Embodied Heart, Magic & Phrase

Gentleness (A Survivor’s Screed)

Little girl, perfumed with an air of gentleness.

Fragile delicacy.

When grown into woman, pursue that most holy—birth.

In mothering, rend your body strong.

Still, your eyes should downcast and your lips purse in smile.

Defer, defend, deny when your place is called.

Cast off this gentleness. No, further on, pulverize it.

It is falsity and lies. It is witness-silence-allowing-complicit.

Glazed eyes and closed mouth and heart stone to keep crumbs.

Shatter this porcelain veil and let the fury demon, pet of their violence, loose.

Can tenderness survive? Has it any place?

It must endure, but not in meekness, shy.

Share of it in humility with those who welcome it.

Flow gentleness from heart to heart as we meet our woundings.

Source regenerating without scarcity.

And what of the rage? What of the rawness of power dipped in virility?

See them for the scared little boys they are. Thrust their misdeeds into the light.

Resonate the assertion for justice till voice, our own and collective, gives out.

They will not go willingly, but She has more time than they.

The mold into which we are shoved at birth—be boy be girl control submit—will melt.

We defects hold our fierceness and our calmness well.

When power ceases to fuel them, the worm of their soul will search out a kind and maternal face.

Blazing hearts will chorus instead.

Go gently, then.

© 2018 All rights reserved, Suzanne Tidewater, Goddessing From the Heart

Affirming Mind-Body-Spirit Writer Project, Sacred Spiritual Growth

Spiritual Disillusionment

For a time, I naively though I’d settled the question of finding my spiritual home in Goddess Spirituality. However, as I’ve really started setting the place up, opening locked doors and peering behind cabinets, I’ve stumbled upon a messy and foul-smelling cellar which I will start to examine for today’s #SacredSpiritualGrowth Saturday. The incense and sage of newness and excitement is now permeated with the stench of unprocessed bias in my house. And the longer I sit in disappointment, the more I see the tunnels of racism, classism and other worms of decay in myself.

I view what I’m undergoing as a developmental progression. I had a “honeymoon” period of learning new concepts and meeting new people, during which everything seemed polished and crisp. Over time, as with any human endeavor, the cracks and dampness started to show. In my particular case, the largest fissure, running straight through the center, is the belief that people should not be allowed to self-identify as womxn and should be excluded if they do not fit certain characteristics. There are also issues such as a lack of appreciation for intersectionality, and, in some corners, a heavy emphasis on either following the Goddesses of Northern Europe or on mixing and matching elements of various cultures without deep attention to their contextual meaning. In the wider Mind-Body-Spirit world, a large portion of the classes, courses and resources, aimed mostly at womxn, are allocated only to those with hundreds or thousands of dollars of disposable income. All is not “love and light” indeed.

My personal reflections on my experience thus far include:

Consider Renovation Rather Than Relocation

As I described above, finding the cellar crammed with ugliness caused me to want to escape. I care too much and feel too connected to Goddess to do that, though. I know this is my spiritual home. I’ve determined it’s time to contribute, on an individual and collective level, to sorting the mess and remaking the areas that aren’t life-giving.

If you’ve read my blog for any time, you’ve known me to be very concrete in my way of being. So, I am simultaneously digging more into minimalism and slow living in order to make my physical existence a reflection of my inner world (or is it the other way around)? Goddess Spirituality can be made more inclusive, affirming and those of us who practice it can go a lot further in our stance of solidarity; the same is true of the greater feminist and mind-body-spirit worlds. I am but one of many who are doing the work.

Go Deeper

I have been aware for some time of my specific spiritual calling, which is to help myself and others fully embrace all aspects of ourselves in a way that moves beyond shaming and blaming. One of the most helpful framings of bigotry in all its faces that I’ve encountered is to see it as Shadow. I absolutely experience this in myself; I’ve given surface recognition to my areas of bias but encounter a wall of shame when I try to go further. There is an internal voice inviting me toward this impasse, to sit with it and, together, from what is hidden and what I know, to dismantle it brick by brick. I’ve written previously of my inability to see my own hidden potential and mystery; I think it is likely across the way from these unexplored badlands. The light-bulb moment of recognition that my calling aligns directly with my disillusionment roots me in my purpose.

Take It In

As a trauma survivor, my bias is toward perceiving the world as a threat and to believing the only solution to be a dead sprint. In this shadow work in which I’m now engaging, though, I am learning very quickly that healing and change must be from my innermost cells first. I need to read and listen, to seek mentors and teachers, and to ponder and reflect much more than I cajole and demand change from others. Every time I believe I’ve slowed my walk sufficiently, I look around me and see how much ground I’ve covered without integration. Breathing in stillness and awareness is the concept on which I’m meditating.

Expect No Point of Arrival

I can never assume that I’ve dug in sufficiently to my areas of privilege or checked off enough boxes on my “standing in solidarity” card. Rather, as society’s norms change, I will do well to keep advancing along with them. I’ve been especially irate in witnessing, in an online forum, woman after woman proclaiming that her advanced age meant everyone else had to shut up and listen to her bigoted viewpoint in relation to transwomen. I can absolutely discount my elders far too easily and often and I can refuse to acquiesce to anyone, no matter their age, who refuses to see and respond to the harm they are causing. My anger belies my fear of calcifying into rigidity and inflexibility as I grow older.

In the service of self-examination and adjustment, I do think it is perfectly appropriate to pause and disengage from time to time for reflection. I may need to reassess the connection between my spirituality and my inclusivity. I may find that my own areas of struggle leave me drained to the point where I need to recharge before further engagement. My shadow-selves might need to process their shame and transform it into rededicated action.

If I am honest with myself, I will likely find that my motives need refinement. I need to assess whether my actions are performative, giving lip service to the “right things” for attention or recognition. In recognizing my own biases, I must be wary of then using this awareness to feed my demons of self-loathing and self-hatred. I may find that I long times to have my feeble attempts “count” and to then retreat into silent complicity. When I really dig into it, it is the personal stories of the effects of discrimination that inspire and compel me to go deeper; if my desire as a trauma survivor is to have my experience witnessed, in having been invited to see the inner world of another, I will not turn away. This motivation will hopefully, in time, become more fully grounded in an unshakeable and uncompromising dedication to have all people equally valued as human and worthy.

Anticipate Discomfort

I think it is wise to ask myself the question, “What do I want to get out of my spiritual practice?” If I’m honest, a lot of what I want is for it to help me feel less anxious and depressed. There is nothing wrong with this, but, for me, part of the process of spiritual maturation has been to remember, as I mentioned above, that on which my calling centers. In order for wholeness to be realized, I will go through some unpleasantness. It is necessary to reach the ends of myself and my typical responses, which, in the case of much of the oppression in the world, has been to be a silent but concerned bystander.

I’m trekking a few feet now into the tall grass, without a path, where there might be ticks and snakes and other trolls of threat. I’m tired of toeing the line and expecting someone else to clear the path for me. It takes courage to question my spiritual mentors and holy books; it takes even more courage to stay at it and stay with it after I realize there isn’t a meadow of wildflowers just past the brush. Although I may find myself on rough and uneven footing, I can know that I will emerge matured in my faith. More importantly, in joining with others in rooting out the invasive weeds of bigotry and hatred, the growth of our shared humanity can flourish. Mature spirituality does not shy away from injustice and suffering, instead, it welcomes the inner work and outer action needed to ensure the dignity of every person.

In what ways have you encountered spiritual disillusionment? What strategies and suggestions do you have for responding to it? Of what form are the individual and collective shadows you are meeting made?

Embodied Heart, Goddess Thealogy

Alternatives to Hatred and Hopelessness in the Face of Immortality

In the midst of the migrant crisis on the U.S. Southern Border, I found myself baffled by people’s responses. People whom I thought had at least a basic moral core responded with flippant rationalization and indifference to the suffering of children. I floundered around, unsure of how to process the experience. Finally, as I was listening to one of my favorite radio personalities, Bill Press, I heard him state “This isn’t a political issue; it’s a moral issue.” It was as if someone had flipped the proverbial light switch; I saw in stark and exposed grain what before had been only edges and the feel of a bannister.

I’d figured I left behind concerns about morality with the dissolution of my fundamentalist upbringing. I realized that I am still very much concerned with it, but that the calculus has been rewritten. My version of morality is encircled by the degree to which any particular behavior causes the suffering of a human being, and, to a lesser extent, any part of Nature. What compunction do we have to compel people to care about others if there is no threat of hell or reward of heaven at the end? This article hit home for me my feeling of helplessness in the face of an unwillingness to consider the needs of others who are different, and it was written a full year before the latest horrors. Rather than turning away from my feelings, I sank into them to contemplate, for today’s #Thealogy and #EmbodiedHeart post, what morality means from the perspective of my pantheistic Earth-based Goddess Spirituality belief system.

Owning Our Own Moral Failings Before They Own Us

I cannot deny the wisdom of taking the plank out of our own eye before we look for the speck of sawdust in another’s. I believe we need to clean our own house of hypocrisy and lack of heart towards those with whom we struggle to empathize. I do not think this means we need to devote all of our energy to reaching the very people we struggle the most to humanize. Rather, we can at least refuse to dehumanize anyone and can refrain from stereotyping others. I’ve been surprised at my own willingness to write off entire states, for instance, as places I view as “less than.” Unrelenting passion for each person’s worth as a human being builds the strongest bridges. When we realize we’ve fallen short of this idea, self-compassion can keep us from shame and can allow us to make fertile compost of the scraps of our failure.

Conscious Compassion

I’ve pondered this topic previously in response to sexual abusers. I do not think we owe everyone the same offering of compassion, especially if we were specifically victimized by them. We can spend our time trying to force drops of love out of stone, or we can unload the buckets of it that overflow from places where we’ve been wounded. In other words, most of us have people in the world with whom we readily empathize and for whom we care deeply; I do not think channeling our compassion towards these individuals is cowardice. Trauma survivors, in particular, risk re-traumatization if we continually frustrate ourselves in attempts to win over those who are cutouts of the ones who abused us or the ones who allowed us, through their indifference, to be abused.

At the same time, if it isn’t our own life’s purpose, we can welcome and support those who are able and willing to walk the long road towards those we see as “enemy,” flowers of hope in hand. Some are here to seek out the most vile beings in order to seed and water the tiny, crusted nugget of humanity in them, and I wish them well in their work. This story, for instance, of the blues musician Daryl Davis who convinced dozens of Klan members to leave and give him their robes speaks to this type of mission and inspires me.

Even the Monsters Are Human Beings

People can be evil, but the people who frighten me the most are those who explain away the evil ones. Knowing that a person finds it acceptable to worry solely about “me and mine” and cares not for anyone who, by sexual orientation, gender identity, ableness, race, religion, national origin or age is outside of their circle terrifies me. There is no level of atrocity that is “too much” if we write off entire groups of people. I do not think we need to force ourselves to beg and plead for these people to see the light, but we cannot discount them as being worth less or worthless. My heart tremors with the knowledge that each of us as humans can dim our light of morality if we do not give it careful and sustained energy.

We need people to rise above blind outrage and hatred; some of us to pour ourselves into caring for the victims, and some of us, with tears streaming down our faces, to compel the hard-hearted to soften to the suffering of the least of us. Anger is a wholly appropriate response to victimization; even in our anger, I believe the tender spots in our heart, raw and bleeding, will not be healed if we slip into a caustic hatred that degrades and dehumanizes our oppressors. Instead, anger must galvanize our feet and our hands and our voices to protest, to hug, to write, to do whatever it takes to scream our demand that no one is outside of the family of humanity; we harm ourselves when we kill, maim and imprison each other.

Moral Character Is A Work in Progress

All that we can ask of ourselves, I believe, in terms of our own morality is to be willing to examine and re-examine ourselves, bathing our wounds in the warm light of compassion and prying from our frightened hands any sticks of bloodlust with which we wish to bash the oppressive forces that seek our submission. No one arrives at a place of enlightenment from which all decisions and all impulses are purified. We are primates who, through whatever evolutionary quirks, can see or hear the cries of other primates we’ve never met and, on a soul-level, wish to tear apart any barriers, wire by wire, in order to free them. Let us, in our desire to rid the world of pain, be ever vigilant and careful not to fall for the cheapest form of self-esteem—the Light found me and I’m better than I was yesterday, so I must be better than you. Goddess as Earth surrounds each of us; we are all part of Her world and deserve to be treated as such.

How do you sit with instances of immorality when you see others suffering? How do you respond to those who are indifferent or who are committing evil acts, and to what extent do your actions retain the acknowledgement of their humanity? How do you direct your compassion?