In 1845, Margaret Fuller wrote the first major American book about feminism, Woman in the Nineteenth Century, and expressed her expectation that if women “had every arbitrary barrier thrown down” and “every path laid open” to them: “We believe the divine energy would pervade nature to a degree unknown in the history of the former ages, and that no discordant collision, but a ravishing harmony of the spheres would ensue” (p. 37). She was prophetic in her belief that a powerful spiritual movement would follow an opening of women’s opportunities. I think she would be inspired by our generation’s excavation of women’s spiritual history and reclaiming and creation of ancient and new traditions celebrating female deities, holy women, and the divinity within ourselves.
It can be nearly impossible to appreciate the true effects of our efforts on goals that may only be accomplished far into the future. Just as I wish I could travel back in time to tell Margaret Fuller that progress towards equality would be made and that her prophecy of a feminism-led spiritual transformation is happening, I wonder what a prophetess from the 23rd century might wish to say to us from a world that has, hopefully and presumably, made the changes necessary for our planet’s survival and continued the spiritual progress we have begun, including, for the purposes of the story, time travel.
A rune-carved pebble, a labrys-shaped silver pendant, a holed witch stone, a copper goddess statue, a bronze chalice, and a shattered gold-plated casket all emerged from beneath the ancient tree as heavy rain churned the soil to reveal the treasure. The Prophetess, who had come to sing to the tree as she did each morning, wondered “Who had buried these items and why?” The pendant had 2020 stamped on the back so she knew they were very old, but nothing more.
The Prophetess was old herself now. For decades she had journeyed to timeless, spaceless realms to bring peace, warnings, or messages of love to her village. Now she was free to roam the centuries as she pleased and seek answers to whatever questions arose in her mind. She placed her hands on the tree and felt its girth melt away as the year 2023 materialized around her.
The sight of the sky empty of birds and butterflies, the forest bereft of animals, the soil deserted of insects chilled her soul. The spirits and bodies of the trees yearned for sustenance in the air full of toxins. The mycelium beneath her feet vibrated with constant alarms rather than the matrix songs of joyful life common in her own time.
A woman arrived with the gold casket, now shining and whole, and sat by the tree. She dug a hole and placed the casket in. After an incantation and word of thanks to the tree, she walked away.
The Prophetess followed her back to the village they both lived in, though in different centuries. In the 23rd century the village was a lively, cheerful place with people calmly meeting and chatting, small, cozy houses and shops just big enough for their purpose, exuberantly colored murals, temples celebrating all expressions of divinity, and gardens and wild places everywhere. Now in the 21st century, she saw mostly empty sidewalks, streets full of rushing cars, looming plain concrete buildings, and parking lots. Where were the Whisperers to communicate with the trees, plants, birds, and animals; the Peaceweavers to ensure community harmony; the Prophetesses to guide the people boldly into their future? These professions had not yet been created.
While the environment had certainly been bleak, she was much more stunned by her empathic impressions of the psychological and spiritual burdens carried by the people, especially the women. Unlike many 21st century people, the Prophetess had been raised without undeserved guilt and shame or the sense that she was sinful. She understand fully every day that she was sacred. She had no barriers to being who she was meant to be, to doing what she was meant to do, to living in a world where all were loved and taken care of, including the Earth. As she explored the inner world of the 21st century people around her she wondered how her ancestors had survived such abuse, such repression of who they truly were and lack of opportunity to accomplish their hearts’ desire all their lives?
The Prophetess conjectured that the woman had buried the casket partly out of fear that women of the future would face even worse oppression and need the items for their own renewal, but also out of hope that maybe someone from a better future would find it and remember how hard 21st century women had toiled to reclaim their spiritual realm.
The Prophetess knew what she had to do.
She wrote out a message and placed it at the base of the tree in case the woman returned. The message read:
Dear Woman of the 21st century,
The objects you buried brought me to you from 200 years in the future and there are things I wish to tell you.
Know that I see you creeping up to the spiritless wall of repression and fear that kept women from their own sacred hearts for so long. I see you pushing your bleeding finger into the tiny crevices of hope and grinding away at the debris until the glimmer of a luminescent future lights up your hands. I see you opening your eyes and seeing not what you had been told see, but the divinity that is really there. I see you touching stone and feeling spirit. I see you opening yourself to the both the love and the risk that comes with understanding that we are never alone but connected to all life, The Earth, and the Cosmos Herself.
Know that the wall will come down and a portal of flowers will lead the people from the the travails of your century to the promise of ours. By joining hands and singing, chanting, dancing in ecstasy, you and your sisters are making our radiant future that I promise you will be.
We honor you and are deeply grateful to you. What you have done will be remembered always.
Love, Your granddaughters of the 23rd century
Source:
Fuller, Margaret. Woman in the Nineteenth Century. New York: WW Norton & Co, 1971.