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