Gods in Disguise

Posted on: April 5th, 2012 by Thorn 7 Comments

.

“Welcome, stranger.You shall be entertained as a guest among us. Afterward,
when you have tasted dinner, you shall tell us what your need is.” – Telemechos to disguised Athena (the Odyssey)

We cannot know what someone else’s story is just by looking at them.

While working at the soup kitchen this week, I was washing dishes in a sink near the large stove, and talking with some guests in the line. At one point, I happened to glance across the dining hall and saw a face I recognized, but not from the house of hospitality itself. I recognized this person from night clubs. He is often around, handing out postcards for other events, hanging out, talking. A very friendly man. Here he was, eating a bowl of soup and some salad, cup of water in front of him. Giving him his privacy, I figured if he happened to see and recognize me and wanted to talk, he would come over. He did not.

This small event brought several things home to me, one of which was the reminder that we just don’t know the circumstances in which most people around us live. Unless they tell us – and sometimes even then – we are most often making our assessments from superficial cues, including context. One other thing this brought home to me is how grateful I feel for my life. I often give thanks at the kitchen, mostly for the joy of being there, working in community. Some days, when a person comes in who is obviously really hurting – whether from too many drugs and drink, or some internal demons, or simply pain, harshness, and the effort to get by – I give thanks for my life, and the blessings of my life.

The Gods have been good to me. Yes, I’ve struggled. Yes, I’ve been poor. Yes, I’ve felt lonely, angry, ashamed, bereft. Yes, I was raised with adversity. Yes, I’ve had chronic pain and illness. And… Various component pieces – including education, intelligence, some talent, the privilege of skin tone, some ambition, some effort, some hard choices, some help, and some luck – all came together to give me a life that makes me feel wealthy. I never want to forget that grace is part of the package.

Any of us could be eating at our local house of hospitality. Any of us could be looking for shelter. Any of us could be masking pain as we walk into work each day. Any of us could – like Athena in the Odyssey – be a Goddess in disguise, masking our glorious nature from the world.

May we bring kindness to ourselves, and be kind to those we meet. May we offer what we can, but no more than we can. May we remember that appearances may disguise many things: an aching heart, a hungry belly, or some bright talent, as yet unrecognized.

We have all been in pain. We have all been in disguise. We all can shine.

Tags: , ,
Posted in politics, theology | 7 Comments »

On the Passing of the Poet

Posted on: March 29th, 2012 by Thorn 4 Comments

.

“When does a life bend towards freedom? grasp its direction? 

How do you know you’re not circling in pale dreams, nostalgia, 

stagnation

but entering that deep current   malachite   colorado

  requiring all your strength wherever found

your patience and your labor

desire pitted against desire’s inversion

all your mind’s fortitude?”

- Adrienne Rich

(from the poem Movement in the collection Dark Fields of the Republic)

The poet does well to ask. Her words cut to the quick of our fear, exposing our hesitation at taking the very risk that might save our lives.

I felt this so strongly when I was young, having been opened by poetry, captured by words that promised something more than Southern California 1980s suburbia. My scribblings had gotten me through three boring years of high school, and catapulted me up the coast to San Francisco, where poets still roamed the streets.

Sitting in a packed auditorium, all of 20 years old (or so), I listened to the poet speak. My life was set before me. I wanted to be a poet like that. Like Adrienne Rich. Words on fire, or rising from deep water. Wiser than I. Insightful. Fragile. Strong. Feeling that I wanted her to see me, what I really wanted – and what every poet knows – is to truly see myself.

My words have taken a different form in intervening years. The path I have chosen has moved from the careful craft of poetry to the sweet rush of translating the soul so that I and those around me can better understand. The poet does that, too, but differently. We all find our way, and our successes.

What is your success? What is your road? What opens you, exposing your fear, your sorrow, and the spark of your ambition?

What helps you see yourself? How do you hold up a mirror to help the world?

Adrienne Rich affected my heart and soul, and left me with the wish to shape my life. For this, I am eternally grateful. Her words will continue to inspire. In thanking Adrienne Rich for her life, her legacy, her words, I thank everyone who ever helped someone to see, to listen, or to feel. We all touch one another, in large ways or in small. What choices shall we make about our actions and our speech? How will we craft our lives?

May we learn to walk in power and intention. May we listen well, and speak with the strength of poets.

 

——

Here is the New York Times obituary.

Edit:

Having not followed her career after my 20s, only referencing the books that sat upon my shelves, I had no idea that Rich was thanked by Raymond in “Transexual Empire” which is a book that has done great damage to feminist thought.

Yet I see also that she was thanked by Les Feinberg in “Transgender Warriors” and Minnie Bruce Pratt in “S/he” so it seems that Rich changed her thinking regarding trans women. 

Too little, too late? Perhaps it would have been good had she had spoken out more clearly and strongly (as Joanna Russ has done), but at least she seems to have learned and changed, for which I feel relieved.

We come up against this with artists so often. One example I often think of when grappling with such things is the terrible misogyny of Picasso. Yet Guernica is still an important statement… 

Her poetry lives on. May we learn from her gifts and her mistakes, and from our own.

Tags: ,
Posted in obituaries, Poetry | 4 Comments »

Equinoctial Attention

Posted on: March 19th, 2012 by Thorn 4 Comments

 

The sun will be directly above the earth’s equator tonight (or just into the morning, depending upon where you live). Light and dark, day and night, become equalizing forces. And yet, out in the cosmos, the other stars and planets simply go about their business. Do they even feel what happens around our little sun?

How about you? What is being shown to you, coming to attention?  What are you balancing, or what is helping balance you?

We often think of balance as stasis or equanimity, yet sometimes to return to a sense of balance, we must break stasis – expressing that which has been long unspoken, looking at what has been hidden, or awakening that which was asleep. This can give us a sense of being thrown off kilter, simply because we’ve grown used to things being a certain way. That brings up a host of emotions, large or small.

In my life, and the lives of my friends, the equinoxes often dance through like this: enabling new balance by bringing starkly to the forefront things that have been out of balance, large or small. This felt so true for awhile, that one friend used to host a springtime brunch to celebrate “The Day of Hideous Balance.”

I like the equinoxes, even when they cause discomfort, because they remind me to pay attention, to look or listen for that which has been sliding along and requires a course adjustment. This doesn’t always feel comfortable at first, but the energy that is freed up is worth it in the end. Also, it helps me to live more honestly with myself and others, which makes life more aligned and true.

All around us, people of many religions are celebrating, but that doesn’t mean that equinox has to feel good. Honoring the day and night of balance, however, can help serve to make us strong. The power of Sun at equatorial Earth reminds us to hold together those things that we have kept apart, allowing day and night, hope and fear, love and anger, growth and decay, to reflect each other in equal measure. In doing this, our own lives reflect back to us – in our friends, colleagues, animals, flowering plants, in wind, and sky. It doesn’t matter if it feels pretty – no need to dress it up in fancy bonnets – life in all its wholeness is beautiful. The sun and earth are in us. Doors open. Death and life walk hand in hand.

Blessed Equinox, wherever you are.

Tags: ,
Posted in Nature, spiritual practice | 4 Comments »

Intentional Magic

Posted on: March 15th, 2012 by Thorn 7 Comments

.

Every moment can become an act of magic.

What is your intention? What are you hoping to convey to the world? Do you have a mission or a mantra?

I wish to live and act in integrity, as centered and whole as possible. Though I have other missions on top of that, striving for integrity is at the core. This makes it easy to recognize when I’m off kilter, and not acting or speaking according to my intention.

If a group, temple, non-profit, or business doesn’t have an intention, it makes it far more difficult for the collective to do its best work in the world. But what about us? Whether our job description is parent, teacher, healer, administrative assistant, carpenter, gardener, or software designer, we are all well served by knowing our overall life’s intention.

When we have an overall intention, mission, or mantra, setting our daily intentions becomes easier, because we know what the baseline for that intention is. This is what makes magic effective. If I have an intention for this particular project I’m working on, but don’t have a personal base intention to start from, what in me is meeting the project? If my group has planned a ritual for the upcoming equinox, but I don’t know how my personal intention marries with the group, the ritual has less of a chance of feeling successful for everyone who participates.


Sometimes we need to reassess our intentions and make sure they still match the lives we want to live. As we move from winter into spring, it is a good time to look at where we are heading, what our desires are, and what things we wish to grow. A strong core intention helps us steer in the most open direction, or plant the proper seeds. We may not know exactly where we’ll end up, or what the fruits will be, but with a strong intention, we’ll have good guidance along the way.

Tags: ,
Posted in spiritual practice | 7 Comments »

We Can Become Whole

Posted on: March 9th, 2012 by Thorn 2 Comments

.

“Holy forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith! Holy! Ours! bodies! suffering! magnanimity!

Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent kindness of the soul!”

- Allen Ginsberg, from “Footnote to Howl”

 

How awake are you today? How awake are you to this moment? How awake are you to forgiveness, to suffering, to magnanimity? How awake are you to the kindness of the soul?

Active relationship. Deep presence. When we are dropped into our own centers, feet open to the sweet steadiness of earth, and crown open to the wideness of the sky, we can expand into the energy around us and realize: Everything is alive. That aliveness includes the coffee cup and computer, the store manager, the co-worker, the garden and the bees.

The soul, anchored in the body, recognizes aliveness when we drop deeply enough to open.

Use your mind as a well honed tool, not an escape hatch. Drop into the fleshiness of life. Awaken. Connect. Live.

We can evolve as individuals and as communities. We can hold each other accountable and help each other toward greater strength. We can learn flexibility and the forgiveness of letting go our tight, tight grips. We can feel the rush of life head back our way, as we take in a great, shuddering breath of the air swirling around us.
solar flare
We can turn to face the sun, and lift our heads in gratitude. We can become whole.

Bright blessings to you in these times of potency and softness.

Bright blessings of just-full moon and solar flare.

Bright blessings of love.

Tags: ,
Posted in LVX, Nature, spiritual practice | 2 Comments »

Holding Beloved Community – part 4

Posted on: February 29th, 2012 by Thorn 3 Comments

I received the following poem two days ago from a man I’ve never met who reads my blog, and got permission to pass it along. It feels germane to our conversations, and as you can see, it was written not only in the midst of conditions of the US war in Afghanistan, but also speaks to events closer to home for the rest of us. I particularly like the final stanza:

“I am currently in Afghanistan, and was inspired be recent events both here and at home in the states to write the following poem. Please accept it as a gift in thanks… Peace and Blessings, Joe Haydu“ 

I know you

You were a baby, full of potential

You were a child, full of dreams.

You were loved, you were hated,

Your dreams faced the waves of fate

Your hopes faced the rocks of reality.

You lost those you cared for,

You loved and lost and loved again,

You have seen the best and worst of humanity.

I do not know how your life has been shaped

by the storms of time, but I know one thing,

you are me and I am you.

We are humans, and we are the same,

Beneath the skin, beyond the battle scars,

We are one, you are me and I am you.

We are not at war, we are not enemies,

You are not some horrible other,

You are me and I am you.

We are born, we live and we die

Our lives are like a flickering flame

You are me and I am you.

We believe God is real,

We believe God is an illusion,

We believe in Goddess and Gods and everything inbetween.

And yet,

       You are me and I am you.

Forget those who say that we must fear

Forget those who would rule us

You are me and I am you, and we are one.

 - Joe Haydu

 

Forget those who say we must fear… I hold out my hand to you, Joe, and to everyone who engages in conversation on matters both difficult and sublime. I hold out my hand to those with whom I stand on the streets, those with and for whom I scrub pots at the soup kitchen, those who disagree with me, those with whom I laugh, and those who speak kind words. I hold out my hand to Z Budapest, to the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, to Jamie, and to Glenn Turner (who gives out vinegar for kerchiefs at Occupy while standing by my side). I hold out my hand to my trans brothers and sisters, and to every man and woman who works to understand their lives and this world we live in. I hold out my hand to politicians, to soldiers, to civilians, to activists, to peacemakers.  I hold out my hand to the divine flow that works its way inside each of us. I hold out my hand to Beloved Community. I hold out my hands to love.

I bow to you all.

(Stay safe, Joe.)

Tags: , , , , ,
Posted in Poetry, politics, spiritual practice | 3 Comments »

In Praise of Ida B. Wells

Posted on: February 28th, 2012 by Thorn 2 Comments

I wrote this piece in 2010 and wanted to reprise it this year:

“Brave men do not gather by thousands to torture and murder a single individual, so gagged and bound he cannot make even feeble resistance or defense.”
- Ida B. Wells

As Black History Month draws to a close, I would like to write of one of my heroes, Ida B. Wells. A fierce advocate for racial and women’s equality and justice, she did what few were willing to. In 1884, she refused to sit in the “Jim Crow” car of a train and was dragged from it by force, 71 years before Rosa Parks’ famous act.

“I refused, saying that the forward car [closest to the locomotive] was a smoker, and as I was in the ladies’ car, I proposed to stay. . . [The conductor] tried to drag me out of the seat, but the moment he caught hold of my arm I fastened my teeth in the back of his hand. I had braced my feet against the seat in front and was holding to the back, and as he had already been badly bitten he didn’t try it again by himself. He went forward and got the baggage man and another man to help him and of course they succeeded in dragging me out.”

She sued. A black woman in Memphis in 1884, sued a white company and won in the lower courts. She lost her case when it was appealed to the Tennessee Supreme Court, but the publicity gave her a platform from which to do future work.

We owe her a great many debts, but the most important one to me is that she worked tirelessly as a journalist, author, and public speaker both throughout the US and in Europe to bring attention to the hideous crimes of lynching in the US. Today I cannot read the quote that starts this post without thinking of the men still languishing in Guantanamo Bay. Her words – firmly rooted in her times – have a long reach. She speaks to me and for me, when I think of the thousands tortured, raped, and killed in the name of national defense, in the name of upholding our way of life, in the name of protecting our borders. Lynch mobs also try to uphold a way of life and protect borders. But the truth is, the borders are within us.

The legacy of Ida B. Wells calls to me to ever examine the walls I want to build, the ways in which I want to see some person, nationality, religion, gender or species as “other” than myself. As a Pagan and magic worker, I know, deeply in my soul, that nothing is “other,” that this separation is a lie that upholds violence and brutality to the earth, to animals, to humans and in the end, to ourselves.

Today, I feel so grateful for her example, for all her years of work for women’s suffrage, for racial equality, and for raising her voice for freedom.

Ida B. Wells became the first African American woman to run for public office in 1930, one year before she died. A fighter to the end. May we take her example to heart and rise to the occasion.

For Ida B. Wells, we give thanks.


Tags:
Posted in Leadership, politics | 2 Comments »