Your country wants you to spend

It is almost four-o-clock in the afternoon and the sun is already setting in a clear blue sky. Here in Brighid's Isles we have already had the first snow of winter and the dark and the cold cover the land. Winter is such a beautiful time for introspection, for entering the heart with the Goddesses and letting them gently open us to all that is good and beautiful and true.

Meanwhile the news media are buzzing with government initiatives to help us spend our way out of a recession. It seems that our country wants us to shop and our government is willing to lend us our own money to do so for a whole year before they claw it all back in more taxation. 

Goddess help us all! We spend all this money and have nothing to show for it. Buy a new car and it loses half its value the moment it is driven off the garage forecourt. Buy the latest electronic wonder and we are only happy until a new model is introduced eight months later. Buy a printer and it is cheaper to buy a new one than replace the ink; so the old one goes into the landfill. We repair nothing because we are told it is so environmentally friendly to recycle the old and buy new. But worse of all we have forgotten how to share what we have.

There is an old story - given a divine mandate - about a harsh and cruel man who goes off on a journey entrusting three of his servants with differing sums of money according to their ability to work the monetary system. It is a story that tells us how the weak always go to the wall and how violence is always inflicted upon the weak by the strong. One of the servants is so terrified of his master that worry and stress take over his life. The other servants do nothing to help because they are too busy making money for their master. When the harsh and cruel man returns he shows absolutely no compassion to the servant. He makes no attempt to help him. The servant is simply condemned. And this is held up as a model to follow. Indeed it has become the model that is followed.

Since I started writing this it has become entirely dark and the stars have appeared in the night sky. To be alive under a starlit sky is a wonderful gift. Creation shares its beauty with all. I have eyes to see, I have a roof over my head and food on the table so I am rich. I have others to love and I feel loved and cherished so I have riches beyond avarice. 

If we can appreciate the beauty and wonder and magic that is all around us then the Goddesses have touched us. If we have learnt to share and be content with enough we have found Goddess wisdom. Sometimes less is in truth much more.

Goddess Economy

It is always a joy to give and receive gifts around the Winter Solstice and I love the adventure involved in searching for beautiful things that will bring a little magic into someone's life.

Here in Brighid's Isles it isn't always easy. Somehow we have all been asleep whilst the big chain stores of the corporate world have cloned our high streets. Now they all have the same stores selling the same boring things, much of it manufactured by women working long hours for poor wages in the far east. In truth our high streets have become battlegrounds of domination and competition aimed at relieving us of our money as quickly as possible.

I live between two cities, Leeds and York and they couldn't be more different. Leeds is a typical british clone town whilst York is filled with small independent shops offering a veritable cornucopia of magic and delight. In Leeds people look rushed and harassed. In York you can see the delight on people's faces and they seem to have time to stop and socialise.

So York seems to me to be closer to a Goddess economy, one based on beauty, magic, nurture, co-operation and real social interaction. In Leeds you go into a shop and buy. In York you still go into a shop and buy; but you also receive gifts, personal service, the delight of an artisan in her own work, the chance to talk and exchange ideas.

By now you can guess in which city I bought my Winter gifts ! However, Leeds didn't seem to be all corporate greed for there was one oasis of difference which made it actually worthwhile to get the bus into that city. The old Corn Exchange is a beautiful building which was a haven for small independent shops selling their own kind of magic and every weekend the floor was filled with artisans selling their wares. The place buzzed and had its own special atmosphere. It rapidly became THE place for the city's teenagers to socialise. A little Goddess economy in a world of corporate greed.

Then came the bad news. It was suddenly announced by the owners of the Corn Exchange that it was "under-performing" and all the small shopkeepers and artisans were given notice to quit. Instead, the Corn Exchange was to become an expensive restaurant and a luxury food hall.

Needless to say "under-performing" is all about greed. As a value added, gift added, magical, Goddess economy place to socialise and shop the Corn Exchange was quite clearly performing very well indeed.

So last Saturday I took the bus into Leeds to visit the only place that made it worth the effort to travel to that city, you guessed it - the Corn Exchange. Over the last few weeks many of the shops had given up and closed and there were few artisans left weaving their magic on the floor.

But, one thing gave me real hope for the future. On a cold, wet, winter afternoon some 300 teenagers dressed in the finery you could only buy in the magical shops of the Corn Exchange stood outside protesting the closure. Their spirits were high and their behaviour impeccable. Three corporate heavies watched them closely, their presence and their attire quite incongruous. I felt really, really proud of our young people and they gave me real hope for the future and for a truly Goddess Gift economy.