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No One’s Far From This Tree

March 23, 2020 in City Matters, Country Matters, Essays, Spirit Matters

Yesterday I called Apple with a few questions about my new Macbook Pro. The rep offered some helpful solutions, and then we began comparing notes about our new O-Corona lives, hers in Kentucky, mine in one of the US hubs of the virus.

At first it was light and breezy but as is almost always true in Life in the Time of COVID-19, the dynamic quickly deepened. She was shocked by how how completely the City That Never Sleeps had shut down and by my casual assumption that I had contracted the virus. Her greatest fear, she confided, was that she’d also contract it. Then she began to sob.

Actually, she said. My greatest fear is that I’ll have to give birth while we’re all still quarantined. She went on to say she had just discovered she was pregnant, which she’d been trying to do for the last five years. There was a pause, in which we both realized just how far we’d conversationally traveled outside the parameters of a standard Applecare call. Then I took a breath.

Ok, I said. We’re going to pray together. So we did–for our health and the health of everyone we loved, which in my case was and always will be everyone. For the spirit in her body who had the temerity to incarnate into the world now. And for all the corporations and institutions to recognize and honor our humanity. After we hung up, I received the standard Applecare survey. Was I satisfied with the quality of the call? Yes, yes, I was.

How We’ll Make It

March 21, 2020 in Ruby Intuition, Spirit Matters, TV Matters

This weekend I’m unwinding with loads of Mary Tyler Moore and no other screens after days of testing a new tarot spread I’ve devised to support us in these out-of-time times.

My corporal self is worn out. I’m on the first day of my periodic table without the now-forbidden ibuprofen and am fighting what I am fairly sure is the Covid-19 virus, though of course there’s no test or healthcare unless I’m at death’s door.

I’m not being alarmist: I’ve been exposed to at least two people who were exposed to people who tested positive; I’ve had a low fever and a sore threat for days; and I’m fairly certain many New Yorkers are already positive, though this doesn’t mean we should abandon social distancing. Nor am I being casual about my self-diagnosis: I’ve taken zinc, vitamins, hot salt baths; gargled hot salt water; inhaled broth and tons of hot liquids. Prayed and meditated. Isolated. Honestly this is not a plea for help. More an acknowledgment that this is life now.

I sense I’m already turning a corner, partly because I’m lucky enough to have a strong immune system, and partly because JOJ-she who fixed my back last fall–gave me a remote healing session.

The concept of weekend seems odd, doesn’t it? With the flow of life on hold, the human race is suspended in a collective tesseract, one in which the constructs of linear time do not apply. Right now we don’t belong to the physical world at large. We are not bodies in place and time. Alone together, we are only energy particles to each other, faces on screens, voices in the ether, memes. Why not identify as Nefertiti on her Egyptian throne in 1370 BC? Or Mary Tyler Moore in 1977, blithely breaking through glass ceilings with a tam o’shanter?

On one level we are more exposed than we’ve ever been. Have you ever talked to this many people while in your PJS? Have your coworkers ever before seen your home? But we are also malleable, fluid, changelings. Stripped to essences.

Spirits.

To navigate this universal stop-time and stop-motion, we need new and forgotten tools–economically, medically, spiritually, emotionally, politically. We artists, healers, witches—seeers and soothers and sooth-sayers–are well-acquainted with ethereal realms. We know about kairos–the land of soul time that always lives beyond, below and around linear time.

So let us help. We are going to make it after all, but only if we make something new.

What Spring Means Now

March 19, 2020 in Art Matters, Ruby Intuition, Spirit Matters

Today is Ostara, the vernal equinox, the first day of spring. It is the year’s most powerful burst of energy, a magnificent roaring fire. In the pagan and astrological calendars, it is also the first day of the new year—when Mother Earth officially springs back to life. This is more relevant than it has ever been, for we have been mistreating this beautiful planet for so many decades that she has taken it back so that we all may heal. Rather than complain, thank her before you go to bed. Even apologize. Then turn to the heavens and imagine the world you’d like to return to. Imagine how you will fill time when we step back into it. Breathe into that space, ask your highest spirit to help build it out.

Tomorrow, if you have the means, plant a garden. Even one seed will help. We all need beauty and sustenance right now. We all need hope.

In the days to come i will be offering Life in the Time of Covid-19 intuition readings on a pay-what-you-can basis. My own means of support have been suspended by this plague, but no one who is struggling will be turned away. Details to follow, but feel free to reach out now. 

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy