Meridian was the first novel I wrote and is very dear to my heart. It embodies my life philosophy and I wanted to tell the story through the vehicle of the body. In this case a woman’s body which I had some qualms about since the male in our dualistic cultures is all too often identified with the mind and the female with the body, which I think is absurd.
What interested me primarily were the elements which would cause a spiritual breakthrough like the one the protagonist of Meridian, Mairin, experienced. I myself am rather cerebral and even as a child it was not difficult to see my way through the snares of the material world. I was fortunate, I experienced spiritual enlightenment at the age of twenty. I think this was something was was given to me. I have described it elsewhere, but in short, I woke up one morning, found everything within and without me bathed in a golden light, felt that there was no separation between myself and the All, and that time as I knew it had ceased to exist. In front of me I saw what could be described as a hologram representing a divine mind out of which all reality rose and sunk. The feeling tone was one of great joy. It took me another twenty years of reading, everything from physics to comparative religious studies to doing deep self work to be able to incorporate that experience, and since, I have concluded that although the universe arises from the divine source, whatever it brings is co-created by its creatures.
But this book is not about me, and I did not desire to talk about my esoteric process. It is about a very different woman who experiences many betrayals that cause her to see through the institutions of our civilization: family life, conventional religion, bogus spirituality, materialism, social movements, war, nationalism and finally even human relationships. Her trajectory through life is manifested through the energetic vehicle of her body– it is her greatest torment and ultimately the source of her healing and transformation.
Another thing that interested me is the adulteress, the sensuous and sexual woman who is punished by her creator, however empathic, for her sexuality. We’ve seen it time and time again, in great literature such as Madame Bovary or Anna Karenina; in victims high and low like Blanche DuBois, Lolita, Maria Vargas, Carmen and in books written by women, like the Brontes, oddly enough. What does a woman who goes through all of that and yet can still find her salvation look like? I wondered. Some call this type of novel post-modern optimism, and maybe it’s true, we are at a time in history where we are ready to begin an new more meaningful chapter in human existence.