Sacred Spiritual Growth

Decay and Rot: The Spiritual Life Cycle

“…Dreaming is nature naturing through us. Just as a tree bears fruit or a plant expresses itself in flowers, dreams are fruiting from us.” Toko-Pa Turner, Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home, pg. 18

I’ve dipped my toes into paying more attention to my dreams and trying to understand what they represent for me. Buildings in the form of large complexes, giant Victorian houses, and opulent developments have pervaded my dreams for years. Most of them, though, are not in pristine condition. Instead, the walls are peeling, the roof is cracked open and the moldy floor creaks loudly. The destructive force is nearly always time and water; the structures have sat abandoned and flooded.

After dealing with actual water intrusion years ago, I took the dreams to be a near-flashback of those events. However, the persistence of the theme has caused me to take a deeper look at it. My therapist shared with me that water represents emotions. I’ve read elsewhere that buildings can represent the body or one’s inner life. It may be representative of my fear that my feelings roil me inwardly and threaten to bring things crashing down.

Rather than fixating on a conceptualization of my dream as symbolic of inner demons or self-neglect of my corporal state, I find myself opening instead to a desire to accept the decrepit state of the houses of my mind as a potentially necessary, vital aspect of life on a physical, emotional and spiritual plane. My early fundamentalist training would have rebelled at any mention that something which was not pure, clean and sturdy could be good, so that makes the examination more desirable to me as an act of defiance.

In current American society, we wield destruction as a battle axe. Want to construct a new building? Tear up the earth, hammer in dead trees, slap on some plastic and you’re done. There is little room for decay in this model as there is a pervasive focus on the new, best, fastest and strongest as the goal. My introduction to permaculture has lent me another model of planning, one which has at least elements of the slow and gentle.

These threads of dream and design have woven themselves together in my mind to create a tapestry of a spiritual life cycle. It holds a focus on ecology in that it allows for dissolution—things falling apart and losing integrity—as a key component. Our current cultural life cycle diagram is simply an arrow pointing straight up; we are pressed with the need to maintain the vigor, looks and future-promise mindedness of youth for our entire lives. We can always try harder. We can always look better. Things will always improve; negativity has no place in a mature spiritual life. These statements are false. One of the greatest takeaways I had from Toko-pa’s book is that I finally understand “feminine energy;” the perspective she offered is reconfiguring everything I thought would save me. Instead of striving, there are times where we can open. Instead of force, there are times where we can yield. Instead of progress, perhaps there is room for degeneration as a path to renewal.

The frayed, soiled and ripped edge of the spiritual life cycle fabric my Inner Being’s woven, when closely examined, appears as follows:

  • Sometimes it is okay to cease effort and to instead receive, open and listen for Source. We can rest, physically, emotionally and spiritually, without any expectation of the next step or where we are headed, in the bosom of Goddess.
  • There are times when things are going to completely fall apart. When resting isn’t enough because the water we drink springs right back out of us. Grief is a well into which we pour and from which we long to escape. If we instead allow ourselves to be there, and to be witnessed there, what initially rises to us tinged in sulfurous odors from which we recoil may eventually become a healing aroma.
  • Nature takes back what is Her’s through rot, mold and the curling of green after fall’s last warmth. She takes back to renew and reuse. We can become so concerned with maintaining our façade in clean lines and polished surfaces, refusing to acknowledge that something stinks in us. If we finally notice it, we snap into action and desire to cut it out at its root. The tree, though, when it sustains a wound, does not immediately start carving itself apart. Instead, it calluses off the infection, leaving the bugs and the water and the sun to soften and loosen the contagion from its core. What if we took the same approach to our “sins” by acting in acceptance of our humanity, our flaws, and our eventual collapse as a being? Perhaps we could respond by tenderly acknowledging where we lack, compassionately setting inner boundaries and then waiting in expectation for the ways in which life is going slowly tear from us whatever nails we think necessary to hold together the covering of our innermost needs in order to enlighten and fade the shadows we know we have.
  • We die. I came across a book titled “How Not to Die” and contemplated purchasing it until I realized the basic premise was flawed. We meet our end, at least physically. All our effort and determination to prevent it from happening are useless. I so deeply and desperately want, when that moment arrives, to say “welcome.” Because what else is there to say? If all the energy we’ve put into perfecting ourselves culminates in us ending, why not conserve some of it for facing the task of aging and diminishing? If we live a full life, we almost always stand to lose our independence, our vocation, possibly our wits and must grapple with the recognition of the unfairness of life. Some trees land as seeds in the sun near a river; they want for nothing. Others fall in the shade or dry spots and half-starve their whole lives. Even if our early life is filled with resources, eventually we decay and then we die. What a challenge to our bravery, to stop resisting what will be or is being taken from us with the passage of time, to stop viewing it as a theft or an obstacle we can overcome with bargaining and to instead hold open the door for it, noticing perhaps that the pallor of its shadow leaves us wiser and bolder.
  • What is spiritual decline and death? I assume we must face it, probably multiple times our lives. How can we allow for Goddess/Deity to work it out in us without striving for order before its time? I suspect that often, by the moment we notice what is happening, the roots of it are already interwoven through everything we hold onto and hold up as “the best way;” we set ourselves up for a painful displacement when we believe our current identities are perennial.
  • Spiritual decline can be gradual or fast, partial or total but is always a movement towards disorder and entropy. What once seemed righted and straight is now sloping and cracked. The luster has worn off; our practices show signs of use. We are no longer comforted by the beliefs and rituals that were once soothing. I’ve experienced this at least once on a significant level in my life when I abdicated my previous religion. What I’ve concluded is that my prior devotion was real and deep and that the unmaking of it was a necessity. We needn’t reinvent ourselves at a whim; life will let us know when it is time to shuffle the deck. Courage to me is the willingness to accept that we can outgrow the paradigm under which we’ve ordered ourselves and the tenacity to then step out into the unknown, untethered and uncertain as to which way is up.

If you’ve followed my blog for any length of time, you’ve seen that the majority of the images I use are nature photographs I’ve taken. The long winter has been a struggle for me as I found myself judging possible photos as “ugly” because they were pictures of dead or dying vegetation. I believe that these plants are unattractive to us, and, in contrast, that full blooms of flowers can lead us to weep because of the evolutionary importance of living floras to sustain us. After contemplating the nature of the low point on the spiritual life cycle, I want to advance beyond this biological bias to hone in on at least a type of loveliness in bent, brown stalks. From where else does new life arise but from the crumble of the formerly green?

Returning to my dreams, I am also struck by the fact that the buildings I create are being retaken not by inert and inorganic machinations but through a destruction spread by natural forces. The edifices of my life that I’ve so extravagantly decorated, are, despite their complexity, vulnerable. But what seeks to invade them is not a conquering force, instead, it comes for its own. We are natural beings and, to me, Nature is a spiritual entity. The tar, plastic and webbing of “information” we’ve constructed, as well as the facades of our bodies and spirits in perpetual youth that we’ve designed, form the infection. We can either allow Her to decay us as we need to be decayed, or we can continue to build what we see as impenetrable barricades—how not to die—all the while dying and dying again to future growth.

Magic & Phrase

Generosity

Be generosity to the weeds embedded in the edge of my heart.

Nurturance and tenderness to their prickly stalks and tiny flowers.

 

Not all memories held within are solid or kind.

 

Unicorn pastels roses lace teacups encircled neatly in the clearing.

Now.

Sharp thorns of musty basement arm shoved down choking shame blindness from fear poke through.

 

Garden gate swings inward.

Here ruins and pretense in sculpted and cultivated ornamental lawns lie.

 

Entrust me my wildness and tangled thickets.

Remain the weak, the poisonous and the brambles of pain.

Spare also the daisies.

 

Devour in earth time all of me.

Now.

No more vines plucking out. No more saving the pretty from the dirty.

 

Heartside welcomes the full shape of my past spiky and curved.

Showers of calm and breezes of affection settle in.

 

Weeds and flowers together run riot in the growth of my remembrances and I belong to all of it.

Goddess Thealogy

Deepening Study and Practice

Roughly the first decade of my life was spent without access to a television. No video games, no cell phone, no computer or tablet. Without electronic distractions, I entertained myself largely through reading books. I could completely lose myself while engrossed in a story. In addition, unlike many of my classmates, the information I learned in school did not bore me, instead, I had a voracious appetite and keen ability to absorb facts and ideas. My love of learning sustained me and persists as a stabilizing element in my life. As I’ve matured, embodied knowledge, that which is practiced instead of mentalized, has become an increasingly vital aspect of my education. For today’s #Thealogy Thursday, I want to share some of the learning experiences which I am pursuing this year that are deepening my spiritual walk and relationship with Goddess. Part of my motivation for doing so is to offer specific resources and ideas for you to consider as well as to open a conversation about what my readers are doing in their lives to enrich their spiritual walks.

Inner Work: Mystery School

I am just starting my second “realm” with the Goddess Mystery School In Her Name. I completed the Realm of Self and am now delving into the Realm of Sacred Balance. It took me significantly longer to complete the first realm that I expected, but it was a good lesson in persistence and provided practice in being gentle with myself. If I continue through all the Realms, the last one will involve a decision regarding as to whether I wish to dedicate myself to a particular form of Goddess. I really appreciate that there is time and energy that has to be produced before making this choice as I do not think it is something that should be rushed.

Group Dynamics: Practical Priestessing Class

I had the pleasure of meeting Molly Remer at a spiritual retreat last year and am so glad I did! She shared with me about a revised Practical Priestessing class she is offering that is a 6-month intensive on priestessing. I am still wrapping my head around the term priestess and debating internally whether it is something I will become comfortable “trying on” but I cannot wait to dig into the ceremony and celebration of spiritual leadership from a Goddess-honoring perspective.

Goddess and Spirituality Books

I have amassed an unsightly number of books related to Goddess Spirituality that I have not yet opened or read. This is unusual for me and I’m not quite sure why my appetite is larger than my “stomach” for reading. If I’m being honest, some of the artwork on the covers has drawn me in just as much as the concept the books convey! The most recent book I’ve read is:

Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home (by Toko-pa Turner) This book is everything. As someone who is estranged from my family, I get very nervous to read books on these topics because I expect judgment and to be told to “forgive.” What I read the brief author biography on the cover and saw that she lives on an small island, I figured it was worth sitting with this book. Her writing is incredibly lyrical; I anticipate many lines from her book becoming mantras by which I live. She facilitates an online course in dreamwork which I may take at some point this year or next.

In addition to readings that I will complete for the classes I’m taking, additional books I’ve moved to the top of my reading list include:

Goddess as Nature: Permaculture Class

Permaculture is a new pursuit for me and one that I have not shared about previously because I am in the early part of the learning phase. In case you are unfamiliar with it, it is a system of design for people that works with nature instead of against it. It is focused on ecology and deep observation of natural patterns.

This is a class I am taking in person; it is not a full permaculture design course but is intended instead as an introduction to permaculture which meets over the course of several months. I love the “hands-on” aspects of this class. We trimmed a pear tree that was sporting some kind of fungus. I got way too excited cutting off all the damaged branches; it felt cleansing! I’m also working to find an area of my backyard where I can start a fruit tree guild.

Connecting with Nature: Forest Bathing

I will be taking part soon in a series of forest bathing sessions. I believe this practice originated in Japan and involves intense observation and mindfulness while walking slowly through the forest. One of the places I feel the presence of Goddess most acutely is in the woods, so I am anticipating this to be an excellent way to be both more fully embodied as well as attuned to nature. Many of the practices espoused by priestesses of Goddess Spirituality include developing a deeply-rooted relationship with nature, so I am particularly encouraged that each session of forest bathing will take place in the same location.

Sacred Women’s Work: Women’s Circle

I recently joined an in-person Wild Woman women’s circle that practices on the new moon. The particular circle I’ve found blends group and individual experiences quite seamlessly. I have taken part in and then moved on from a few women’s circles in the past; there is something incredible about the gathering together of women in an authentic and vulnerable manner that I see as a lived expression of Goddess.

Having listed and described my current pursuits, I feel a bit overwhelmed! These are all experiences I’ve welcomed into my life in addition to the mundanity and stress of everyday life. I struggle deeply with a feeling of alienation, worrying that I am too much in my head and not out living life fully. I also chronically perceive myself as not belonging and not having the same richness of relationships that others experience. What feels amazing in looking over my catalogue of interests is seeing that what I’ve taken on this year is well-balanced in terms of some pursuits being very focused on community and some being more centered in inner work and individual in nature.

I hope to hear from you with anything you are curious about related to my involvements, and especially to learn about the interests in which you are engaging. What goals have you set for yourself related to your spiritual practice, or what needs are speaking to you? What are you pursuing in terms of classes, books and interpersonal experiences to deepen your walk?

Magic & Phrase

Acceptance

She attends all that life offers with open hands, releasing the spent wings into the breeze and sheltering the fragile perches in her palms.

Nature gladly alights upon her and receives from her, knowing both the soft surrender and sturdy welcome will endure.

Undulations of blossoming and withering that would unsteady the outstretched grasp of another are met in her embrace as a heartbeat.

Her fingers dance the rhythm as her arms rise in exaltation of a moment–this moment–felt, breathed and held in full sunlight, just as it is.

Naturally Mindful

Miracle Moments

Cross-posted at my SageWoman blog.

During some intentional inner work time, I pulled the Mother Mary card from the Guidance Guidance Oracle card deck. I felt an aversion to the phrase it contained—“expect a miracle.” My childhood religious training has infused the word miracle with implications of salvation from sin and requirements of faith. My scientific training has added additional complications by creating great skepticism in me as to whether anything can exist that could not ultimately be dissected and analyzed. However, as I reflect upon for today’s #NaturallyMindful Monday, in sitting with that word for a while in meditation and carrying it in the back of my mind throughout the day, I’ve found myself growing in my ability to relate to it from a place of awareness and gratitude.

Unexpected good fortune is one hook with which I’ve caught ahold of the experience of miracle. I had a situation a few weeks ago in which I had a highly charged moment that I thought would be repeated ad nauseum for the next several months. Without any effort on my part, the situation instead resolved itself with a day. I can get caught up easily in the useful fantasy that the only way positive events will occur in my life is if I work very hard to make them happen. The experiences of delight and relief that pepper my pathways when I finally stop striving to create them are blessings indeed.

Instances of serendipity also help me grab onto the concept of a miracle. I’ve been stressing about my dog who is a few years old and may need surgery at some point for his knee condition. Even though he should have a good long time with me yet, I get myself worked up about what it will be like when he ages and passes on. As I pondered this, a random stranger came up to me at a pet store and told me she had a friend whose two Yorkies lived into their mid-20’s! Twenty or more years as a possible outcome was not something I had even considered (and know is highly unusual). But for a second, it felt like Goddess herself was appearing and letting me know that trusting in the moment and allowing life to unfold without a firm sense of where or how each fork in the road will occur is not only a happier choice but also possibly a more realistic one. I wonder how many “angels” I brush past in my rush to control rather than to be present with my fate.

Nature presents herself as a living miracle to me. It has been a “real” winter where I live with lots of snow. The temperature has been creeping upward for a few days recently, even thought the nights are still cold. It only took hours of warmth for me to notice some kind of greenery (probably weeds!) starting to poke through the mulch, as well as some insects to begin to buzz around. What seemed just days ago to be lifeless, decayed and rotted is already unfurling and crawling with movement and hope, as if Goddess in her Nature form is being transfigured from death to life.

What do you think of the word “miracle?” To what extent or in what ways are you able to appreciate it, and where might you feel challenged by it? What blessing and “angels” have appeared in your life?