Tuesday, 22 September 2015

Male/Female Spirituality vs a universal Human Spirituality

Male/Female spirituality vs a Human spirituality

Recently, in conversations with a new friend, an old irritation has arisen. Not the irritation that relates to anger, but the irritation of a discomfort, that is telling you something doesn’t quite sit right, but that you can’t quite pinpoint in order to rectify. This time, however, something went ping! Light-bulb moment, cosmic giggle and all that jazz. And it has prompted me to write this.

First let me say, “Female Spirituality” (and by Female Spirituality, I mean the spirituality that can be experienced through inhabiting a female form, rather than Goddess reverence), as a concept, has been very important to me in my own development. My very first God experience/epiphany/spiritual experience/moment of awen came, in the middle of an insomniatic spree, in the midst of a depression, whilst musing on the bane of periods. I had a very profound moment of understanding the power I held in my body: to be a crucible for creation, to nourish, support, keep warm, cushioned and protected, to bring forth and to nurture, new life. And what a privilege, an honour, and a responsibility (I was depressed, so had to find some stick in there to beat myself with) it was to inhabit this body, this life. I don’t believe that this is a universal female experience – not all women can bear children – but to honour the possibilities of the body you were born in, can be part of it. To me, and for me, working with other humans that hold the possibility of having had similar experience to me has become valuable and important. And this is my basic starting point for any discussion about gender separate, men’s and women’s work.

[Let me say here, in talking about the binary division of male/female it is not my intention to exclude people who do not feel they fit that binary division. I am using it simply for ease of communication. This is, after all, a blog post and not a thesis. Let me also say I am writing from the point of view of a cis-gender, largely relationship heterosexual, as far as I know fertile woman in her mid thirties. Many of my examples used to illustrate points come from this perspective, because it is the one that I know.]

So, I think working in gender separate groups for the purposes of self examination and discovery – spiritual work – is a good thing. Over the last few years I have come up against a counter-argument. In my experience: mainly from men, and men who identify as feminist or feminist-allies – I don’t know if this is significant, or even universal, and it is my observation. The argument is this: aren’t we a fractured enough world already? By using the definitions of male/female to categorise, you are adding to the separation, not removing it. Traits traditionally assigned to “masculine” can be found in women, and traits traditionally assigned to “feminine” can be found in men, therefore we can all be masculine and feminine, therefore separating men and women’s work is redundant because we’re all doing “human” work.

I agree with everything in that argument, if you remove “separating men and women’s work is redundant because” from the last sentence. Yes, we are a fractured world. Yes, by using the definitions of male and female, I am defining part of our separation. Yes, “masculine” and “feminine” traits can be seen in all, in different measure. Yes, we are all doing “human” work. And yes, it would be wonderful to be in a world where everything was so equal, amongst all, that “human” work was the order of the day.

Here’s the discomfort:

Every path concerned with the raising of human consciousness I have come across has within it the concept of “be here, now” as a starting point. A few examples of recent exponents are Timothy Freke,  Eckhart Tolle, Marianne Williamson, and Deepak Chopra. Ram Dass wrote an entire book about it. The clue being in the title: Be Here Now. Meditation practices involve allowing all the monkey mind chatter to still, and to return to being in your body, where you are – the stillness of the moment, the point of stillness at the centre of the turning wheel. Druidry marks, with ceremony, the changing seasons, and starts it ceremonies with calling in the directions– orientating one in time and space: now, and here. Even Mr Hierarchy-of-Needs Maslow had something to say about it:
“The ability to be in the present moment is a major component of mental wellness.” (Abraham Maslow 1908-1970)

Part of being here, now, in place and time, is being orientated within oneself: Body Mind and Soul; Physically, Intellectually, Emotionally, and Spiritually.

Being present physically includes whether my body came along XX, XY, or some other combination. This will affect, and to a certain extent dictate, the balance of hormones that I receive throughout my life.  And hormones are pretty powerful things – as anyone who has gone through puberty will be able to confirm. They affect whether I bleed on a regular cycle, or not. They affect whether my experience of sex is, at a most basic level, yielding, or penetrating. They affect whether or not I am always aware of my physical safety, because of the way that they have affected my developing musculature. Have you ever felt the need to go to the loo in pairs? Why? Or why not? (And yes, sometimes it’s to talk about you men. Sometimes.)

 My intellectual and emotional worlds are affected by how I was socialised – which will have been affected by my presenting gender. Research, which I read during my nursing training, and now can’t find, had observed that boy babies tended to be carried facing outwards, whereas girl babies tended to be carried facing inwards. Couple this with Prof Jared Diamond’s assertion, based on 50 years work in New Guinea, that “Carrying your baby upright and facing forward may result in a more self-assured child” and we have one example of a potential difference between men and women’s basic starting tool kit, and thus their unfolding experience of life.

I have used this example many times, and I will use it once more. As a small child, I was shown by my Grandma, how to iron men’s shirts. My brother – he who might one day be wearing men’s shirts – was not. What was being engendered here? “It is your responsibility, as a girl, to look after everyone else around you. Your brother, as a boy, gets to play football.” This is what my brother was doing whilst I was being given a lesson in homemaking.  No matter how hard my ball-breaking feminist mother and my anarchist hippy feminist father tried to not treat my brother and I any differently based on our genders, it snuck in there anyway via other people, and via the gender issues that my parents had in shadow. Add playground politics to the mix, and gender is fairly firmly grounded as a distinction by the time we start to think about sex. Because people make distinctions: us vs not-us. Me vs not-me. Gender is a simple (haha) distinction and one of the first we experience. Hands up anyone who’s ever had the phrase “you can’t do/have that. You’re a [insert relevant term here]...” used against them.

And then spiritually. I assert that no man born has had an epiphany about the way their body can hold growing life inside, birth that life and then nourish said life from their boobs. And I assert that no woman born has had an epiphany about their seed springing forth from their body to fall on fertile pastures, or whatever the male equivalent is. (I, not being male, cannot truly know what its equivalent is, but I’m sure there must be one.)

All of this together, creates broad sets of experiences that may be shared by people of similar gender. Two widely known examples of these experience sets are the twitter hashtags #NotAllMen, and #YesAllWomen . #NotAllMen was started to highlight the use of this term (shortened from “but not all men are like that,”) by men, to avoid awkward topics such as sexual assault. #YesAllWomen was started in response, and highlights that fact that all women have a story, or five, of sexism, misogyny or assault against them, often from people they know.

Here, I often hear the interjection “but, no, really Not all men are like that. And, women do it too!” Yes we do, and it is as unacceptable from us as it is from you. And if you’re emphasising Not all men because you were an awkward teenager who didn’t fit the patriarchally prescribed boundaries for maleness, I refer you here: http://www.newstatesman.com/laurie-penny/on-nerd-entitlement-rebel-alliance-empire. Laurie Penny eloquently speaks to that. The patriarchy hurts us all. And, interestingly enough, I suspect if you were able to talk freely about it in a group of men committed to hearing with an open heart, I think you would find shared experience.

Which leads me onto the power of working in gender separate groups. Sitting in circle with people who have a similar starting position to you is powerful. Both women and men that I have spoken to, who sit in gender distinct circles, say that being with their same gender means that when tackling deep issues, they have to spend less time on being understood. Communication is easier. Less explaining needs to be done, because the others in their circle just get it – get the nuances of their communication style. Which allows them to go deeper, quicker.

If I am to become a whole and integral human being (and anywhere close to enlightenment), I must start where I am. With all that has brought me to where I am and all that has shaped me. I must own my experience, because I can’t change it. I can only change how I allow it to play out in my future. In working separately, as a woman amongst women, I can become clearer in what influence my experience has had/is having, and more fully own it. From learning how my menstrual cycle affects my moods and the way I am likely to interact at different times in the month (leave me alone for two days about a week before I’m due: I’ll either dissolve into a snotty weepy mess or rip you a new one), to uncovering my own gender prejudices within relationships. As it says in the Temple of Apollo at Delphi: “Know Thyself.”

By first acknowledging our different experiences as men and women, male and female, and then taking ownership of them: so as not to put them into shadow, we have a place from which we can build compassion. Compassion for ourselves, and for our fellow genderees. We can then meet our co-species differently gendered humans from compassion, and with the ability to hear and share openly our different experiences. From there we have a point of understanding. And in owning our strengths, and knowing our challenges, we are more able to come together to form strong working alliances, to consciously avoid causing unnecessary pain, and to help lift each other up and over the wounds of being human. From positions of ownership and strength we can come together in productive, creative, uplifting partnership.

Then: we can start to work on a universal human spirituality.

“I know there is strength, in the differences between us;                                                              And I know there is comfort, where we overlap ....”

                                                                                                Ani DiFranco

Thursday, 31 January 2013

Today is a year.


Today is a year.

A year since I went to a clinic.

And what have I learnt in that year?
What lessons do I take with me?

Sometimes the only choices are hard ones.
In the face of hard choices I learn who I am.

Human beings, all human beings, me included, make mistakes.
The world is easier when I forgive myself that.

Grief comes, whether I like it or not.
The world is easier when I allow myself that.

Sometimes my past can blind-side me.
The best thing I can do when this happens is take time to be with it, feel through it, learn from it and release it.

Sex is sacred.
It can be a powerful opening, yielding, coming together of two spirits in a tender act of vulnerability and strength.
It is a gift to be given wisely, as an ultimate honouring.
And sex with someone I love is the best of all.

Love is easy when I let myself.
Love is a gift, not a reward for good behaviour.

The magic of imagination is real.

Soul Mates is great, and Body-Mind-Heart-and-Soul Mates is better.
Body-Mind-Heart-and-Soul Mates do exist.
Living with the right person is easy.

If you don't worry about money, money is nothing to worry about.

Trust is not let down.
Trusting is easy when I let myself.
Sometimes God cuts it fine.

The world is easier with gratitude.
Gratitude takes constant active practise.

The blessings are there when I look through the right eyes.
Remembering to look through the right eyes takes practise.

I am okay.
I am enough.

Saturday, 7 July 2012

Chronicles. Part I don't know.



I am low. And I have been bypassing. Using distraction and "Positive Thinking" to avoid pain. Gripped by fear. Fear of feeling. Feeling the loss. The change. I have so much beauty in my life. So much happiness. So much to be grateful for. So much that I am grateful for. And because of that I have been denying the other feelings. Ignoring them, hoping that they would see the error of their ways and disappear. But they have not. And the longer I hold onto happiness as a shield, the weaker my grip becomes. And now they are right here, surrounding me. Threatening to pull me under if I don't correctly deal with them. I know I have to turn. I know I have to face them. I know that my Sadness Dragon is simply trying to remind me that we can be friends, in the only way he knows how. And yet fear grips me. I don't want to be focussing on what I've lost. I want to be focussing on what I have. And yet I know the only way to see clearly what I have, is to go into, and through, what I have lost.

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing......Only I will remain. 
(Dune.)


There’s a phoenix on the horizon,
And she’s heading my way.
But the mirror tells me nothing,
And everything is grey.
(Me)


See then I have a tiny conversation with Liam and the happiness bounces forward with a big shiny Helloooo! And the sadness stands in the corner kicking its heels, waiting … And I feel myself glancing back at it, and my heart sinks knowing I have to go and see it, and the joy from a moment earlier diminishes. And I feel ashamed. Ashamed that I can't hold onto a moment's joy without letting the sadness of yesterday get in the way. But and, it is also the sadness of today. Because it is here, today.

I am very aware that, had I taken a different fork, in ten days time, or thereabouts, I would be giving birth. Life would be utterly different. Unrecognisably different to how it is, here today. Somewhere, some theories postulate, I am living that life. I catch glimpses of it when I sleep, when I dream. I catch glimpses of a daughter at 2, 3, 7 years old. Running, laughing, tantruming. Sunshine and rain. Times of energy and times of exhaustion. She has plaits and she is a girl. She is a woman and I am older. I have lived that lifetime in an instant. And the old woman in me grieves for the loss of that lifetime. She is near death. And yet she is on the verge of life. On the 17th of July it will be time to let go. Time to leave that lifetime in that lifetime. Let memories lie where they fall.

And so I am sad. Crumpled in. Weary. Another wave to ride. To take me closer to the shore of this sea of grief. I promised I would never regret my decisions. And I do not still. I am stronger for the responsibility of my decisions. It does not make me a bad mother: being a good mother to myself.

So we are at the bottom of that particular well of sadness, and what can we see? We see that we can stay here, but that it won't change anything. We see that we wrote a promise on the wall the last time we were here, and that to honour that promise we need to be let this be, and move forward. We see honour in the way we have behaved, the way we have chosen. And shame, that most heaviest of rocks, falls away. A breath. The sunlight. A head above water.

Trust.
Everything is as it should be.

July 7th 2012. 3.29pm.

Sunday, 25 March 2012

Find the Fun!


Where's the fun!?
Find the Fun!

Someone once asked me that: where's the fun? Good question. Where is your fun?

Here's where my fun is:

Great music and dancing round my flat unashamedly.
Sitting on the beach in the sun.
Sitting anywhere in the sun.
Walking in torrential rain – with good waterproofs.
Coming in from walking in the rain and having hot chocolate by an open fire.
Hot chocolate – made my way.
A decent thunder storm.
Cooking for friends.
Cooking for myself.
Dancing!
Singing!
Drumming!
Drumming with others.
Singing with others.
A bonfire.
A good glass of red.
A long bath with smellies and candles.
A great night out with friends.
The celebratory cigarette when I've completed something.
The end result of a good clean and tidy.
Washing up.
The sea.
Walking aimlessly through woodland.
A shared smile with a passer-by.
A good cry.
Rollercoasters.
The whizzy ride where you're on the end of a long arm thingy that flings you round and round.
A well placed swear word.
Destroying something that needs destroying.
Planting things and seeing them grow.
Being there for friends.
Good sex. (Could be a whole topic in itself.)
Play fights. Not necessarily leading on from the previous listing. Possibly preceding …
Creating stuff – art, clothes, jewellery, a poem.
Friends.
Learning new things.
Swimming in the sea.
A good debate/discussion.
Getting dressed up for a night out.
Full moon!
Doing/trying something new.
Music!
Laughter!
Finding the perfect gift.
Giving the perfect gift.
Using my gifts for the benefit of others.
An impromptu gathering.
Meeting new friends.
Seeing old friends.
Sleeeeeeeping!
Feather duvets and feather pillows.
Fresh bedding.
Midnight snacks.
Fresh pain au chocolat.
The smell of freshly baked bread.
Connection – with myself, with others, with the great divine.
Fresh orange juice – not from concentrate …
CHEESE!
Cats.
Simon's Cat – YouTube it …
Spontaneous randomness.
Love love love love love.
Having a crush on someone.
Mischief!
Naughty giggles.
Paddling pools.
Flying kites.
Cheesy songs.
Daft films.
Being a free spirit!
Finding my path and watching it unfold!

Tell me: where's your fun?

Saturday, 24 March 2012

Trust, Love, Walk gently.


Hey hey hey here I am. It's 2.38am. It's actually 1.38am, but the clocks just stole an hour.

I went to a Red Tent today. A circle of women, gathering around new moon. To honour their journeys as women. A Women's Lodge as it were.
 
And I was not comfortable. They were all beautiful women. Welcoming and lovely. And yet I was not comfortable.
I knew one woman there. This was not it.
I was expecting another friend to be there, and she was not. This was not it. 
It was a new group. This was not it. 
It was a group. This might have something to do with it. 
I was not the youngest. This might have something to do with it. 
I am stuck in my head. This definitely has something to do with it. 
I was very irritable today. This definitely has something to do with it. 
The other women knew each other, were friends. This has something to do with it.
They all seemed so deep in their presence. This has something to do with it.
Compare = despair. I know I know.

So many things running round my head. So many archetypes. Words. Words. Words. Anima Animus. Sovereign Lover Magician Warrior. Soul. Heart. Mind. Body. God. Goddess. Universal Spirit. Nature. Mother Father. One. Connection. Grief. Ego Id Superego. Psyche. Laughter. Joy. Sorrow. Anger. Menstruation. Individuation. Voice. Where is that? Which voice do I use? Observations. Grinning out of discomfort, not out of happiness or mischief. Twisting in my seat. Fidgety. Unfocussed. Should be doing. Should have done. Supposed to. Ought to. Bills. Money. Moving home. Finding home. Wounded child. Ideal parent. Parenting myself. Twisted forehead frown. Too much too much too much. Hormones. Need. Receiving. Giving. Physical contact. Kindness. Shared food. Bitty bitty bitty. In-cohesive. Whoa man, heavy heavy. Impatient. Restless. Ungrounded. Floating balloon. When do I pop? Shatter in the atmosphere. Fall to earth again? What voice do I use? Masculine. Feminine. Argh. ARGH! AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

When does it stop? How do I change? I am more aware, but it seems to make no difference. Still the voices run. The tapes call my bluff. Who the fuck am I? I have no idea any more. I am Martha. Am I? Yes. That is my name. But who is Martha? I am woman. Does that matter? I am, I think? I experience, I think? But how do you know you weren't born 30 seconds ago complete with memories? Don't. Can't. How do you know you are not the only person in existence and everything else is a figment of your imagination. Don't. Can't. Although that would make me one twisted fuck. Am I simply running? Am I, like everyone else in my imagination, simply trying to find something to cling on to to give meaning to this experience? Yes. And I did find it. For a while. And life was beautiful. Joyful. Powerful. And now it is gone and I am left bereft for/of the experience. And I am panicking. Come back! Come back! I want my Damned Enlightenment BACK! I don't want to sink back into depression. That thought scares the shit out of me. And I feel like I'm skirting on the edge of it. And I'm terrified. I was doing so well. But the tapes keep playing. The old habits return with such force. And I'm not sure any more. I thought I had a handle on it. Learned behaviour from my father. This is how you deal with life: i.e. you don't. You run away and stay in bed and hope it all disappears to be replaced with a fairy tale by the time you wake up. Because this shit still hurts. Familial patterns. Blah. What kind of role model did you have? Blah. I can't change the past. Blah. And it's passed. So why does it haunt me?

Learning for the first time to be on my own. Actually on my own. No man in tow. Anywhere. No fuck buddy. Can't do that any more it seems. Predator. Prey. Which one was I? Does it even bloody matter? I've been a shit. I've been shit upon. I've run. And run and run and run. I am tired of running. I want to stop now. “How many times a day do you laugh? Many times a day. I try to laugh as often as possible.” I also cry many times a day, but I don't suppose you want to know that do you? Please let this be my period. Please please please let this all be pre-menstrual. Oh God let this be pre-menstrual. How the fuck do I navigate this life stuff? How? How does anyone? So many kindly souls. So many kind people. So many kind women. And yet it all feels like bull. At the moment. I'm trying to be kind to myself. But my hair … is doing what it wants. And I have no bath to sink into. And showers just don't cut it. So much negativity. Sinking in the negativity. Where's my float? Where's my boat? What can I hold onto?

Tarot. No, I-Ching. What do you say?
Fire Lake 49: Ko/Revolution – Devotion to truth enables a revolution.
Changing line 3
Thunder Lake 17: Sui/Following – Do not argue with what is; simply follow the progress of truth.

Hmmm. Bugger. That old nutshell.

What stands out in the readings for these?
Ko: “A set of conditions … is ready to pass away in favour of a more beneficial situation. What enables this transformation is your conscious and vigorous adherence to correct thought and behaviour.” “Whatever change you aspire to … must be preceded by a change in heart, an active deepening and strengthening of your resolve to meet every event with equanimity, detachment and innocent goodwill. When this spiritual poise is achieved within, magnificent things are possible without.” “Indisputably, to lead one's inner self to truth and peace is to lead the outer world to truth and peace.”
Changing line: “Do not be hasty, neither should you hesitate excessively. Act with perseverance and gentleness when it becomes clear that the time is right.”
Sui: “It is essential now that you quietly accept the way things are.” “To resist events is similar to resisting the turning of the Earth – you only exhaust yourself in vain. To resolve a difficult situation, follow the good within yourself.” “Proceed gently, with balance.”
{Brown Walker, B. (1997). The I Ching or Book Of Changes: A Guide To Life's Turning Points.London: Judy Piatkus (Publishers) Ltd.}

So. Keep going. Things are ready to change. Be true to myself. Accept the way things are. Accept the way I feel. Chill out. Don't push. Don't hide. Follow the good within myself. Proceed gently. Be gentle with myself.

Like I said. That old nutshell.

Trust.
Love.
Walk gently.

Beach tomorrow then. And Sunshine.

Tea now. And sleep.

Laters all xxx

Monday, 27 February 2012

The Abortion Chronicles: Part 8: It is done.

It is done. She is buried. In a big old tree. In a snow covered field. Surrounded by bunnies and moles. And I have cried. And the big old tree has held me. Suggested where I sit on his big old root structure in order to see the view I have buried her in.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"Tree," he replies.
"Thank you Tree."

I know I will return here many times throughout my life. Not only because it is her burial place, but because of the kindness and quiet contemplation space that Tree offers.

She will be warm now.

---

I return and smoke three cigarettes straight off.
I have laid her pebble in her garden of spring bulbs.
I have lit her candle in my bedroom window.
It is done.


---

I am going to see Granny this evening.
I went to see her before the termination and was struck by the fact that four generations of what turned out to be women were in the same room.
This time there will be only three.
I'm not sure how I feel about that.
It is simply truth.

I want another cigarette.
I am going to have to watch that this pull does not succeed past today.


Tree I have found out is an ash.
But I'm not sure I don't prefer Tree's answer when I asked him.
"What kind of tree are you Tree?"
"Big old tree," he replied.