Explorations in reality

stepping into the cosmic heart

I am most comfortable holding opposites.

I am in my natural domain when I straddle worlds, one foot in one truth, the other foot in a completely different truth.

Even when I am devoted to a path, a teaching, a guru, or a system, I am difficult (if not impossible) to pin down. I can only focus for so long on a concept before the shoes of it begin to feel too tight and I toss them off and run barefoot toward expansion, the next thought, the upside-down of it.

I have always been this way.

I don’t like for my shoes, my pants, my ponytail holders, or my beliefs to be restrictive.

I used to call myself a spiritual explorer, and I think what I meant by that was, I like to consider and play with all of the different things that might be true. I am open to navigating a variety of ideas about life trying them on for size. I am, at the same time, wildly imaginative and deeply skeptical. I am floating somewhere in the cosmos and rooted to the earth at the same time.

If you asked the people closest to me, they might describe me as stubborn. It’s a fact that don’t like it when people tell me what to do, who I should be, or what I should believe. But it is also a fact that I love to move around in belief. I love to listen to philosophers and theologions and scientists and poets. I love to examine theories and stories about who we are and why we’re here. I like to experiment with wonder and magic, and mystery doesn’t bother me.

I have been called, also by the people closest to me, intense. I can see that, but I can also see how I hold on loosely to most things. I am filled to the brim with contradictions and questions and strange, beloved experiences. Being a human is often messy and painful, but it is also beautiful and hilarious. And it is all of those things all at once.

Last week, when I saw the video of the woman in Penzey’s Spices (great spices, by the way) burst into tears when she saw Kamala Harris, I felt it in my solar plexus. She wasn’t crying because of hero worship. She wasn’t crying because she sees VP Harris as some sort of supehero who has come to save us. She was crying because we have been through it. We’ve been holding on by the skin of our teeth through Trump and Covid and January 6 and the loss of our reproductive rights and incredible violence. (And some of us, many of us, didn’t make it.) We’ve been white knuckling this harsh transformational energy. We are scared and we are worn out.

When Americans vote in November, we’re doing something we’ve never done before. We’re making a decision about something much larger and more important than politics. When we elect Harris/Walz to office, life will not suddenly become rainbows and unicorns, but we will be able to take a breath and gather ourselves for the journey forward.

Ten, twenty, fifty years from now, life in this country and life on this planet will not resemble life now, and collectively, we find ourselves once again at a crucial turning point on the map.

I am not an astrologer, but I rely on astrologers to put shape around the energies I’m experiencing. When I’m trying to figure out what’s going on, I listen to astrologers and chaos organizes itself. The astrology of right now is…big.

Pluto, a planet that transforms everything it touches, entered into Capricorn in 2008, where it has been rocking and rolling and forcing us to acknowledge fiscal and structural transformations (breakdowns,) look at supremacies and the distribution of wealth, and whether or not we trust institutions.

The planet makes its official transition into the sign of Aquarius on November 19, and will stay there until 2043. This is real power to the people energy, and for me personally - with my sun and moon in Aquarius and Capricorn rising - it’s a lot.

When I think about my life since 2008 I can scarcely recognize myself and all the different selves I’ve been - my appearance, my body, my work, my employment, my beliefs, my face, my daily routines, the art I make, my relationships - everything about me has been on a roller coaster ride of change and loss, but also opportunity.

As a result, I find myself thinking a lot about reality and what it is and what it isn’t. These past eight years or so, reality has felt horrific and cartoonish at the same time. I have some ideas about why that is.

I have some ideas about who and what we are and what we’re doing here, and I’ve formulated those ideas about the collective through the individual lens of my personal experience. My story is not your story, but when we tell one another our stories, we see ourselves in one another, we find the puzzle pieces we’ve been missing. We notice how light refracts differently through different pieces of glass. We put form to the formless.

When I lie down to sleep at night, there is a voice that speaks to me inside my head. I would love to think of this voice as a mushroom spirit or an alien or the Archangel Gabriel, because that would be more fun, but honestly, the voice is just me. It has been talking a lot in these recent weeks, about spiritual philosphy and politics and human existence. The nature of reality.

And I’ve decided to give that voice a platform beyond my dark head in the dark of the night. I’m going to let that voice write a book but I’m going to write it here, on Substack. (Yes - I’m still working on my novel - I’m a multiple projects at once sort of creature.)

I’m calling it Cosmic Heart but I’ll be honest with you - I have no idea why or what that means. It’s the title that came to me, so I’m going with it.

You may wonder what qualifies me to write such a thing - a big spiritual manifesto and memoir about psychic phenomenon and cultural ideology. Am I channeling spirit guides? Do I have a degree in history? Have I studied metaphysics or even stayed awake during a political science class?

No. (Well, I don’t know, jury is still out on the spirit guide thing, but) what qualifies me to write this is that I’ve been living it. I’ve been a weird person on shifting planet for a long time and I have some theories. I’ve also been absolutely crushed by Pluto in Capricorn - wrung out and pressed like a panini (I would like to think that I’m at least a delicious panini, but I doubt it) - and what I’ve discovered in the emptiness of the crush is an unrelenting desire to let this voice have its way and find its audience.

Most everything I write and share here is free to read and will always be free to read.

But I’m going to be publishing Cosmic Heart to paid subscribers. I hope that might be you. I long for it to be you, but if it isn’t you, that’s also awesome, and you won’t be left out of the Creative Living Diaries conversation and community because if there’s one thing that never changes, it’s the fact that I hop onto the internet and type!

Paid subscribers, you are like angels to me. I’m so grateful for you. My dream is to be a full-time writer and you wave to me from that future and give me the love I need to keep going. I’m sharing this book (it’s going to be a book, even though right now it’s a voice in my head) with you because I trust that we’re in the same spaceship, you know? I hope you enjoy it. I really, truly hope that you do.

P.S. If you feel that you are the audience for Cosmic Heart but you can’t swing a paid subscription, please reach out. I won’t bite. I mean, I will bite, but I won’t bite you.