For the past two or three days I’ve been congested and sniffly.  Ever since I stopped smoking (aside from some throat issues I had toward the end of May and beginning of June, which was also energetic and not physical), I haven’t had this problem.  Most of the time when I’m suffering from anything that appears to be physical, it’s usually something energetic that’s just manifesting in a physical way to draw my attention to it so I can work through it.  Thankfully, it’s not the first form of communication Momma reaches for to get through to me, but it isn’t too far down the list either.  What usually helps me begin to figure out what the underlying issue may be is to state what’s going on physically in broad terms.  In this instance, my head is out of whack and can’t decide how it wants to/should express itself (congestion or runny nose, both, etc.).

A number of exciting new things have been going on with me recently that range from coming home to who I am, remembering bits and pieces of previous lives and previous paths to a possible internship opening up, and finding that I might have the money needed to complete the first year of a 2 year-long training in a form of therapy that is exactly how I want to practice professionally.  A common theme that I found running through three out of the four of these issues/events (and loads of other places in my life) is looking to others for fill in the blank instead of looking inward to myself.   I discount myself frequently.

I think that my pattern of looking to others for advice/insight/guidance, etc. stems from a fear of failure/making serious mistakes and a fear of others judging me or thinking poorly of me.  And really, what is failure?  Does it even exist?  I don’t think it does.  As for mistakes, I think calling something a mistake is the “half-empty” version while recognizing it as a learning opportunity is the “half-full.”  As far as others judging me - that’s something I have no control over anyway, so why bother stressing about it?  All of this is ego related.  I choose to not judge it, instead I choose to say, “hmmmm - isn’t that interesting” and be thankful that it has surfaced so that I can work through it.  I choose to recognize it as a pattern of previous behavior with which I no longer will identify.

I also choose to weave some affirmations in to heal where this pattern was.  I remember the Charge of the Goddess and embrace the idea that all that I have searched for outside myself is within me, and I need only turn inward to find it.  Instead of asking myself what I “should” do, I will ask myself “What would I like to do?  What do I think would be best for me right now?”  I also choose to look at this moment and see all of these things unfolding and appreciate how exciting my ordinary life is. 

Last week I began reading the book Imagine a Woman in Love With Herself by Patricia Lynn Reilly.  FANTASTICALLY AMAZING.  The book title is a poem the author wrote, and she breaks down each stanza and goes into further detail, provides stories and meditations. After one of the earlier stanzas, she talks about ‘coming home to the breath’ and she notes that in the beginning when we were all little girls, we breathed deeply through our bellies.  Yet, each time we were criticized in our homes, we would begin to breathe from a the more shallow upper chest while tightening our abdominal muscles.  Reilly goes on to say that this is a “fight or flight” breath and that our socialization sets us up to fight our natural self and banish it to our depths or take flight from it by finding and participating in any number of distractions.

When I first read this, it hit me hard.  My memory started playing clips from my childhood where my mother was saying, “Suck in your stomach!” over and over again.  When you’re constantly sucking in your stomach, you can’t do belly breathing.   I was so intent on constantly having my stomach sucked in growing up that I wouldn’t ever NOT suck it in around others - especially romantic interests, and especially if we were being intimate.  Today, I almost have a 6 pack, which I owe predominantly to my mother (sucking in your stomach is a constant ab workout).

After reading this section, and in the spirit of learning how to love myself again, I began doing belly breathing.  All the time.  And I began trying to look at my belly and feel it while I’m breathing and appreciate its roundness and its curves and love it.  It’s been fascinating for me because unless I’m consciously thinking about breathing, my breathing reverts back to that tight-upper chest breathing.  I’ve also been catching myself sucking my stomach back in if I start to pass by people and I need to choose consciously to belly breathe again. I figure it makes sense - after all, it took me a while to learn to breathe so shallowly, naturally, it’ll take a while to break that habit. And each time I belly breathe, I breathe healing into myself and wholeness.

I took an intensive week-long course in adventure therapy at the beginning of the month which I absolutely LOVED.  It was an amazing experience and one that changed my life in ways I am sure I will continue to discover as the days pass on.  The class was small - 15 people - and one of the things our instructor was continually asking us to think about is how we “showed up” to group and to class?  How did we show up when we faced a challenging and frustrating problem-solving activity to try to work through together?  How did we show up when we were tired, hungry, and maybe a little dehydrated?  The emphasis was on the fact that we all choose how to show up.  We can choose to be patient and kind and understanding, etc. amidst our frustration or we can choose to be cranky, irritable, and frustrated, etc.  There is always a choice.

Similarly, in A New Earth, Eckhart Tolle poses the question, How do you respond to the Now?  The present moment?  Are you friends with it?  Because the present moment, the Now, is Life.  It is all there is.  When I read this section of the book, I saw that more often than not, I am not friendly with the Now.  I’m probably more often frustrated, bitchy, complaining, etc.  As I read on, he noted that the ego (the root of all negative emotions which is conditioned by our past) usually doesn’t like to focus on the Now.  It prefers the past or the future.  If it does focus on the Now, it treats it in one of three primary ways: a) a means to an ends, b) an obstacle to overcome, or c) an enemy.  Tolle nailed me to the wall on that one.  Frequently, I treat the Now as either a) or b) and think I’m doing well because I’m not treating it as c), though that definitely happens, too some times.  The theme running through all of those is that they are viewpoints that resist or judge the Now or view it only in the context of the past or future.  There is no acceptance.  Being friends with the Now means accepting it unconditionally.  And the amazing and wonderful thing is that when I told myself I was going to consciously choose to be friends with the Now, a lovely feeling of peace and calmness washed over me.  I confess it was short-lived as stressors crept back in and up, and I struggled to choose again.
One of my favorite things about my adventure course was that we began each day by playing songs that meant something to us or that we felt were applicable given the experiences we were having.  One of the songs a classmate of mine brought in was “With my own two hands” by Jack Johnson and Ben Harper from the Curious George soundtrack.  I wasn’t familiar with the song but fell in love with it - it is strongly descriptive of how I want to show up to Life.  I invite you to listen and reflect on how you want to “show up” to Life…

If you were to look at the history of my intimate/romantic relationships in this life, there would be a theme that would eventually surface if you looked for it and waited for it long enough. In every relationship I have ever chosen and committed to in some way or another, I have constructed it so that I am in the background, the sidekick position. Introverted and insecure in many ways, I have always disliked being the center of attention for fear that if people looked at me long enough, they would see through me, see my flaws, and like myself, label those flaws and imperfections as who I am and then reject me. Consequently, my partners and lovers have generally been ostentatious and/or un-ignorable in some way, whether looks, personality, behavior, talents/skills, or any combination therein. These people are magnetic and charismatic in some way - people are drawn to them by their very nature. And with all the attention focused on them, it has been easy for me to hide in their shadows.

I have hidden because hiding is safe. No one really holds you accountable to life and living when you’re hidden. I don’t hide and/or I have not hidden in all aspects of my life. In some, I’ve been downright flamboyant and provocative. But for as long as I can remember, I have always chosen that path in my romantic relationships. And while being hidden might afford some safety, it has enormous drawbacks. One that screams for attention (ironically) the most is that of freezing in time. When I hide, it is as though who I am at the very beginning (or within the first few months) of that relationship seizes and stops and freezes in the moment. And it becomes a prison for my Self - not the relationship, but the decision to hide. I lock into a moment of my identity, my development, and I do not move forward. Instead, I live for the other person, through the boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other. And that is not healthy.

You might imagine the difficulty this creates, both in the relationship and in my Self. Because truly, my Self is screaming at me the entire time to get going, though it has taken who knows how many relationships and years to finally reach my ears and my heart today. Looking back, though, I can see that it has been yelling for a long time. My Self has wanted to continue growing, wants to continue evolving and changing. [Sidenote: I wonder if my years of being single with romantic relationships spotted here and there have anything to do with that.] But my ego has long been in charge and its serenade of “not good enough” echoing constantly in the background has overflowed like a flood into my behavior patterns.

Until today, there has only been one instance that I can recall in which I noticed this pattern and launched myself out of the situation. It was my first serious boyfriend in college. I had been dating him for almost a year and a half. We met toward the end of spring semester my freshman year at the restaurant where we were both working. I hadn’t made many friends at that point, so when we began dating, I spent almost all my time with him. As time marched on and the close of my sophomore year came, I had actually made a number of friends at the restaurant. I wanted to spend time with them before leaving the country to study abroad that coming year. My boyfriend was angered. He was full of bitterness and resentment and manipulation, attempting to guilt trip me into spending more time with him by telling me I didn’t care about him. If I cared about him and loved him, I would want to be with him more right before I left. I was able to pause then and look over the past year. I saw how different I had become, how much I had looked to him for my identity. While I’m not entirely clear on what codependent looks like, it looked a lot like that. I was rediscovering my Self, finding people who enjoyed being around me and who I called friends, and he was pissed off. The reality of the situation rocked me and opened my eyes. I was choosing these relationships to help me see what it was/is that I do and what lies at the root of it. After all, how can I break a pattern I can’t see? And while some things have changed, and I’ve made some small progress, most of the work has been band-aids over a gaping wound.

A few months ago, I started to think of the lessons I learn in terms of spirals. Frequently, I will run into a lesson that I thought I had already learned or that felt oddly familiar. At first, I felt like a failure or a fraud in that while I had thought I learned it, I obviously hadn’t if it was reappearing. After further reflection, though, I came to realize that certain lessons were revisiting me on a deeper level. I had learned the lesson at one level, successfully, but the lesson was greater and deeper and required a reprise to be able to grasp it on a different level, to grasp it more fully.

One of my recent previous posts was about self-love and self-acceptance. In it, I talked about how I had worked to get to a point where I could say I loved my Self, but that I did. I wasn’t lying at the time - I had meant it wholeheartedly. But recently, I’ve taken a turn on the spiral and come around again to this lesson because this is what is at the root of this particular behavior pattern. Just like with surrender, I think there are varying levels to self-love and self-acceptance. This relationship pattern of hiding is out of a lack of self-love, self-appreciation, self-acceptance. If I love my Self, I won’t compare my Self to others. I won’t be trying to be them instead of allowing who I am to come to the surface and make its Self known to me. And I still currently do those things.

I’ve done and I continue to do that a great deal with my beloved. My beloved is an amazing woman. Aside from being an unbelievably talented and skilled Witch, Healer, and psychic, she is the bravest, most wonderfully fascinating, and hardest working woman I have ever met. I have looked to her for so many things that I want to be instead of looking within to learn about who I am. I have forgotten and lost the goddess within. And it is the silence between us right now that finally reached my ears like a song long-forgotten whose music speaks of this lesson so that I might remember and embrace it.

I have written before about the act of surrendering to the Momma, and how there are varying levels of surrender. I indicated in my last post that it was a topic/lesson that had been coming up for me since July. Over the last week, I realized how inaccurate that statement is.

Unsure and confused over a tarot reading I had done for myself, I consulted my beloved who is more familiar with the deck I was using than I regarding its meaning and significance. I can’t remember if it was before or after the reading (I think before, but I’m not positive) that I had found out I had forgotten to file a form for my financial aid for the summer so that my tuition expenses could be covered. As a result, my financial aid wouldn’t go through in time to pay for my summer tuition – a total of about $11k. Though now, the situation seems less catastrophic (after having moved through it and gained some perspective, not to mention resolved it), at the time, it felt like the last card, misplaced that sends the whole house crashing down. The difficulties in getting an internship, the thought of postponing the internship and setting back my whole graduate program, the stress of being encouraged to hang on in a sort of limbo state and hope and wait for someone to drop their internship site (and that it be one that I wanted), and now this left me feeling trapped, confused, bewildered and insecure.

As I listened to Signmom explain the reading, I felt even more confused. I was avoiding something, ignoring something. I was trying to rush forward even though what I should have been doing was standing still and trying to decipher what this something was that I was running from. In so doing, I was making an even bigger mess for myself. And as I listened to her, I had no idea what it was I was avoiding. But we soon figured out what it was. Death. Not physical death, but the complete death of Self. The act of complete surrender. As I sat on my living room floor staring at the cards in frustration and trying to assess my situation, I recognized the familiarity of it. I knew that I had been at this point before. More so, I knew I had been at this point before numerous times. I had faced this lesson of complete surrender, of total death of self, in a large handful of life times in the past. Signmom pointed out to me, and I knew she was right, that every time it had come up before, I had said to the Momma, “No thanks” and turned away. We talked again, as we had on previous occasions, about how the Momma will present us with a lesson, and at certain times, we have the choice of whether we want to learn it. If we say no, it temporarily drifts back under the surface only to later re-emerge harsher than before. Furthermore, some times we are asked to simply learn lessons and other times, we are required to live them. Signmom told me, and again, I knew she was right, that I wasn’t going to be given the option of not living this lesson this time. Like the addict who reaches rock bottom and understands that the work of recovery, the act of change, is better than continuing life in the same way, I began to truly see what a mess I make of things when I try to control them instead of giving it all and my Self to the Momma.

Over the course of the following few days, signmom and I were unable to talk to each other due to her schedule. Not being able to speak with her set off all kinds of fears for me that went from mild to extreme. Because I was unable to speak with her, I was forced to sit with those fears and examine them. I did so only somewhat willingly because I had little else to do, and grudgingly because I knew it needed to be done. I eventually realized that they stemmed from ego, and like a floodgate opening up, I began to see how much my ego gets in my way, how much it colors my thoughts, my actions, the things I say, the things I write, the growth I claim to seek. Rarely, was I ever even aware of its presence or its effects. I wondered in frustration how I could fix this or change it when I didn’t even know when it was in play.

And when I paused to think about how it effected the growth I claim to seek, I became nauseated. I spout so much about seeking growth, wanting growth, seeking transformation, but my ego constantly gets in the way. I learned that it usually appears in one of two forms, though probably both simultaneously most times: 1) I write and talk about wanting to grow and the energy behind it is all ego screaming, “Look at me! Look at what I am seeking! Laud me! Praise me for the things I am undertaking! Pat me on the back because aren’t I so spiritually developed and tuned in to be seeking this!” and once the growing is actually underway, usually comes, 2) Oh, look at how hard this is! This burden of growing I have taken on! Pity me and applaud me at the same time! Praise me for my willingness to seek this burden, this hardship! Growing is nothing but hardship, and aren’t I laudable for enduring this duress? When I realized this, I wanted to throw up because I knew it was true. And what really, can I take from any lesson presented to me if I am going to treat it as a burden, especially when it’s something I have asked for?! And all the while as I was digging through ego to more ego, I was feeding ego in that I was saying to myself, “How can I ever get through all of this? How do I fix this? What am I supposed to do with this knowledge?” and still viewing the growing process as a hardship the entire time.

I began working on a ritual for death and rebirth. I sat, I meditated, I played a lot of spider solitaire (breaks), watched episodes of “Big Love” on DVD and eventually the movie “The Celestine Prophecy.” I hesitatingly, at first, talked to the Momma to see what She would reveal to me that I needed to know or consider regarding this lesson and change I was preparing to undertake. I stopped attempting medicine card and tarot readings because they all said the same thing: death, surrender, etc. I sat with what complete surrender (which is a death and rebirth) looked like as far as varying aspects of my life were concerned. Eventually, I completed my ritual on Mother’s Day.

In Women Who Run With the Wolves, Clarissa Pinkola Estes writes that enlightenment (or, I think, any kind of epiphany since I’m not saying I’m enlightened) does not come during the act – it comes afterward. Though I felt different after my ritual, it wasn’t until Tuesday that something shifted for me. I was driving down into town to take care of some tuition classification details and meet up with my professor/mentor and was thinking about the whole ego thing. I had already briefly described my past several days to him in an email, and I knew I would fill in gaps when we met. I wanted to communicate this to him without ego being present. And as I drove, it hit me – I was STILL looking at this ego lesson as a hardship instead of a gift. All of a sudden, it occurred to me that growing is a gift. No, it’s not always easy, but shouldering it as a burden takes away the very gift itself and any chance of actually keeping the lesson that’s being offered. I thought back to the Celestine Prophecy and one of the insights that said to always look at things from a positive perspective, to try to find the deeper meaning, as a way of moving through them.

Something clicked. I thought about how when I have some physical ailment, it’s almost always energetic and the Momma’s way of telling me to look at some issue, some reaction I’m having to a current situation, some way I’m thinking (which is usually irrational or ego-induced). I almost always complain about this kind of communication. I’ve bitched about wanting the Momma to speak more clearly to me, but I was still bitching when She would do so through this way. And though rarely are physical ailments pleasant, it was (and is) one direct means of communication between She and me that gets my attention quickly and is an offering of a way to move through something I might not have otherwise noticed as being an issue.

And then, I thought about what I really mean when I tell the Momma I want to grow, to develop. What I really mean is, I want my magickal skills to increase, I want to see auras, I want to become more psychic, I want, I want, I want, etc. I realized that it’s like I am in second grade asking for 6^th grade lessons. And the Momma (justifiably and rightfully) says, No. Learn this 2^nd grade lesson, and we’ll work up to those other ones. This has to come first. Because you can’t skip grades unless you’ve already learned or know the lessons from the grades you’re skipping. And I’ve got some very important lessons to learn here in 2^nd grade.

I met with my mentor with whom I’ve shared a great deal of my life and grown closer with since I started school and told him of what had been transpiring for me the past several days. I wanted to do it in a way that was devoid of ego, and though I’m not sure I succeeded, I tried. I don’t know if there was something in telling my mentor of what was going on with me or my pondering the insights of the Celestine Prophecy (fiction or not, I think it bears truth in it) that caused something to shift for me, but after we parted and I was on the train back to the station and my car, I felt a lightness and joy inside me, and a deepening Love. Not a disappearance of the recognition of where I am, what I have to learn, but rather a joy in the presence of where I am. A little later, I went to ground, and grounding had never been so easy. Normally, I have to push the energy from my body down through my feet and into the earth for it to really leave. Now, it was like all I had to do was think about grounding, and my Self opened, and then whoosh! It all left easily and peacefully as though there was a magnet in the earth that is the Mother that drew all of my energy I wanted to let go of toward Her.

Since yesterday afternoon, another feeling has begun to grow that I don’t have very good English for yet other than to describe it as a detachment. Not the unhealthy detachment that warrants a diagnosis, more like a lack of clutching or grasping at the things in my world. I’m finding it a little unsettling right now and wondering if that’s because I have always clutched at things, people, relationships, jobs, etc. and the feeling is generally foreign to me. But despite being unfamiliar, there’s a sort of calmness that comes with it that I’m currently trying to sit with. I’m not sure what it will unfold into, and for the first time, I’m okay with that.

Grace over at The Wild Pomegranate posted this poem in January of this year, and I’ve been waiting for enough time to go by before reposting it here (it’s absolutely delicious) so as not to steal her thunder. This poem speaks to me very clearly and loudly right now, so I thought I’d share.

We Have Come To Be Danced

We have come to be danced
not the pretty dance
not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance
but the claw our way back into the belly
of the sacred, sensual animal dance
the unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance
the holding the precious moment in the palms
of our hands and feet dance

We have come to be danced
not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance
but the wring the sadness from our skin dance
the blow the chip off our shoulder dance
the slap the apology from our posture dance

We have come to be danced
not the monkey see, monkey do dance
one, two dance like you
one two three, dance like me dance
but the grave robber, tomb stalker
tearing scabs & scars open dance
the rub the rhythm raw against our souls dance
We have come to be danced
not the nice invisible, self conscious shuffle
but the matted hair flying, voodoo mama
shaman shakin ancient bones dance
the strip us from our casings, return our wings
sharpen our claws & tongues dance
the shed dead cells and slip into
the luminous skin of love dance

We have come to be danced
not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow end of the floor dance
but the meeting of the trinity: the body, breath & beat dance
the shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance
the mother may I?
yes you may take 10 giant leaps dance
the Olly Olly Oxen Free Free Free dance
the everyone can come to our heaven dance

We have come to be danced
where the kingdoms collide
in the cathedral of flesh
to burn back into the light
to unravel, to play, to fly, to pray
to root in skin sanctuary
We have come to be danced
WE HAVE COME

by Jewel Mathieson

I’m approaching the one year anniversary of my blog, and in the spirit of honoring what growth I have accomplished, I decided to reread my entire blog and note the things I have learned this year. This list certainly isn’t exhaustive, and I might add to it, but here’s what jumped out at me:

• I am not a naturally aggressive and spiteful person
• Even in deep pain, I am able to recognize that it is temporary, that I will heal, that I am strong
• That even people I love and think I know can be deceptive and hide who they truly are
• That I am better off without those people in my life
• That I am one of the best at deceiving myself
• That even while experiencing intense heartache and pain, I am strong enough to focus on other major events and details of my life that need tending to
• That crying always leaves a headache in its wake the same way too much alcohol leaves a hangover
• That I can gain closure for myself in a peaceful way in relationships that end in a very difficult way
• Meeting people where they are – in whatever developmental space that is – is the best way to ensure connecting with them and possibly helping them
• While tough love is appropriate at times, not everyone responds well to it, it’s not always appropriate
• Part of why I am here in this lifetime is to provide strength, aid, and comfort to those who need it or seek it
• If I let anger and frustration get the better of me, I set myself back developmentally
• A lot of the means of aid I can give to others requires that I grow beyond myself, beyond where I currently am
• There is always a sense of anxiety for me in “starting over” in some way in my life, and it’s important that I honor that anxiety so that it can dissipate; starting over is very possible, no matter how hard it is
• When I am very active in physically doing, I need to make time to settle down and just be – no matter what – and this is not called being selfish or lazy. It’s called self-care
• I need to attend to my spiritual growth on a regular basis or I feel miserable
• Culture is not limited to racial/ethnic background; virtually everything we can think of is a type of culture – age, gender, life experience, (dis)ability, geographic location, religious/spiritual affiliation, etc.
• I can be extremely judgmental towards others, even without realizing it
• Getting angry when I learn less-than-wonderful things about myself serves little purpose, despite how difficult it is to be confronted with them; rather, my way is easier when I gently, peacefully, and honestly acknowledge those things and then decide whether I wish to remain that way or change
• I need physical outlets to release stress
• Adjusting to new life circumstances is difficult and takes a great deal of time and being gentle with myself, even if I’ve done it before
• Though I disagree with many of the things they did, my parents raised me the best way they knew how; however, because I would have raised me far differently, I have had to (and continue to have to) do a great deal of work on myself to counteract and resolve some of (what I consider to be) their mistakes
• Religion, even with the right intention, can be deafeningly oppressive
• Any power anyone or anything has over me is that which I have given to them
• De-programming old beliefs and patterns of behavior is possible, though hard work that must be committed to and done intentionally and continuously
• It is possible to miss something that I have never had in this life time
• The theme of surrender has been floating in and out of my life since July; there are varying levels of surrender
• Mama will present me with the same lesson numerous times, but each time, She gets a little more insistent until She just gets to the point of kicking my ass
• Occasionally reviewing how far I have come in my journey is an incredibly important part of my journey, not a bunny trail off of it; I should probably do it more often
• The Mama frequently talks to me in MY voice, which is a bit freaky
• I almost always already possess the tools that I need to assist me through life changes, and they are within me
• I do not fear change – the process – in and of itself; I fear the repercussions and outcomes; and yet, more frequently than not, every change brings me closer to my Self and therefore is worth whatever cost
• I am capable of balancing work and play, though I don’t always do it
• No matter how big an obstacle might seem, I can overcome it in time
• When I’m overeager to get into romantic relationships, I usually do the most damage to myself and am the most blinded to warning signs
• Perception is a tricky beast, and I can alter mine to see what I want to see when it’s really not good for me. I need to continually ask myself What is? Instead of What do I want to see?
• The Universe and the Mama are constantly taking care of me and providing for me amidst my doubt and inability to see the final outcome
• Trusting the Mama is not a one-time event. It is an every day choice She tells me to make again and again and again
• Trusting the Mama to provide for me is like strengthening a muscle; it needs to be continually exercised in order to grow and become easier to do. And even then, She’ll continually challenge me with heavier weights to keep pushing me to grow
• I have a tendency to reach out to and cling to things that I feel provide some sense of security when I should really be reaching inward
• The Feminine cannot be described with masculine language
• When I resist situations or feelings that I experience, I make it all the harder on myself to integrate those things and/or move past them
• Being is an active state
• Gender is a verb
• There is such a thing as sexual fluidity
• I don’t need to grow “up”, I need to grow “out” and “in”
• I have a tendency to fight the very things I claim to seek and desire when they’re presented to me
• Financial aid departments everywhere SUCK
• Physical beauty as western culture defines it is overrated
• Usually, the more difficult and risky the choice is that’s presented to me is the right one to take
• Validation received from others is something to be balanced with inner-knowing and in light of context
• Sexual assault can be subtle and mild, and no matter how subtle it is, its repercussions can be long-lasting and widespread
• I still have unresolved issues related to my assault that I need to work through that have impacted how I view men in relationship and numerous other things of which I am probably even now not yet aware
• The US court system can be really fucked up
• Men are socialized by patriarchal society to believe that they need not answer to anything but their hormones; that as soon as they are remotely aroused, they’re no longer responsible for their actions
• Darkness is not synonymous with evil and needs to be acknowledged within equally with light
• We are all One (still learning this one)
• Conceptualizing people as either more good than bad or vice versa is oversimplifying and limiting
• I need structure to my every day life (it grounds me), and when life doesn’t provide it for me, I need to create it for myself
• I’m not always good at creating it for myself
• Some times swearing up a storm and potently feeling the rage within me is the only way to begin to release it
• Cockroaches are an inevitable part of living in the south. Suck.
• I have, since July, been committing various acts of surrender to the Mama, each time surrendering a little bit more; each time, learning a new level of that surrender
• Everything is sacred (I keep learning this one again and again, seeing it from different angles and perspectives)
• I rush through too many experiences, eager to get on to the next, and in doing so, I risk losing the valuable lessons those experiences offer
• Nothing likes to be forced
• Time does not exist; it is an illusion
• I’ve gotten pretty good at fucking with time
• There is a difference between knowing something superficially and knowing-living something; truly owning it
• My capacity for compassion may be infinite, but it’s not always easy to practice
• It is easy to lose sight of my inner knowing in the academic institution in which I am studying, and this loss happens to many people all the time. I need to honor my inner knowing while also humbly accepting the instruction from my mentors and professors on certain subjects, integrating that knowledge with my inner knowing
• I am still recovering and working to resolve my parent issues. It’s an ongoing process
• It is easy to regress to old and out-dated ways of being when with people who still behave in those ways or who knew me when I was like that; it takes concerted effort to remain true to my new self and stand in my truth
• Little to nothing at all is absolute or guaranteed
• Perfection does not exist in the way people typically conceptualize it
• Attempting to make things that are fluid concrete is a waste of time and energy and only promises false security
• I still have yet to grasp what the Divine Masculine really is; however,
• The Divine Masculine is not the same thing as what the patriarchy has purported divinity to be
• When major shit is going down in my world, I don’t have or make time to blog (see posts from December of last year)
• Mama prefers to answer questions I should be asking rather than questions I’ve actually asked
• Mama has an incredible sense of humor
• Transformations lead me to become more of my true self, who I am meant to be; thus, any loss I experience through that transformation is loss of what I no longer need, who I no longer am
• Transformations are often terrifying and fucking hard
• Invoking Kali, even unintentionally, will turn your world upside down. A lot.
• Kali wipes away everything I try to grasp at for security
• Some times I need to cleanse my life of people I hold or once held dear
• Losing or ending friendships is always hard no matter how many times I go through it
• Smoking cigarettes is my last-resort coping mechanism. Quitting, no matter how many times I’ve done it before (temporarily, it seems) is hard. Quitting cold turkey induces a lot of headaches.
• I think the Mama loves kicking my ass
• No developmental level is “better” than any other (I’m still working through this one)
• Sharing does not mean I am “less than” (probably still working through this one, too)
• Everyone has something to teach someone
• When learning to fly, falling down is common and necessary
• Transformation is hard work
• There is a difference between loving one’s Self and liking one’s Self
• People are capable of unconditional love
• In order to love my Self, I must first accept my Self
• I still have major issues with the Church that I have not yet worked through
• As self-aware as I like to pride myself on being, some times I just don’t have a clue
• I have the elemental expressions of personality and behavior incredibly confused. Still.
• I am a mermaid, and I’m not entirely sure of everything that means
• Love is the greatest magick

Edited to add:

• Even when I am going through very difficult and trying times in my life, I am still able to maintain a 4.0 GPA. Whoo hoo! I think my short term memory provides enormous assistance in this department
• My continual changing is not a matter of not having established or discovered my identity; to be continually changing and growing IS who I am

So I’ve got this food analogy to explain how I generally approach difficult issues in my life that take some time to sort out which I’m going to be discussing in a minute (daughter of a chef = I can whip up a food analogy for just about anything, no pun intended). When I was thinking about how to begin this post, I started off in my head with, “Have you ever sat down at a table with all this lovely food prepared before you, and though your appetite was huge and you loved what you saw, your stomach just turned at the thought of eating it for some reason?” And the Mama jumped in with, “Oh really? You see all of this as lovely and you want to dive right in?” And she raised an eyebrow. Shit. Touché, Mama. Then I thought of a little kid who’s a terribly picky eater being forced to eat peas (memories from childhood here), and the little kid is whining. No, that’s not me. “Oh?” the Mama interjects. Not all the time, Mama. “Mm-hmm…” with Her eyebrow still raised and now She’s just crossed her arms. Fuck.

Yes, some times a lot of the time, that’s me. I go on and on about how I want to grow, but when it comes down to doing the work and when facing the not-beauty that is a bunch of the issues I’m dealing with isn’t pleasant, I don’t want to dive right in. Whether they’re good for me or not, I hate peas.

I have a number of big issues that are arrayed on this vast dining room table in front of me at the moment. And the thing with big issues – particularly ones I don’t want to just gobble up – is that I can’t sort them all out at once. I can’t sort one of them in one sitting. Or I probably could but the thought makes me want to vomit. Because they’re all things that I’d like to pretend aren’t before me. That gigantic bowl of peas (issues with my parents), a huge tray of olives (internship details), a large plate of coleslaw (issues of shame/guilt), etc. And that’s not even all. There’s a big vat of lima beans, another bowl of kidney beans, and I think I smelled some boiled cabbage lurking around here, too. So I sit here, at this proverbial table, staring at these things. Most of the time, I’m trying to will them into non-existence while the rest of the time I’m trying to build up the courage to at least take a bite. And let’s just say that the going is slow.

So what’s on your table? How do you approach and manage to eat up all the unpleasant dishes in your life?

Grace over at The Wild Pomegranate wrote a post recently expressing some frustration with the Christian faith and the lack of first-hand knowledge Jesus didn’t record in written form. Before I read her post this morning, I was thinking about Christianity myself, my own conservative Christian upbringing, JC, and the whole concept of being a child of God versus being an adult of God. *

I think part of what I consider to be Christianity’s problem is that most Christian leaders out there are still children of God, despite whatever their chronological age is. They’re kids. Most, if not all, children, by their very nature, cannot understand complexities. Their worlds are generally black and white. And I’m not being ageist here – it’s totally normal. All of that pre-frontal lobe not being fully developed stuff. So abstractions, metaphors, and other forms of complex concepts are, a lot of the time, lost on them. Chronological children aren’t supposed to understand those types of things. Also, they tend to take most everything literally. This can lead to them just not getting “it”, but worse, especially in the case of the child who’s really a chronological adult and is leading (an) entire congregation(s), is that they don’t even realize they haven’t gotten it. The other thing about children is that they can be damn nasty little brats. I’m sure you’ve had experiences from your own childhood or have made observations on your children’s peers that can attest to this. They can be mean, bossy, know-it-alls who insist on getting their way and insist that there is no other way. However, when we accept the responsibility to be leaders of any faith system that excuse – the one where we’re not supposed to understand because we’re at a certain developmental level – doesn’t quite cut it.**

Personally, I think most of Jesus’ early followers were also children of God in adult bodies. And really, I don’t think he did them any favors by stressing the whole “being a child of God” bit. It’s a beautiful concept in and of itself, and I think it helps people to feel a deeper connection with their Creator, but I feel like it was something he should have followed up on, you know? Cause now it seems like there are a whole mess of leaders with this spiritual Peter Pan syndrome. Anyway, back to JC and his peeps when they were all hanging out together. JC taught in parables and stories. Why? Because that’s how children learn best. Unfortunately, unless you take the time to walk them through the deeper meaning of the story (which is one way to help them become adults of God), whether or not they get that meaning is a gamble, and one that, personally, I think Jesus risked and lost.

I remember having a conversation with my dad the summer after I began studying Paganism about JC and salvation. He quoted the scripture that goes something like, “I am the way, the truth, and the life…no one shall reach the father except through me” and asked me what I made of it. Immediately, I realized that he (and most every other Christian) took this passage literally. I pointed out Jesus’ rather consistent track record of teaching in parables and metaphors and asked why my dad thought this teaching was any different. It’s so simple, he replied, of course he meant it literally. Enter child of God thinking. Just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it’s straightforward. When I introduced the idea that maybe what Jesus meant when he said “I” was everything he embodied: Love, Mercy, Compassion, Forgiveness, Hope, etc. – the very essence of Christ consciousness (which, unfortunately, is usually not taught in most churches because the leaders are still children of God themselves). My dad found the idea preposterous. Right.

But that’s what I think being an adult of God in the Christian faith system would look like: an understanding of, living of (though not necessarily perfectly) Christ consciousness. As a Pagan, I can appreciate and honor Christ consciousness and its beauty, though recognize that it’s not for me. But people who live in Christ consciousness – think Mother Theresa when she was still on the planet – are amazing people. They don’t hate, they don’t judge, they don’t condemn, they’re not the ones who are saying, “It’s my way or the highway” on the road to union with Divinity. You might know or have run into some of these people. They’re the ones that when you find out they’re Christian, you might say, “No! Really?” because they don’t act like the majority of Christians with whom you’ve probably come into contact.

A spiritual leader is supposed to guide people in their spiritual development, assess where they are, find out what they need to come into deeper connection with Divinity, and help them get there. So if the leader is a 3-yr old wandering around in spiritual Pull-ups in an adult body still being a child of God, how are they supposed to bring people to deeper levels of spiritual development than where they themselves are? In this case, the whole idea of children leading children doesn’t seem to fly to me. If more Christian leaders were adults of God and could guide the every day Joe Christian to understanding of what it means to be an adult of God and help him get there, I think there would be a whole lot less hypocrisy and ugliness in the Church. But it’s got to start with the leaders.

I can’t tell you how many times when I was growing up in the Church I heard either from my parents, who were very active in the Church on numerous levels, or other Church leaders that the safest (or most dangerous, depending on your perspective) place to be in the Church to hide your faith or ignore your spiritual development and not be held accountable for it was in a position of leadership. I don’t know about you, but to me, that’s pretty fucked up. It makes me wonder – I know that when I graduate from my program and get my degree and get licensed that it is my professional responsibility to amass hours of continuing education each year for the rest of my career in order to keep abreast of what’s going on in my field, further my specialization and development as a professional counselor, and continue practicing ethically. I get these CEUs by attending conferences, workshops, seminars, etc. held by other leaders or professionals in the field who are more advanced in their professional development than I. The same is true, I believe, in the fields of psychology, psychiatry, and medicine, and perhaps others (I’m not sure). Why isn’t there something set in place like this for spiritual leaders of organized religions?

*Disclaimer #1: I’ve got a beef with the Church. And it’s not a little McDonald-sized wanna-be hamburger. It’s a freakin’ big-ass Porterhouse. Consider yourself forewarned.

**Disclaimer #2: I, as in me, am still walking through the whole more-advanced-stages-of-spiritual-development-aren’t-BETTER-than-less-advanced-stages-of-spiritual-development concept. It’s something I’m working on, and I totally admit that I’m not there yet. That is my own personal bias I’m sorting out because, though I’ve made some progress, I’m not yet to the point where I truly “get” that all stages of spiritual development are equal. It’s a tricky beast for me, and it’s left over from…something…that’s very hierarchical in my brain. I do get that everyone is at different stages of development, and I get that that’s the way it’s supposed to be, and I’ve just recently started wrapping myself around the idea that we all – no matter what stage of spiritual development we’re in – have something to teach others who are in different stages, whether more “advanced” or less “advanced.” Now, back to Christianity and its leaders.

Spring is beginning to take a firm hold on northern Georgia (finally). Some trees are still budding, some not quite even there yet, but that beautiful, life-affirming baby green colors much of the landscape around where I live. I was driving home from class this evening, and I noticed the crepe myrtle trees lining the highway. These trees are resplendent in summer with bright, vibrant colors, and I’ve been longingly anticipating their return over the past month. Right now, the trees are covered in puffs of muted, semi-brown/golden puffs that could easily be mistaken for dying leaves or blossoms threatened by frost. But in reality, they are really about to burst into bloom.

Many people I know right now are undergoing (resisting, anticipating, or dipping their toes into the water of) transformations, transitions, new beginnings, etc. As I gazed upon these trees which will soon be magnificently beautiful, I thought of how often we view (how often I have viewed) transformation, transmutation, transitions, and the like with a dreadful trepidation. How often I had (and not too far in the recent past) thought the transformation chasing after me and hunting me down was a death or dying of sorts, an overwhelming loss from which I would only painstakingly recover. How easy it is to mistake new life creeping out from under the thick layers of Self as death, as only an ending without a beginning to follow, as finality. And yet, in my experience, it is these situations and transformations that are frequently the most glorious, the most beautiful, the most life-giving and life-affirming.

This is not to say that there isn’t an aspect of loss or death of something when we undergo transformations. Usually, there is. But it is not as final as we might initially believe. It is the same as pruning plants to make way for new growth, for new birth. And just as cutting away at those plants might leave them looking a little sorry, temporarily speaking, because we have cared for them in this manner, they grow even more robust than we could have imagined. I think the same is true for our Selves.

I’ve said before that I had originally approached my last major transformation with feelings of bitterness and resentment. Why was it necessary? What was wrong with the way I was? Why did I have to change? Why did I have to lose my Self? I think most of us facing transformations (or running from them) throw these questions around our heads and chew on them till they lose their flavor, at which point we either keep chewing, denying the flavor is gone and that perhaps it’s time to seek answers because we are not ready to hear what those answers will be or we summon our courage, take a deep breath and wait, listening for them.

Truly, it takes a great deal of courage to face any type of transformation. I have run from many a transformation, and I have kicked and screamed and clawed my way through numerous others, bitching the entire time. Openly embracing them is definitely the exception for me. Each of us is different, and there is no assigning certain timings to anyone concerning when or whether they should embrace what is waiting for them. It is here, it seems to me, that inner knowing is at its most significant. The only one to know when or whether we are ready for what is awaiting us is our Self.

I hold true to my conclusions in that transformations are not a matter of losing our Selves, but becoming our Selves, our True Selves. And while there is a degree of death in all changes, a loss of sorts, and that loss is to be honored and perhaps mourned, we can lose the potency of the transformation and the beauty of it if we become so distracted by the loss that we forget to look for the life about to burst into bloom.