Goddess Thealogy

The World Altar

For today’s #Thealogy Thursday, I want to share a spiritual knowing that revealed itself to me. I do not in any way claim that it is Truth, but rather, share it as an outpouring of the blessing it gave me. I’ve written recently of my difficulties with finding family, so this envisioning held special meaning to me. I find my belonging and my being encapsulated in it.

In my vision, I saw four altars: to Self, a romantic partner, my family of origin and my children. Everyone would have these stones of sacrifice, although the recipients of our dedication may vary. In relationship, each altar becomes a table of living reverance, on which we gift of ourselves. When the object of our devotion is no longer in our lives, the altar transforms to a grave – table to headstone. The meaning of the relationship and the lessons learned from it inscribed themselves on it. My altar to my family of origin is a grave as that relationship is irrevocably severed. For romantic partner and child, I hold the liminal space between conception and decay, uncertain as to whether to mourn their absence or whether to pour of myself to enliven the dedication. On my altar to Self, I make sacrifice; I invest in myself and venerate my body. At times, I’ve clung to its rocky facade as the only relic I had.

As this knowing unfolded, I saw myself turning ’round in this sacred place. The landscape was dotted with circular altars. One stood out from the rest. The altar to Goddess, to Earth, to the World and Universe, to all of Being. So large that every human and every creature could fit around its circumference. Sacrifices here return to the giver in abundance. Life-giver, guardian of the deep, all that is. Tunneled in every direction from this altar was a web connected to each of the individual altars; She under-girds all we do.

Everything to which we dedicate ourselves exists within this medium. There is no escape in the most affirming way possible. Sure, we can enslave ourselves to false pillars from which no life has ever emanated. We can serve graves and mourn the living. We can spend decades holding fast to the cold marble of bygone or neverhad, unaware of the abundance which would flourish if we would simply unfix our gaze. But we don’t have to anymore. More than knowing, I experienced this reality—the belonging to and for and how that for so long has evaded me.

I find a profound justice in this model of the world. No matter the altar, each of us meets our end on this outstretched plain. She calls everyone to Her when they die, returning all to Herself. No one gets to write the last lines of their story except for Her.

In the glow of this revelation, I think transcendence occurs when we are able to glimpse our altar to Self turning to grave and relish the gathering dust as our final gift to the world. We can die not clinging to the edifies of what was or should have been, but prostrating ourselves in gratitude for what has been received as well as taken. Only in the exchange of being held and losing refuge do we meet love.

Does this mean we should not grieve what is gone and what could never be? No, but I think we do well to know when it is that we face memory and when it is that we face possibility. Mourning is relevant, sacred and true. It may mean we spend time clinging to and scrapping at rock, willing life where it no longer blossoms. If we give ourselves over to it wholly, I think mourning eventually allows us to set our back against tomb and to recircle ourselves with all who celebrate Her. Love is daring to devote ourselves to Self and others, with an embodied understanding that time loops us all into non-existence or at least recycles every bit of who we are. Life is so precious that nothing endures.

Toko-Pa Turner has noted that sacrifice means to make sacred. My vision revealed the depths of this for me in a way that has unbound my heart and released my holding to flimsy and false rockface. I have home now, stone steps and the wide berth of granite that goes on forever. I rise to meet Her there, carefully placing each flower and spoon of honey and grain offering in turn. She consumes them as She envelops me. I am remade each time I offer myself, returning lighter and deeper and fuller. There is nowhere we can go without Her, and no one She cannot transform at the World Altar.

Goddessing Self Care

No Permission Needed

Cross-posted at my SageWoman blog.

Do you know yourself wholly? Do you fully inhabit your body? Are you who you believe you have to be, or are you settled into yourself? For today’s #GoddessingSelfCare Sunday, I invite you to take a few minutes to reflect on self-care through the lens of freedom from shame.

Perhaps you find yourself boxed in by the “should’s”–the limits others place on us in order to define their own needs through our self-abdication. The messages they relay are that you should behave, belief, feel, want and look the way another wants you to. Or, the mustn’ts: don’t do, say, emote, think or appear in a displeasing way. Over time, if we order ourselves by these commands, others need not state them overtly; we self-shame our being into tiny compartments.

The religion of my youth taught me that I was bad, and that my inherent badness separated me from the Holy. There was nothing I could do to remove this stain; I had to accept another’s sacrifice in my stead. I was unworthy. I find myself contemplating whether, for some people, this dichotomization of Holy and unclean then becomes an inner separation into parts. Some parts are pure and some parts are tainted. Within such a system, I could never become whole because half of me was unwelcome.

As I’ve exercised my heart through Goddess spirituality, I’ve found release from some of these restrictions. I suspect that the belief that Goddess is both in me and in everything helps to diminish my personal shame. Nothing in me is off bounds or unneeded. Should’s and mustn’ts can be replaced by invitations and openings to Divine in myself and in all there is.

I find myself wondering, though, what to make of the malevolent forces both inside and outside of myself. Our desire for accountability, sought by wishing for karma and trusting in human systems of justice for transformation of these evils often falls short, holding only the weakest and poorest in us and others to disproportionate punishment. In compensation, I’ve gripped ahold of the idea that Nature takes back her own as a concept of justice, of righting wrongs. It may take a minute or millennia, but eventually those who occupy their lives with conquests and domination endanger both themselves and their descendants through their selfishness. All the monstrous human beings who’ve ever existed died within a century or so. I’m not convinced we need heaven and hell; our molecules will eventually be repossessed by Nature in particle form. We are already Her’s as we cannot live without Her breath, Her warmth and Her liquid. She will be here, with or without our species. For now, each generation birthed from Her womb has an opportunity to unscript the destructive norms of its parents and to gentle the earth with its presence.

We need no one’s authority but our own to inhabit the full breadth and width of who we truly are. To honor the existence of Source in each of us, even if some are dispossessed of our awareness of Her.  To allow Goddess to soften, in Her gentle way, the calluses with which punching at life has left us. The more I permission myself whole, the more I extend that freedom to others in their Inner Being.

Where do you need less self-constriction? In what ways have you internalized shame from others? To what extent does the concept of Nature holding the cards at the end of it all satisfy your desire for justice?