I’ve been crying a lot lately. Being of an analytical nature, I try to figure out why.
There are plenty of reasons if I really need one. I just saw the latest Beagle Freedom Project video, the #11 freeing of beagles from a laboratory in the Midwest. Now this is a happy occasion for these dogs are now free. Some have been most of their lives there, one for seven unimaginable years. I cry. Out of sadness, out of joy. But mostly because of the sickening actions of my fellow human beings. We are the most unnecessarily violent species on the planet. I know the Buddhist side of me is well acquainted with the concept of suffering. And this week, at least, after a long and terrible winter, I want no more of it, no more reminders of man’s inhumanity to animals or Afghanis or Iraqis or people homeless or poor in my own city.
And yet I’ve been reading Andrew Harvey’s Return of the Mother. Savoring it. This morning, I found myself crying as I read. It is exquisite: he works his way through many of the major religions and finds the Goddess, the Mother in them. She is my path and has been since the late 1970’s when some friends and I formed the Coven of the Waxing Crescent. We didn’t really know what we were “doing,” but we knew what we longed for. We were in search of our power and jubilant to discover Z. Budapest and a divinity Who was Female.
And so here I am, sitting on the couch in front of the Blue Kali, taking a journey through World Religions. Ones who appreciate a Goddess. This is almost inexpressible. But I’ll continue to try. After all, I’m the one who named this blog “The Goddess Babe.” Or did I?