The Divine Masculine

Note: I use the following terms synonymously – Divine, Sacred, True – when describing the Feminine and the Masculine.

Recently, I have begun trying to understand the place of the Divine Masculine. I realize this may come as a surprise since I don’t think I have ever discussed this topic here before. It came as a bit of a surprise to me as well, but it was one of those things that the Universe knocked me upside the head with. It was time to open myself to learning the True essence of the Divine Masculine and more fully let go of the essence I had had ingrained in me as a child growing up in the Christian Church. My initial fears were potent: if I let the Divine Masculine in, it’ll take over and the Sacred Feminine I have worked so hard to exhume from the depths of my being will be snuffed out; the Divine Masculine is really a more powerful representation of the Patriarchical masculine; there cannot be a balance between the two; the Sacred Feminine needs my voice more than the Divine Masculine does, and if I let it in, my voice will again be lost after my just having found it, etc.

I think those of us who (re)discover the Sacred Feminine in our lives feel the need to cling to it, to hold on for dear life and never open our clenched little fists from around our Mother’s skirts. I think this is wholly understandable for many women. I want to be clear in that. When my friend Fox first brought up her desire to address the True Masculine a month or so ago, I responded with the rage of Lillith. NO!! I roared. It is not time yet! The Masculine has had his time and look what he has done with it! Now is the time for the Sacred Feminine! I remember being surprised at the strength of my reaction to her. But as she explained that while the Sacred Feminine has been lost, the True Masculine has been perverted into Patriarchy, I knew that I knew it was True. What is paraded around right now, particularly by the Church, as the Divine Masculine is not the Divine Masculine at all. It is the Patriarchy in costume.

As I’ve begun to embrace the concept of Oneness as Truth, I have realized that I cannot exclude a full half of that One, and that I would need to begin to try to See the Divine Masculine for what it truly is and eliminate what it is not. But my fear of it overpowering the feminine still remained. How do I study the Divine Masculine while remaining firmly rooted in my Sacred Femininity?

I began reading I Sit Listening by Judith Duerk – the sequel to Circle of Stones. In it, Duerk describes the Yang within each woman and what it can do to her inner Yin. I haven’t finished the book yet, but so far, some of the content is rubbing me the wrong way. I’ve interpreted (and I don’t remember if she explicitly stated this) the Yang as each woman’s Divine Masculine, and I have serious issue with Duerk saying that a major quality of the Yang is to dominate. She describes its approach as bold, direct, demonstrative (which I do agree with), but what I See in her description is not the Divine Masculine as it is the Patriarchy. That, to me, is not the Divine Masculine. I’m just beginning the struggle of wrapping myself around it, but so far, the best way (and what I think of as the Truest way) for me to conceptualize the True Masculine and the Sacred Feminine is that each is the other’s beloved. They ache for each other equally. And let me tell you, it is huge for me to sit here, type this, and say that, from what I’ve read so far, Judith Duerk doesn’t get what the Divine Masculine in a woman CAN BE. We are told that these kind of circumstances are depictions of ‘hubris of the young/ignorant/insert any other word here.’ That is the kind of experience that is meant to quiet us, to steal our voice. I refuse to succumb to it anymore. I am celebrating this moment as I tune in to my inner knowing and say that a woman who is a published author might be wrong. And maybe as I continue reading, these issues will be addressed, but I am not going to lose out on the opportunity to revel in asserting my inner knowing.

But Duerk does address our need to stay grounded in our Sacred Feminine while not shutting the Masculine out. So what will this look like for me as I explore the Divine Masculine in its Truth? My inner knowing tells me that I need to explore it in its relation to the Divine Feminine. To study the two and their dynamic with each other. I feel that this is how we will bring about a more equal society. If we are to only study the Sacred Feminine, little will be in place to stop the pendulum from swinging to the other side. But if we are to study the Truth of the Two together, we stand a far greater chance of ending up where, I believe, we are meant to be.

And yet, I think it is equally important to sit and be with where we are right now, how far off we have gotten. Not in the sense of stagnation and wallowing so as to not be able to move forward, but as a sense of honoring our pain and suffering so that we can truly Know where it is we have been and where it is we need to go. How very stereotypically Masculine it is to immediately try to fix something, and yet, how very extreme Feminine it is to sit with something and let it marinate in our beings, perhaps some times too long. Do you see? The two need each other.

I came to my parents for Thanskgiving and as I was waiting for my mom to get home from work and my dad had left for his work several hours before, I went to their piano. I used to play piano for about 11 yrs and was pretty good, though I haven’t played in a long time. I started out with a simple blues line. And as I was playing, I began to see it in music, too. The Masculine is the left hand base line providing the structure for the Feminine melody to be showcased in the right. And how wonderful that even in that they were switched – the right was Feminine and the left was Masculine. Balance.

During a recent conversation with signmom when I realized a lot of the fears I have about opening myself to the Divine Masculine, she explained how she saw the relationship of the Divine Masculine and Feminine with each other. She spoke of the face of an opal and told me how if you look at one part of an opal in a certain light, it might be blue. Then, if you tilt it to a slightly different angle, that same part becomes another color. So it is with the Divine Masculine and Feminine. They are not two separate entities, they are parts of a whole, fluid, with one moving through the other constantly.


What is perfect?

The topic of perfection has popped its head up at me again.  I’ve been a perfectionist for most of my life, as I’ve previously discussed here (somewhere), but within the past couple years, I’ve let go of the more unproductive side of that trait.  So when the universe tossed this construct at me, I began looking at it again, but through different eyes.

The first thing that came to my mind in thinking about most people’s struggles with trying to be perfect is that we need to redefine what perfect is.  And I know, that might make you balk because ‘perfect’ seems like one of those absolute, un-touchable constructs that can’t be modified, but I disagree.  I think our idea of ‘perfect’ being some absolute construct is a load of shit because truly, I don’t think anything is absolute.

I think back to what I thought was absolute a couple years ago and realize that I see all of those things as fluid now.  I think perfect is just another item to be not moved to fluidity, because I think it’s already there, and our placement of it as an absolute it just an illusion.  So, it needs to be recognized as fluid.  For if it’s fluid, then it can be, well, not redefined because I see only concrete things need redefining (and really, is anything truly concrete?  My thought is no, ‘concrete’ is an illusion, and everything is actually fluid), so perhaps more accurately, seen and understood for the fluid notion that it is.

I recall something that Sue Ann posted on my blog recently – “I am perfect through my imperfections” (or something like that).  Now, I some times think of Sue Ann as a Yoda of sorts in that some things she says take me forever to wrap myself around, but I think that this statement is about recognizing perfection as fluid.

On a nitty-gritty level, I think that the reason we spend so much time trying to be or do something other than what we are is because we don’t value what we are.  I think our recognizing our own perfection, our own wholeness, starts there.  Otherwise, striving to be something else stems from a feeling of “should” that we take on to ourselves from the outside world and is more trying to get away from what we are.  We will never feel whole or perfect if we are constantly doing that. When really, we are perfect because we ARE.  We are who we are right now because that is where we are meant to be and there is meaning in that.  I am as I am.  You are as You are.  I think we strive to be what we think is perfect (which is really just a blanket/general idea of ‘something else’) because we do not see the meaning in who we are right now.

Truly, I think ‘concrete’ is an illusion.  I think nothing is concrete. And yet, how often do we try to make things concrete?  We do it all the time.  It’s why we have labels for everything, why we categorize everything.  We are uncomfortable with the fluid because it changes and it therefore has a degree of the ‘unknown’ in it by nature, so we try to solidify it so it is less threatening.  But because everything is fluid, we struggle when we try to make it concrete.  We’d rather hang on to our illusion of concreteness and struggle instead of letting go of the illusion and flowing with the natural fluidity of life.  Unfortunately, a major drawback/side effect of trying to make everything concrete is that we sacrifice meaning and substance in the process.

Plant help please!

When my parents moved last year at about this time, they left me one of their plants. I have no idea what kind of plant it is (nor do they, unfortunately), but this plant has been very happy with me. Now that the weather is getting colder, though, she’s less happy. Especially since she can’t be outside, and the light I get in my apartment isn’t as much as she’s used to out on the balcony. Leaves have been dropping like mad, and I’m getting a bit worried. I know next to nothing about plants, and while this little lady and I had been getting along great, she’s now pissed as hell at me it seems.

I just got back from a short trip and went to move her into my bedroom which gets better light than my living room where she’d been hanging out and noticed that the pot she’s been in since before I got her is cracked. I don’t know if the crack was caused by the change in temperature or if she’s outgrowing her potted home and needs to be transplanted or what. It’s obvious I need to get a new pot, but I’ve never transplanted anything before and given that I don’t even know what kind of plant she is, I’m in a bit of a quandary. So, I’d like to enlist some help from you more plant-knowledgeable readers out there. I’ve pasted a picture of my baby below. I welcome all suggestions and information regarding her species, what kind of pot to get, what soil to use, if I should feed her with some sort of fertilizer, why the pot broke, how to transplant her, etc. She’s my first plant, and we’ve done so well together – I don’t want to lose her! Many thanks!




Standing in one’s truth

About a little over a year ago, I went to a seminar on stick and knife fighting at the school where I was taking cardio kickboxing classes.  I fell so completely in love with it (remnants of past lives as a warrior) that I decided to start taking the regular karate classes offered at the school.  I went to several other seminars between last September and May when I moved from PA down to GA, some of which focused on the Kenpo karate I was learning and others which focused on stick and knife fighting as well as a counter-attack system based on a combination of Kenpo karate and a few other types of Filipino martial art systems.

When I first began learning the counter-attack system, we would work drills to help establish muscle memory for different checks and counter attacks.  My instructor emphasized the importance of being very “light” with the drills, not heavy-handed.  This took (and still takes) concerted effort for me as I have a tendency to want to muscle everything.  Yesterday, I attended another stick and knife fighting seminar and was working some knife tapping drills with another student.  Even though I’ve only done this exercise a small handful of times, I seem to have a knack for it; but, I noticed I was having serious difficulty when working with this one other student.  I would go back and switch to working with my friend who was this guy’s teacher and with the man leading the seminar and I had no problems, but for some reason, this other student was different.  And then it hit me.  He was very heavy-handed and not light at all.  His movements felt very muscled, forced, and consequently awkward.  And I noticed that whenever I would work the drill with him, my movements, though starting off soft and fluid, began to mirror his in that they became less fluid, less flowing, more stiff and rigid.  I realized that when I worked with my friend or the seminar instructor, my movements would mirror theirs in feel and energy.

As I continued to process this, it made me think of my every day life and interactions with others and the whole issue of integrating all these different aspects of myself so that I’m not so disjointed in these different areas of my life.  I began to see this pattern of not staying within the energy that I want to embrace when I’m around others who are acting from a very contrary energy.  And I thought of how universal this problem is.  How often do we find ourselves snapping back to someone who snaps at us even though we had initially approached them in a more kindly manner?  How often do we feel ourselves unintentionally creating and operating from a place of negative energy when we are surrounded by it, though that’s not where we usually operate from?  How many times have you begun a discussion with someone, had them become argumentative and found yourself beginning to argue back in the same tone, so very different from your original one?

For me, all of these situations seem to boil down to, How do we stand in the Truth of who we are no matter what?  Is it even possible to do so all of the time?  Does standing in that place mean we never snap at others, never let ourselves stoop to levels of maturity we like to think we’ve grown out of?  Or is the strength in which we stand in that place measured by what we do immediately after we realize we’ve moved outside of it?  My gut tells me the potency and strength with which we stand in our Truth is more so determined by this last question.

How I lost my voice

From before I can remember, my older sister was constantly teasing me, provoking me, making fun of me, mentally torturing me. And it was always un-provoked. I never did anything to her to instigate her behavior. Lots of people have tales of “sibling rivalry” – that was not what my sister and I did. One time when I was in early high school, we were in the kitchen arguing, and she grabbed one of my dad’s chef’s knives from the knife block. Thankfully, I was faster than she was and made it to my room and locked the door. Another time, I ran after her with a shaving razor. Long before then, though, it started with words. Being about 2 1/2 yrs younger than she, I was no match for her intellectually (even intellectually as a 6 yr old), but I was always stronger. Always.

I was born strong. Literally. During that very early test the doctors do on babies when they move the baby’s arms and legs to make sure everything’s okay, the doctor could not get my legs to part (you can imagine how fun it was growing up having that story told and retold countless times, particularly during puberty). When I was three years old, I got a splinter under the nail of my middle finger that went all the way down to my cuticle (this is one of my first memories). It took 5 doctors, nurses, and interns to hold me down on the hospital bed in the emergency room.

So, that was how I fought back against my sister. Literally. I would kick and scratch and smack and who knows what else. And I would get in trouble. After they were finished yelling at me for beating my sister up, and when I eventually had the capacity to explain myself and tell them what she’d been doing, they had one piece of advice and word of comfort for me: Ignore her. Obviously, my parents were clueless as to physiological and brain development children undergo. I mean, you don’t have to be a pediatric neurologist to know that a 5 yr old doesn’t understand “ignore her” nor can she even begin to be able to do so.

I HATED that this was their “solution.” I’m still incredulous that this was their solution. Eventually, as I got older and my sister continued to pick on me, they figured out that she was the instigator and finally began taking my side more often whenever she would complain to them that I’d hit her. “You probably deserved it,” they’d say to her. But the damage had been done for me by that point. And I’ve only just started to put together what that damage was.

My parents taught me to ignore and just “take” someone inflicting pain on me. They taught me that my pain didn’t matter, that it wasn’t significant. They taught me that I would get in trouble or risk not being loved if I fought back against someone hurting me. They taught me that they did not care as much about me as they did about my sister. That my well-being was not so important that she be punished for hurting me.

They taught me to silence my voice.

They betrayed me in their role as parents, protectors.

In telling me to “ignore her,” they were really telling me to ignore myself.  My Self.

I think back to the shitty friends I had in middle school and junior high, and my inability to assert myself to them. I think about the numerous romantic encounters which went further than I’d originally planned for them to go, and my inability to say STOP! I think about every guy who’s ever asked me for my phone number that I didn’t want to give it to, but did. I think about my sexual assault that took place a couple months ago and, though I’m glad I was able to get my STOP! out when I did, I think about my inability to have voiced it sooner.

See, I generalized that lesson of “ignore her” that my parents taught me some 20 odd years ago, and I have been fighting to reclaim my voice ever since. I never knew exactly how it was that it had gotten lost.

Now, having rediscovered the origins of that loss, I am armed to the teeth with rich, loud, ever-present, unable-to-ignore, attention-demanding, wild-woman, straight-from-the-yoni VOICE. And I will never be silent again.