Dancing with Kali...

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Last year around my birthday, I wrote a blog about the Weighing of the Heart. I weighed out my heart last year and felt like I had a good grip on who I was and where I was going. This year, I feel like my life and my world is more about Kali than Ma'at.

This year, situations in my life feel different. At 48, I feel conflicted in a conflicted world. While I treasure my family and my job, I treasure the people in my life and am filled with gratitude that I am loved and that I have this great capacity *to* love, even when situations are complicated, I still find myself more anxious this year. More edgy. More perplexed by a world that is filled with so much hate and xenophobia. At times, I feel more anxiety than I know how to manage. I feel overwhelmed, the illusion that I have some control is dispelled and I feel like a failure on so many levels - as a parent, as a daughter, a friend, even some days as a teacher and partner.

My dad just spent the week with me. We talked a lot about the world and life and mythology. I told him the story of Kali and how, to me, it feels like Kali is dancing in the world. She is the dark goddess. The goddess of destruction:

Kali is the fearful and ferocious form of the mother goddess. She assumed the form of a powerful goddess and became popular with the composition of the Devi Mahatmya, a text of the 5th - 6th century AD. Here she is depicted as having born from the brow of Goddess Durga during one of her battles with the evil forces. As the legend goes, in the battle, Kali was so much involved in the killing spree that she got carried away and began destroying everything in sight. To stop her, Lord Shiva threw himself under her feet. Shocked at this sight, Kali stuck out her tongue in astonishment, and put an end to her homicidal rampage.

Hence the common image of Kali shows her in her mêlée mood, standing with one foot on Shiva's chest, with her enormous tongue stuck out.

When Kali dances in the world, there is great chaos. She is the goddess of time, and she represents the destruction of ignorance. One of the beautiful things about Kali is that when you face Kali as she dances around you, she can remove your fears and bring you peace. Lately, I feel that by facing my fears I will, eventually, find some peace. 

At the same time, I watch Kali dance on a scale bigger than just *my* life. I see American political candidates extol the virtues of xenophobia. I watch other American political candidates surge in the polls spouting their violent rhetoric against planned parenthood and migrants. I watch fear turn so many into the mob in The Crucible. I watch innocent men and women being detained or worse shot, in single shootings or mass shootings, and I forget to breathe. Because Kali dances and she is drunk on blood.

But the beautiful part of the Kali story, is that her consort, the equally powerful god Shiva, knows what he must do to stop her. Shiva throws himself under her feet. Knowing only one thing can stop destruction and chaos, only one thing can end the violence - love. Kali, realizing she is dancing on the one she loves, stops. Now, perhaps, love isn't the best word, she puts out her tongue because she is embarrassed, and she feels remorse for her actions. But in a way, all those ideas come together in my mind. This idea I feel deep in my heart that love is the answer and that we, as a nation and as a world of people who must learn to live together, must have a recognition that destructive anger only brings more destruction. There are some that agree. Some countries that aren't giving in to fear, some political leaders showing kindness, not cruelty and I have hope.

I've found kindred minds reading Humans of New York  (I think you might need a facebook page to follow this link) for the last few months. Recently, the page has been featuring the stories of Syrian refugees struggling to survive. There are over 16million followers of this page. This morning I cried reading the feed. I don't know if the actual story will show up when you click on the link, but it is beautiful so far - the story of Aya. And so very deeply sad. I want so much for the story to have a happy ending. You can pick any of the refugee stories to read, it is not so much the story that is important - it's the comments after each refugee's story. The thousands and thousands of positive comments people leave.

These stories remind me of Kali, that even in her destruction, there is hope. And I have hope. So do most of the people that follow this page. They see that refugees aren't savages, they are humans. Humans running from war and tragedy. And I see how we, as a nation, or at least 16 million of us, also want to believe in hope. In kindness. In love. It doesn't matter if their faith differers from mine or yours... They are human beings who are just trying to live good lives free from war and terror.

And I guess, like my last post, for me it comes back to love. I believe in love. I believe in goodness. I believe in humanity. We are all a little broken. We are all a bit wounded, but deep inside, we were created to live and love. Even as Kali dances around the world, in the end, just like in the mythology, it will be love that saves us.

Peace and love to you all this holiday season,

MaryKate

Royal Fever? or Can I please be allowed to like pop music?

87/100

Okay I know... 3 posts in 3 days, right? *laughter*. This one is going to be short. I am just getting over my case of royal wedding fever. I am. I admit it. And I'm tired of other people feeling they need to (excuse the language) pee on my parade. I heard some people talking about how horrible this whole "royal wedding" fiasco is on Friday when I was in my office. I wasn't part of the conversation so I just listened. They went on and on about how much money it cost and how a small island in Fiji could have lived off that money for 10 years (okay I *might* be making that part up) and how we fought to get away from England, why should we give a damn about a stupid wedding??? What about the tornadoes? What about Don Trump? What about the starving children in Ethopia (okay I might be fibbing about that part as well)...

Um. At first I was embarrassed. I was quietly watching the ceremony on a break during my classes. I was practically in tears watching William turn to Kate at the altar and tell her she was beautiful. I held my breath when they kissed on the balcony. YES I DID! AND I am not ashamed.

You know what? I *love* romance. It's taken me WAY too long to admit that and I am not sticking it back in the closet because someone might think that makes me shallow. And for ONE day, I am going to be okay with princesses and princes and pomp and circumstance. And tradition. And I am going to marvel at the human being and the things that make us tick. I am going to marvel at the intricateness of being human.

The thing is, I look at that wedding with hope. Say what you will about the royals, I believe Diana made a difference in this world, and I believe Kate and William will follow in her footsteps. But setting that aside? For just one day, can't I believe in love? And romance? Can't I look at her dress and hold my breath at how beautiful and happy she looked? And grin about how beautiful her sister looked and wonder if it is *ever* a good idea to let your bridesmaids wear white? *smile* I want to laugh at the silly hats Fergie's kids wore. I want to get caught up in the whole damn princess drama. And, for one day? Yes, I'd like to forget about the tornadoes. And death. And starving people. And misery. For one day? I want to wash myself in hope and happiness and laughter. I want to watch that wedding over and over and smile *EVERY* SINGLE time.

Honestly? I already feel that joy fading a bit. I turned off the tv to clean today. But? I bought the new CD Shout it Out by Hanson for that fresh injection of pop silliness and happiness and it seems to be doing the trick. Cleaning today is actually fun as I dance around the house doing laundry and riding the end of the wedding joy to silly pop music :). I'm just in an incredibly delicious mood!

So yes... if you don't care about the wedding, okay. I respect that. Can you maybe return that favor? Can you maybe let me enjoy it and not roll your eyes at me or think I don't give a damn about the world? Because I do. And after a steady diet of Donald Trump and tornadoes and misery? I need a break.

Peace (and hope!)

MaryKate

A letter to my goddaughter...

26/100

My Dearest Madalyn,

I just spoke with your mom. She told me you lost a tooth today and you two had the 'talk'. You know, the one where you two talked about how there was no Tooth Fairy, or Santa Claus, or Easter Bunny. Your mom said you two cried, even though you already knew. That you took the jar down from the shelf, put your tooth in it, shook it a little to see the 'fairy dust' your mom used to sprinkle on your bed and said, "Mom, let's not tell dad. It makes him so happy to think I still believe. I love his smile when I discover my gifts. Oh, and, can I help next time Grant loses a tooth?" Your mom said you were amazed at how many people went into making that magic seem real...

I can't even tell you how proud I am of you. Seeing how much it means to your dad and wanting to let him hold on to that joy even if it's just a little longer? Is a pretty grown up thing to do. I know it can be really hard, that moment when you grow up enough to know there is no Santa. I so clearly remember the day *I* found out. I was at my grandmother's house. My dad and I were on a walk. I was ten, just like you. For some reason I asked him if the Easter Bunny was real. For a moment he stopped walking and just looked at me. He sighed a little and we started walking again. I'm pretty sure he paused because it is almost as hard for a grown up tell a child there is no Santa, as it is for a child to find out. My dad looked at me and I will never forget what he said. He said, "Honey, Santa and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy all live in the land of Imagination. It's a good place and I hope you never stop visiting there."

I didn't really understand my dad when that happened, Mads. I was kind of confused that everyone had lied to me, but I was sooo curious as well. The land of Imagination? What is that? Where is it? How do I find it? I have spent my life seeking the answers to those questions, Madalyn. And you know what I discovered? That while the Easter Bunny, and Santa don't live in our world, that the world of Imagination my dad told me about? Is the most magical world of all. It's the world of dreams, creativity, beauty, passion and hope. 

Madalyn, magic is more than just the Easter Bunny and Santa and the Tooth Fairy. True magic comes when you believe in your imagination. When you trust in your dreams. When you see beauty and magic all around you. I hope with all my heart you remember something. It is something I forget sometimes but maybe you'll remember it better than I. That 'something' is the ability to see magic in every moment of your life. Not the Harry Potter kind, (although that magic is really cool) but the magic of life itself. The magic of seeing each day as the beautiful miracle it is. As the chance it is for you to make your mark on the world. To leave this planet a little better than how you found it. This world is full of mystery and without imagination? You might just miss it all.

No doubt, in school, you will learn all the scientific reasons why the sun comes up and the moon shines. All the logical reasons why the sky is blue and the snow is cold when it comes down. But just because that snow is cold Madalyn, is no reason not to go outside and let it  melt upon your tongue. Because those moments are true magic. The best magic. The magic, that when you take the time to look for it, is all around you every single moment. The magic of parents that love you. The magic of having a brother to share your life with (even when he irritates you sometimes). The magic of having 2(!) boys sit by you at the lunch table. The magic of having friends and a godmother and family who completely adore you. The magic of being part of this world - the magic of being human. 

Magic thrives when you take a moment to appreciate it; when you see that spark of beauty and mystery. And maybe the magic I'm speaking of isn't the 'all-around-the-world-in-one-night-delivering presents' kind, but the story of Santa brings out the magic of the human spirit. It reminds people of the importance of compassion and the value of reaching out and touching the lives of the less fortunate. While Santa may not be real, the legacy of the legend is. 

Magic is in the air, the trees, the water, the stars and most of all, magic is in the heart, Madalyn. And no one can take that away from you. Hold on to thinking miracles and magic are possible! Should you ever forget? I'll be here and I'll remind you. 

No matter what your life brings you, I hope you hold onto that magic and don't lose sight of how it feels to smell a flower, laugh at otters and dance under the stars. I promise if you hold on to your imagination, Madalyn, you'll have the only key you'll ever need to unlock the doorway to The Great Mystery awaiting you. 

With my heart,

MK

ps. Writing this letter Madalyn has helped me touch back into the magic in my own life. For that, I can not thank you enough. Know you and your family are in my thoughts every single day. I can't wait to see you at Christmas. After all, we have cookies to bake (and this year? Perhaps you can help Santa' when he comes!)