. We are being called to live similarly now, aligning our heart’s truth with how we are present in the world moment to moment. We each have countless opportunities to be in harmony with something greater than our own individual lives. Can we humans at long last stand within the circle of life instead of outside it?

Julia Hill Butterfly and the people of Turkey inspire me to believe that it is possible. And the trees themselves inspire me. Each day when I look out the window at the tall maple trees in my back yard, I am filled with reassurance that life continues, that just as the trees stand strong and tall, while at the same time bending with the winds of change, we too can do the same.

For the Love of Bees

Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger
Now that winter is over in New England, and spring bulbs are blooming in my garden, I am filled with sweet anticipation for the coming months of summer flower abundance. My life has increasingly revolved around the change of seasons since I moved to a house with a yard a few years ago. Although I have always filled my apartments with houseplants, I had never really gardened outdoors before. I read up on which flowers and bushes would bring butterflies and birds to the garden and slowly began to learn how to become a “midwife” to plant life.

Soon, butterflies and birds did indeed begin to frequent the flowers and bushes in my yard. Unexpectedly, though, it was the bees that completely stole my heart. I discovered that there were at least 5 or 6 different kinds that visited the flowers, including honeybees and bumblebees. I watched them all and learned more all the time, just by observing their behavior. The evening that I discovered a bumblebee curled up for the night on the petals of one of my zinnias, I fell in love. I felt such tenderness, as if it were my own child.

Over the weeks and months, I found that bumblebees also “slept” on blanket flowers, bachelor buttons, pincushion flowers, sedum, cosmos, and the butterfly bush. Their most interesting bed, however, was the 6-foot-tall Joe Pye weed, which has large clustered fluffy pink blossoms. In the late evening, I would often find 8 or 9 bees on the different levels of flower clusters, snuggled into their own down comforters. When it rained, they would hang beneath the flower clusters, using them as umbrellas while they rested.

In the mornings, if it was cool or damp, the bees would often “sleep in” until the sun warmed the air. Sometimes I would see a bumblebee slowly stretching its legs, one by one, as if limbering up after its night’s immobility. I always wished them good morning and good night, and I believe they were aware of my presence as a “friend,” occasionally buzzing up to my face in greeting. I’ve had butterflies behave in a similar fashion, sometimes even landing on my chest or arm to sit in the sun. It was a beautiful life lesson about the conscious intelligence of all beings.

Bees, which many people hardly notice, provide irreplaceable support to the cycles of life on Earth by pollinating the flowers. The massive deaths of honeybees and bumblebees in recent years have been heartbreaking. The probable cause: pesticides and herbicides used by agribusiness, landscapers, and often homeowners as well. It is my hope that people will begin to understand the wisdom and urgent necessity of gardening and eating organically, for the health of our bodies, our planet, and all the creatures that inhabit it. You only have to fall in love with one flower, one tree, one animal, or one bee to feel the interconnectedness of all life. In one(ness) is the survival of all.

Note: A reader has reminded me that GMOs are another likely culprit in the collapse of bee colonies. Thus the key importance of the current consumer campaign against GMOs in the U.S. For more information, visit: http://www.organicconsumers.org/bees.cfm.

Peace, Love, and Extreme Fear

Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
Is it possible to remain peaceful when you are faced with extremely frightening events? Can you feel fear and peace simultaneously? And hold love in your heart through it all? More and more, we are living the answers to questions like these. In Massachusetts, where I live, during the 2013 Boston Marathon, residents found themselves in the midst of a terrorist drama that dragged on for five days. As fate would have it, I was away from home, on retreat with Panache Desai in Florida, during that exact time period. Within the group of 46 people from all over the world, there were several of us from Massachusetts.

We first heard the news about the explosions at the Boston Marathon when the daughter of one couple phoned her parents in tears. Remembering with a terrible sinking feeling that my partner was at the marathon, I left the session to phone her. Finally, I got through and cried with relief upon hearing her voice. In the days that followed, those of us from Massachusetts kept in touch with loved ones back home, supported by the deep caring of others in the group, many of whom knew firsthand about living with political unrest and violence in their own countries. Panache himself grew up in London, where bombings were an ongoing part of life.

During the course of the week, together we held a space of peace, love, and compassion for those in Boston as well as for those elsewhere in the world who face terrorism, violence, and gut-wrenching fear. True, we were one step removed from the events in Boston, but because many of us had family and friends there, the fear was very real for all of us. Each day brought some new painful piece to assimilate. On Friday, when I learned that pursuit of the two suspected bombers was taking place less than a mile from my home, I once again felt adrenaline course through my system. On the phone, my partner told me that the entire city was under lockdown, and she could hear helicopters flying low over the house, searching the area. It was surreal—and frightening. Yet, even in the midst of it, she and I found we were able to remain relatively calm and centered. “Breathe,” she said to me. “I’m here. I’m okay in this moment.”

And that’s how we got through the week, one breath, one moment, at a time. Feeling everything and letting it flow through our bodies. All of us in Panache’s group were experiencing our various individual fears and pain within the larger spaciousness we had opened ourselves to—allowing instead of resisting what had occurred in the past and what was unfolding in the present. I’ve found such a deep wisdom in that process. For me, it means being open to every part of life—embracing it all, every exquisite or excruciating minute. Within that embrace is a peace that helps me to live my life with less suffering and tension, even in the middle of frightening or upsetting circumstances.

Back home in Boston, I was especially moved by the stories of those who stepped forward to help others during the explosions and by the community spirit that flowed within and toward Boston from individuals and groups across the country and around the world. A One Fund was established to help those most affected by what occurred. One, oneness—it was empathy and heart-felt love that people were feeling. May that love continue to expand, and may we peacefully heal the separation that gives rise to violence.

“The greatest gift that you can offer our planet is the gift of your peace.”—Panache Desai