CATHOLIC BROAD--MYSTIC OR WITCH? POST # 1
POST # 1:
I expect that several hundred years ago they might have put me in an asylum or burned me as a witch. My husband believes I have a "white witchy power" about me, whatever in hell that means. It could be this:
--knowing who's on the phone before I pick it up
--knowing whose car is coming up the driveway (but the dog gets that too, so that's no big whoop)
--having a sense of what is ahead for me, good and bad (Getting an internal message in May, 2015, that I needed to get really fit and build up my strength. Then cancer 5 months later.)
--getting a sense of what is ahead for others.
Ok, let's start with the beginning of the "Mystical Journey of Annie."
1/ When I was nine years old, on a camp out in a meadow at my favorite Camp Windigo (I know...), I woke early, at sunrise one day. Looking across the field, I saw my friends asleep in their muffled sleeping bags. Then I looked up at the apple orchard we were in--it was flooded with golden light. Literally, every twig, fruit, piece of bark, every bit of grass was glowing. My heart almost stopped, then sped up again. I did not know what it was. Only that it enveloped me, calmed me, and made me feel loved.
2/ Later, in 7th grade, back in the day when we walked to the Protestant Church (I was non-affiliated then) for Religious Education, a nifty, enthusiastic preacher had each of us learn one Psalm and the Lord's Prayer. I did not know that! But for reasons unknown to me, at night I would recite the Lord's Prayer into the darkness above my bed, and it felt as if a soft, warm, loving blanket floated down over me, protecting me. My heart expanded. And there was no one in my life to tell me what I was experiencing or give a name to it.
3/ Fast forward to my Junior Year abroad in Oxford, England, where I had gotten into the habit of attending Evensong at New Church (very old, 12th-century I think) nearby. The soaring notes of those choirboys, the warmth of the flickering candles, and the Scripture read out soothed my soul, filled me within. I was being prepared, though I did not know it at the time.
4/ When my husband-to-be came to Oxford that summer on a UMASS study program, I bought tickets to the Bach Summer Concert. We heard flute concertos in some ancient library, quartets, and then went to Christ's Church Cathedral to hear Bach's Passion in B Minor, conducted by Richter. Little did we know as we sallied in and took our seats. The music began. The cellist nearby had her eyes closed as she played heavenly music, and the notes entered my heart, soul, and mind. Suddenly, I knew: This had happened. This was all real. Jesus was real. And he was crucified. For us.
Afterwards, we stumbled outside, tears on our cheeks, and sat, trying to collect ourselves. We walked around in a dae for the rest of the day.
The following day, I told myself, "It might be a good idea to pray, Annie." I wavered. "On my knees? With my hands like this?" But I had been at Evensong and knew to drop to my knees. Good thing, 'cause I would have fallen if I had been standing. Through the brick wall of the worker's cottage came a blast of light, a surge of energy so strong that it knocked me sideways. It felt as if I were being electrocuted by love.
Afterwards, for a full week, my fingers looked like candles to me, with a glow surrounding them. It was heady and terrifying at the same time. As St. Paul once said, "It is a fearful thing to fall into the Hands of the Living God." (Hebrews 10:31)
My life has never been the same since. Once you KNOW God is there and that she is within you and everyone else in the world (even Trump), inside every bird, flower, kangaroo, elephant, cat, dog, flea and more--you see the world differently. "To see a World in a Grain of Sand," as Blake put it..."Hold infinity in the palm of your hand..."("Auguries of Innocence")
I realize this is taking a long time, and there is more to share. Let's do this, lest you fall over with the weight of too much information: I will post twice with this and continue next week.
I expect that several hundred years ago they might have put me in an asylum or burned me as a witch. My husband believes I have a "white witchy power" about me, whatever in hell that means. It could be this:
--knowing who's on the phone before I pick it up
--knowing whose car is coming up the driveway (but the dog gets that too, so that's no big whoop)
--having a sense of what is ahead for me, good and bad (Getting an internal message in May, 2015, that I needed to get really fit and build up my strength. Then cancer 5 months later.)
--getting a sense of what is ahead for others.
Ok, let's start with the beginning of the "Mystical Journey of Annie."
1/ When I was nine years old, on a camp out in a meadow at my favorite Camp Windigo (I know...), I woke early, at sunrise one day. Looking across the field, I saw my friends asleep in their muffled sleeping bags. Then I looked up at the apple orchard we were in--it was flooded with golden light. Literally, every twig, fruit, piece of bark, every bit of grass was glowing. My heart almost stopped, then sped up again. I did not know what it was. Only that it enveloped me, calmed me, and made me feel loved.
2/ Later, in 7th grade, back in the day when we walked to the Protestant Church (I was non-affiliated then) for Religious Education, a nifty, enthusiastic preacher had each of us learn one Psalm and the Lord's Prayer. I did not know that! But for reasons unknown to me, at night I would recite the Lord's Prayer into the darkness above my bed, and it felt as if a soft, warm, loving blanket floated down over me, protecting me. My heart expanded. And there was no one in my life to tell me what I was experiencing or give a name to it.
3/ Fast forward to my Junior Year abroad in Oxford, England, where I had gotten into the habit of attending Evensong at New Church (very old, 12th-century I think) nearby. The soaring notes of those choirboys, the warmth of the flickering candles, and the Scripture read out soothed my soul, filled me within. I was being prepared, though I did not know it at the time.
4/ When my husband-to-be came to Oxford that summer on a UMASS study program, I bought tickets to the Bach Summer Concert. We heard flute concertos in some ancient library, quartets, and then went to Christ's Church Cathedral to hear Bach's Passion in B Minor, conducted by Richter. Little did we know as we sallied in and took our seats. The music began. The cellist nearby had her eyes closed as she played heavenly music, and the notes entered my heart, soul, and mind. Suddenly, I knew: This had happened. This was all real. Jesus was real. And he was crucified. For us.
Afterwards, we stumbled outside, tears on our cheeks, and sat, trying to collect ourselves. We walked around in a dae for the rest of the day.
The following day, I told myself, "It might be a good idea to pray, Annie." I wavered. "On my knees? With my hands like this?" But I had been at Evensong and knew to drop to my knees. Good thing, 'cause I would have fallen if I had been standing. Through the brick wall of the worker's cottage came a blast of light, a surge of energy so strong that it knocked me sideways. It felt as if I were being electrocuted by love.
Afterwards, for a full week, my fingers looked like candles to me, with a glow surrounding them. It was heady and terrifying at the same time. As St. Paul once said, "It is a fearful thing to fall into the Hands of the Living God." (Hebrews 10:31)
My life has never been the same since. Once you KNOW God is there and that she is within you and everyone else in the world (even Trump), inside every bird, flower, kangaroo, elephant, cat, dog, flea and more--you see the world differently. "To see a World in a Grain of Sand," as Blake put it..."Hold infinity in the palm of your hand..."("Auguries of Innocence")
I realize this is taking a long time, and there is more to share. Let's do this, lest you fall over with the weight of too much information: I will post twice with this and continue next week.
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