Author Archives: Judith


Last year before the pandemic changed everything, I was on my yearly pilgrimage to Charlottesville, VA. We had had a fine Dream Quest, dreaming our Soul’s Purpose –delighting in the sisterhood Dream Quest dependably ushers in. I took the commuter train to DC and settled into my commuter type hotel and spent the afternoon in the Museum of African American History and a stroll to the Lincoln Memorial. I was feeling a bit under the weather, wondering whether I had caught that virus we had begun hearing about, so my wandering through the empty expanses of official Washington DC was slow. It was an unseasonably warm day in winter. The reflecting pool was emptied and the trees and grasses were the color of East Coast February– a bland, slightly pink shade of beige. There were few people on the Metro and even in the most wonderful museum.

I reflected on the 4 long years of Trump’s presidency. It wasn’t hard to lay the empty, slighly dystopian vibe I was experiencing at the feet of his dismal failures.

I was buoyed by the magnificence of the Museum. It is such an immersive rendering of the African American experience, history, suffering, endurance and exhuberant survival. I have thought of the museum many times this year as BLM exploded on the streets this summer, seeking to remember how it traced MLK’s arc of history and came out hopeful.

On the fifth floor of the museum, there is a balcony with a good view of the Capitol. A friend had told me that it was a perfect place to offer prayers for all that goes on in that temple of democracy. I spent a long while praying for miracles of progressive legislation, praying for whoever the Democratic candidate would be. Last February, before everything changed, we had no idea who that would be.

I walked the very long way to Lincoln, sat with him a while, listened to frustrated teachers try to impart the stories to rowdy kids. It felt like part of the museum experience to pay homage to this President.

I felt better the next day and flew home to what would soon be the 2020 experience.

It was not until the siege, the impeachment and now the glorious Inaugural that I began to think of my visit with the Capitol. Like us all, I was horrified to see the beautiful inviolable dome desecrated by the mob. I had never before realized how I track to that building, how much power it holds in my American imagination– how constant a symbol it has been for me of what is right with my country. I felt disgust and rage and yet a strange type of relief that the Trumpian opera had seemed to reach its tawdry climax in the deranged insurrection.

And then to see that our congressmen and women got back to work, showing us the tedious process of recording the vote even after they had feared for their lives. It was stunning, reassuring. Those that opposed the certification will live on some kind of infamy, believing or pretending to believe the lies, now hopefully a vestige of a former sick and corrupt regime.

A turn to the new began with the swift impeachment and the deployment of enough national guard to secure us all. And then Inauguration week dawned and so much beauty filled the same space I had walked last year. Lanterns were lit after the simplest of ceremonies to memorialize the 400,000 covid dead, The ceremony was conducted in grace and quiet by Joe and Kamala accompanied by angel voices. The lanterns shone on the now filled waters of the reflecting pool

On Wednesday, the mall was festooned with flags and decorations to stand in for all of us who would have loved to be there standing shoulder to shoulder. In every long shot we saw of our national holy place, beauty rose and conquered the lingering images of desecration. And the Capitol, after her trauma, shone clear and bright like the beacon she is, providing us with the backdrop to what I will never again take for granted is the most sacred of our democratic rituals.

I’ve been taken with Light this year– light of hope that this was the last Trump year– light of hope with vaccines and the lessons of slowing that the unrelenting pandemic provides still , light of hope with this summer’s protests, light of hope in the participation of so many of us in the election. Our Dream Quest in November was entitled Dreaming into the Light. I led a meditation that featured a visualization of a labyrinth of light gently enveloping the Capitol infusing the stones with healing.

So when the remarkable poet, Amanda Gorman taught us that there is always light if only we are brave enough to see it, I saw Washington DC and all those who seek to be of service transformed in that light– an absolutely different reality than the one I experienced last year.

May there be gleaming and hope, bravery and the good hard work of truth and reconciliation for us all.

To the Callanish Stones

Callanish Stones, Isle of Lewis

I have just come in from a hike in my “back yard” on a trail that skirts 3000 acres of open space. There is a clear flow of energy all the way from China across the vast Pacific to this beautiful spot I am privileged to call my home land. I placed 3 rocks in my prayer tree, one for the Pilgrimages to Avalon and Chartres in May, one for increased attention to writing and music, and one for the September Pilgrimages to Wales, Iona and the Callanish Stones.

These days between the holidays have become a bastion of being for me, out of the regular schedule, without the need to accomplish. They are a chance for rest, rejuvenation, movies and seeing old friends. I can feel the usual rhythm beckoning as of Wednesday, so right now is the chance to cast my dreaming net into the ocean of 2019.

The pilgrimage to the Callanish Stones planned for September 11-14 is what ignites my imagination most fully. When I visited last May, the call was clear to come back and bring like minded ones to stand where our long time ancestors once stood, attuning to the wisdom of the stones and using our modern imaginations to ask the questions that face us as a species in this time. We will go as pilgrims ready to discover and learn. One of the features of the location of the stones, is that like my home, they are in the path of energies that come all the way from Canada across the wild North Atlantic. I am fascinated by the flows of Gaia’s meridians and what we can learn as conscious ones attuning to their messages.

I am still welcoming 6 more pilgrims to Callanish. Iona is open for 7 more, and Avalon can receive 3 more pilgrims. My class, Meeting Mary in Chartres which includes a candlelit labyrinth walk is open for many. Check for more details.

And until the year takes us on its busy way, I wish you deep peace,

Dreaming the Spiral in Charlottesville

This is the sermon I offered at the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Unitarian Universalist Church in Charlottesville, VA on February 25. 2018 

This is the 8th year I have had the pleasure of visiting Charlottesville to present the Women’s Dream Quest and the 2nd year I’ve spoken to you all. I take this as an honor, an opportunity to tell the story of what the women have been up to over the weekend and an opportunity to tell the story of the themes that are often mysterious and only experiential. I believe that it is a time when the experiences of the inner heart should be proclaimed in the service of understanding and healing. It is certainly time when all that is feminine is rising.

As I prepare this sermon, it is days after the last unspeakable school shooting, it is months after I watched your beloved community—one of my homes in the the world—become the target of brutal, cynical white supremacists and Nazis. We all know how this has happened. And we know that we need something to move us from despair to action– something to engender hope.

My work is about the interior life, the world of archetypes, of labyrinth walks, of gathering women and men together to enter into their hearts. Over the past year and a bit, it has also been about helping to order the increased chaos we are all living in. It is the dark opportunity of this time, to plumb the depths of the human shadow in each of our individual psyches as we watch the enactment of the national shadow on the political stage.   It is an opportunity to heal what needs to be healed.

The theme of this year’s cycle of Quests has been Dreaming the Spiral. The theme came to me from the dream time as it always does in December 2016. I immediately thought that we would need this sort of perspective in the Questing season, 2017-18 . Looking at the world as a linear progression just wasn’t appropriate. Even Dr. King’s arc of history didn’t supply the correct geometry. One of the ways that can help us keep hope alive is to consider the spiral.

Spirals live everywhere in life, from our inner ears to the unfurling of ferns, from nautilus shells to the shape of galaxies. They are seen in art from as far back as 10.000 BCE  and are an important focus in Celtic Culture and the Indigenous cultures of the Americas. Our own beautiful labyrinth has a spiraling theme. We know in personal growth work that we revisit issues again and again through life, but if we are aware, we notice that we might be on the next rung of an ascending spiral of our soul’s life.

Spirals also describe descent and often the vertiginous feeling we have when life flows out of control. If we notice where we are on our personal spiral at any given moment, we will have the gift of context and perspective and the deeply intuitive knowing that we are still part of the whole dancing cosmos.

Spirials describe the wheel of life, the ongoing flow of the seasons, the movement that characterizes life as we know it . For that reason it seems archetypally feminine, intuitive, changeable .

I took that sense along with another notion I have of the sacred feminine– that it is both particle and wave. Not only is the sacred feminine embodied in the hundreds of female deities of the world traditions. It is also a wave through history of the values of receptivity, inclusivity, nurturance etc– a wave that exists in the consciousness of men as well as women.

So when it came time to create a ritual for  Dreaming the Spiral, it occurred to me to bring both the wave and the particle to the party.

Imagine this: First in the nave of Grace Cathedral on the stone labyrinth and then on the canvas labyrinth in your hall, we laid out a spiral of rainbow scarves tied to each other. We looked at the spiral as representing the wave of the sacred feminine. And then we called the particles– 5 archetypal deities and one surprise to dance on  the spiral, music carrying their message. We chanted to them, sending our prayers.. It is a feature of several of the traditional deities that they come swiftly when they are called. And we all know that in these extraordinary times, we need their help.

We are all going to enact this part of the ritual in a few minutes, but first I would like to introduce the archetypal goddesses and tell their stories.

I must say the first line of this chant came to me when I was doing a labyrinth ceremony on the beach in Pt. Reyes CA while the air was still full of the smoke from the Santa Rosa Fires. This plea kept running in my mind: Mary, turn the hearts who’ve turned to Hatred…… This is my beloved Mother Mary, Guadalupe, Black Madonna of Chartres, the most revered female in Christianity and Islam. For over 1000 years people have called her name in the mantra like prayer, the Hail Mary.

Second, Great Mother Calm the fires, winds and seas-— this archetypal goddess precedes the patriarchy and is how humans related to the Divine throughout most of our history. Many of us tune in to this ancient manifestation of the female godhead. Pause for a moment and see who comes to mind and how you feel about her.

Third, Tara teach us wisdom and Compassion... Tara, the Boddhisatva of Compassion, refused her own enlightenment until all beings were liberated is known as the female Buddha. Like Mary, people in the East call to her for everyday prayers. She is common place and revered.

Then we chanted 3 times: Hear our Pleas, Hear our Pleas,

Opening ourselves to supplication opens our hearts to our needs.

Next, Kali speak our Sacred Truth to Power-– and here I am reminded of young Emma Gonzales who called out the hypocrisy of politicians beholden to the gun lobby with her fierce and tearful speech captured by CNN after the horrific school shootings. Kali, the Hindu Goddess sometimes known as the goddess of destruction embodies clear rage and the ability to stand against demons for the ideals of truth. She is fearless.

Next is Shechinah– the mystical indwelling presence of God from mystical Judaism. We chanted. Shechinah, dwell within the hearts of men. Certianly each man holds the feminine anima within him, just as each woman holds her animus

Then as I was searching for the 6th, it came to me to honor the innocent maiden who often accompanies the strongest woman on her inner journey.

We chanted, Sweet Maiden, hold us safe and strong and tender.

And then Love without End, love without End.

I’d like to offer up the chant to each of these archetypal beings in call and response fashion, but first I would invite you to close your eyes.  ( Here I lead the congregation in a relaxation exercise to visualized the goddesses and to come into a contemplative mood)

Mary turn the hearts who’ve turned to Hatred

Great Mother, calm the fires, winds and seas

Tara. Teach us wisdom and compassion

Hear our pleas, hear our pleas, hear our pleas, hear our pleas, hear our pleas, hear out pleas

Kali, speak our sacred truth to power

Shechinah, dwell within the hearts of men

Sweet maiden, Hold us safe and strong and tender

Love without end, Love without end, love without end, love without end,

Love without end, love without end.

May we reach out as we need to into the Great mystery and all to whom we pray to and may we continue to remember the spiral when it looks like we may be headed over the cliff or when we find ourselves contracted in despair.

Next year, I hope that I’ll be speaking in a new world, with progressive legislators in place – with the feminine rising.   I pray that the nation follows your lead here in VA in electing people of diverse and progressive perspectives. Aho, Blessed Be, Amen, Namaste.