My mood is from time folding, as described in A Wrinkle in Time , a young adult science fantasy novel written by Madeleine L'Engle. The novel was published in the times I'm folding back to, but I'm sure I didn't read it until the end of undergraduate college days, 10 years later. Here's how Wikipedia writers describe L'Engle's tesseract:
In the novel, the tesseract functions more or less like what in modern science-fiction is called a space warp or a wormhole, a portal from one area of space to another which is possible through the bending of the structure of the space-time continuum. This meaning is unrelated to the mathematical notion of a tesseract, a shape analogous to a cube in a space with four spatial dimensions.
of the mathematical concept
|Origami rabbit ear fold.|
What's new in me is awareness of white supremacy, particularly how it shows itself in European and upper-class and male privilege. Back in the 1960s, I was a barely-emerged feminist with a lot of experience trying to have Black community without understanding why I was distrusted. Ha! That's a book waiting to be written. I am still in the process of transforming while learning how to, in Amanda Kemp's words, "hold a space for transformation to occur."
What's new out there is (1) the area of the world hardest hit by hatred and extremism, and (2) social media which spreads video and words almost at once. The USA otherwise is much the same, with less opportunity and more contradictory and often fake news. There are too many words obscuring truth. What cuts through it at all is youth--once again, youth--this time the issues may still be categorized under freedom of speech, but much more is at stake. This includes our democracy and two-party system.
I am relieved to be 50 years older and no longer a leader. At any moment, I can go online and find several ways to be involved praying on my feet. I am relieved to be less impulsive and innocent, to be waiting on direction from God, to be willing to speak in spirit language that includes my faith and expresses faithfulness. I am relieved to have support in faith that doesn't measure faithfulness in terms of religion.
On this Saturday noon, I'm sitting home and listening to the old songs. I wrote a poem earlier: "Morning After," and yesterday: "Writing Into Transformation," and wrote this reflection today. That's more than I've written for a while, so I feel more satisfied today than I have been able to for a while. I'm sending this to Jennifer Elam, my writing partner, who is far away in Doha, Qatar for two months of awakening and health. While she is gone from February through April, I have given myself a writing retreat, an imperative and joyous permission to work on my novel. This is as close as I've come. I'm trying to be grateful for what I can do instead of frustrated that everything I've learned is just a beginning. Though I suppose it's better to have everything beginning than ending. Oh, yes, beginning is a gift. Each day we wake is a gift. I want to live it with complete awareness of God's presence, the meaning of the life of Jesus.
I'll write more as way opens.