Just me...talking to you
Thank you for opening this email today- some words from my heart are in here.
It has been two years since I sent a really significant message to this mailing list. I sent out a protection missive in Spring 2020, an update about my activities that Autumn, and then...there was really nothing to say. From 2020 onward it has been a time of quiet and inward focus as our world churned away at our collective condition.
The grief of our global circumstances made it feel inappropriate and inauthentic to send my usual cheerful notes, notifications of sales, announcements for readings and classes, or anything that might be commercial in nature. Instead, I focused on what I could accomplish in terms of helping people with my online meditation practices. I also continued one-on-one sessions and small group classes. I stopped trying to write things that would go out to the wider world. I stopped applying to attend or present at events, and instead only went to a few places where I was specifically invited. I started to spend most of my time each day alone. Without intending to, but just by following my inner guidance, I semi-withdrew from public spaces. I locked down my Instagram account, and stopped posting and interacting as much on Facebook. I kept things afloat where I had to, but otherwise steered clear of many of the spaces online where debates and hostility have demonstrated just how fragmented and incoherent what we call reality has become.
There is spiritual precedent for this kind of withdrawal from the world at large. Retreat offers a precious opportunity for a) self-reflection to happen, and b) the lessons of that self-reflection to be integrated. Retreat is not an escape, however. It is actually meant to ensure that one will face personal and collective shadow, and that afterwards, one will return to the world wiser and clearer, bringing along the benefits of the experience to help others.
In Theravada Buddhism, monks and devotees observe Vassa, a 3-month annual retreat that traditionally takes place during monsoon season in Southeast Asia. It is a time to deepen into spiritual practices when travel and movement are made difficult or impossible by the weather, but worldwide practitioners and laypeople have adopted and adapted it to sometimes being a period of ascetic practices. In Vajrayana Buddhism the traditional duration of retreat to become a Lama is 3 years of solitude or restriction within a very small group of practitioners, with limited to no contact with the outside world. Many traditions have these types of practices that are designed to help the individual be less worldly and more focused on building tender-heartedness (tsewa) and lovingkindness (bodhicitta).
There is such a wealth of wisdom in this activity, but for many people, the practical ability to simply retreat from the world is impossible. We have to work, might have kids, tend aging family members who need us, care for animals, or have other aspects of life that would make it difficult to take off for even 3 days, much less 3 months or 3 years. It seems preposterous that this conflict would exist- that the thing we need the most is the hardest to get- but it does feel that way. I have seen the change in the tension in a mother's shoulders after only 24 hours of uninterrupted self-care time...imagine what 3 years like that could do, but it presents enormous challenges. Who will take care of her children if the mother goes on retreat? What important milestones will she miss if she is away? Taking off for long retreat is not sustainable for many, no matter how beneficial it would be.
So, what will be sustainable for us, in terms of getting what we need in order to be who we want, the bearers of tsewa and bodhicitta? This is the question I have been contemplating as I worked through my last two years of mini-retreat. It's been a time of letting myself feel my feelings and not need to know how to respond to them. There have definitely been escapist moments. And more than once, I have found myself confused and pained by my own emotional reactions to the opinions and actions of others. That frustration is like acid in a bucket- it eats away at you!
Amidst this time of attrition and withdrawal I stepped more fully into devotion for devotion's sake...not for an income, neither for an outcome, nor to win favor, but to simply experience what it means to love unconditionally.
Devotion as in, "I am still here, doing the rites, even though I can't understand why you won't change what's happening."
Devotion as in, "My practice is the best version of me, and I want to inhabit that all the time, not just in ceremony."
Devotion as in, "I am like a a child at a mother's breast, entirely vulnerable and nourished here."
Devotion as in, "If I can catch a glimpse of you in someone with whom I strongly disagree, I will find a way to honor you there."
The change in what I want in my life as a result of this time of devotional semi-retreat is profound. That is why I am writing to you today. I wanted to share this little bit about why you haven't heard from me for a long while, and I want to let you know that I feel my throat opening and my voice coming back. I have some things to say, and my plan going forward is to begin sending emails to this group of people again, sharing about what I am learning, thoughts about what it means to serve as a catalyst and activator in the world that is being born, and tidbits from my divination practice that, after I've seen something come up for the 10th or 100th time in the cards, seem to be universal or at least relatable for many of us.
The communities that are going to thrive and create beauty and sustainability in the post-pandemic world are the ones which care for the vulnerable, develop individual and collective wisdom and strength, and are self-reliant with firm priorities for healing people and the Earth. I want to talk to you about what it means to create that kind of community and self-reliance, wherever you live.
The act of devotion, even if it never receives fireworks in response from an unseen being, purifies the practitioner and becomes the mirror in which one can perceive one's self, as well as one's ego. I want to share with you some thoughts about how to remain committed to tender-heartedness and compassion even when times are difficult.
The imaginary film that seems to separate the worlds of science and magic, or the worlds of spirit and phenomena, is growing thinner by the day. At this point, discussions of astrology, tarot, crystals, candle-burning, and ritual are commonplace in both online and physical spaces. There are so many people sharing inspired visions and fresh perspectives, and there are also a lot of people spiritually bypassing and saying some questionable things. I want to pull apart the layers and investigate these topics with you.
Some of you are here because once upon a time you purchased a crystal from me. Some are here because I've given you a reading. Still others are here because you joined the Goddess Temple. There are a few people here who have been on this journey with me for nearly 20 years, in different forms and different spaces, as well as folks who just signed up last week. So, I wanted to give you all a heads up: I am back. I will be writing to you again, probably once per month. I use two-factor authentication for this newsletter, so you signed up for it on purpose at some point, but there is no pressure to stay if you don't feel aligned anymore- the Unsubscribe button is below.
My newsletter reboot will focus on providing you with thoughtful, reflective content, and eventually I may return to sharing some of my offerings, but I am still feeling my way with that. Constantly being sold something is exhausting. And as a devotee, my job is not to sell you anything- it is to provide you with opportunities to remember who you truly are: one of the stars of the cosmos in human form on Earth, doing your best. Thank you for being here.
With fond greetings, and happy to be back,
Yeshe