Queen of Swords

. . . can be a harrowing thing.

I have been led to connect with a very special man who is at a point of intense transformation in his life, one involving spirituality, BDSM, and his deepest authenticity. I have suddenly found myself combining the role of erotic priestess and spiritual director, and it is both dizzying in its intensity and incredibly grounding in the sense of feeling like I have been led to embrace an aspect of my Work which I have intuited since adolescence but never thought to actually fulfill.

What I am doing looks very little like any description of "sacred prostitute" I have ever seen, but that makes it no less authentic, only that much more unique. There are blessings I am uniquely qualified to mediate -- and there are others I am not. All I know is that last week, as my time with him wound to a close, I felt that I had achieved something very important for myself, that I could in some sense die now, having fulfilled an important part of my mission here. Of course, it is better to live and keep doing my Work. . . but there was still a sense of "It is accomplished."

The "harrowing" aspect comes from my awareness of the profound changes in his life that I did not cause -- they were underway before we connected -- but for which I have become a potent catalyst. I am aware of how very careful I need to be in what I say, for he has invested me with significant authority, and will be vulnerable to mistakes I make. I must be vigilant and attentive in my own devotions and practices to make sure I remain an open channel to the Divine, and not get caught up in my own ego, whether that manifests in reckless pride or fear.

This is where my training as a spiritual director is finally coming into focus, for although there was a limit to what I could learn at a Christian seminary, the principles of direction transcend path. I am even more grateful for having had that experience.

This is also the point where I have started to understand how a submissive woman can also be a priestess. I need to be careful about how much I put into print about someone else's journey, so I can't go into detail, but suffice to say that a puzzle I struggled with years ago has been resolved in a positive way. And I know that without my experience with LM and Michael I would not have been brought to the point where I would have the wisdom to be capable of negotiating this particular ambiguity.

LM and Michael initiated me into my queenship and into sacred sexuality. This man, unknowing, has been the vessel by which I have been initiated into being a hierodule, another aspect of my life which I had yearned for but believed to be impossible. And once again, it is an Emperor who is responsible for that initiation.

The last few weeks have been very eventful.

First, a several-day visit with my teacher involved work to remove blockages and activate energy centers. As usual, it didn't feel like much was happening at the time of the work, but the subsequent days and weeks were. . . eventful.

Michael being home on a leave of absence from his deployment gave me the opportunity to spend some solid time with him, both alone and with others, and gave me the opportunity to do what feels like close to the last bits of processing I've needed to do around fully releasing my romantic attachment to him.

As part of that process, I realized that it was not appropriate for him to accompany me to get my piercing, as we had originally planned. It was not coincidental that he came to the same conclusion (albeit for different reasons) at the same time.

I've been attending the Solider's Heart book group, which has been going very well. It's good to finally be doing something actively constructive around my desire to help veterans.

During the time Michael was in town, I went to a bondage workshop with a friend. It was fun, low-key, and gave me the opportunity to remember that the sex positive community center is a friendly place to be. If I'd had my toybag with me, my friend and I might have remained for the play party that followed, but that didn't happen. I resolved to go to another party asap.

Last Wednesday I got my clitoral hood pierced as an act of devotion to Ereshkigal and LM, with multiple layers of meaning. I still need to write about that here.

Two days after that, I went by myself to a bondage/bdsm party at the center and ended up doing a scene with someone new for the first time since LM's death. (I'd done a few scenes with Michael before our final break-up.) The experience was affirming and cathartic, and I need to write about it more here.

So a lot has been happening in my relationship/erotic-spiritual dimension, and that's good, and I'm certain that it has a lot to do with the work my teacher and I did. At the same time, my practical daily life has been stalled out. I haven't been doing business development for my spiritual direction practice. I haven't been doing more than the minimum on my daily practices. I haven't been meditating. I haven't been exercising since it started raining. Lee Harrington's "Sacred Kink" class has been in progress for two weeks, and I haven't even visited the site.

Having my kid at home for summer vacation doesn't help, but I can't let that become an obstacle.

This morning as I'm typing I'm realizing how stale and close my living space feels right now. We keep the balcony door open all day, so it's not that there hasn't been fresh air, but there hasn't been a lot of other movement in the house. I/we need to do some tidying up, moving around, getting the space and ourselves invigorated again. It feels like it would be all too easy to slip into a semi-comatose state and just dream away the days.

A couple of months ago I created a morning ritual that involved writing on paper, getting a good breakfast, spiritual practice, exercise. . . I need to pull that document out again. When I was doing it, it gave me a gentle but thorough solid start to my day, and set me up to be happily productive.

This is the downside to not having a day job: the lack of externally imposed discipline -- and as I typed that, I could see Ereshkigal's edged, knowing smile. You think this time of unemployment is only about creating new ways to generate income? She asks.

Always more lessons.
Always more growth to achieve.

That's a good thing.

A few days ago I started reading a book called What Was Asked Of Us: An Oral History of the Iraq War by the Soldiers Who Fought It.

The use of the past tense in the title tweaks me a little, because obviously the war is still going on; there are still soldiers stationed in and fighting in Iraq. But the interviews were done with men and women who had returned after their deployments. (Some of them went back to Iraq for later tours.)

I picked up the book for two reasons. The first is that although my progress has been very, very slow, I still feel a strong call to work with veterans as a spiritual director. Lacking military experience myself, it seems both wise and respectful to learn more about what it's like to serve in a war zone. The second is that Michael has been in Iraq since last fall, and -- as is apparently the case with many -- his emails don't talk much about the specifics of what he's doing or what it's like to be there. I felt a need to understand more about what he's going through, but didn't want to push questions he's already deflected.

Reading the book has been an eye-opening and disturbing experience -- and stripped me of my ability to be in denial about the degree of danger Michael is in. (He has been downplaying the risk, not wanting those who love him to worry about him.) It's also made me wonder what kinds of wounds he's concealing behind the tired-but-usually-cheerful mood of his emails and chats. The concept of "soldiering on" is taking on an entirely new depth of meaning for me. There is so much -- on so many levels -- that has to be set aside, ignored, put on hold in order to keep going and do what they have to do.

I sent him an email yesterday in which I told him about the book, and that it made me want to know more about the degree to which the experiences of these soldiers in 2004-2005 are like what he experiences, but that I also didn't want to pry. He sent back the most frank account yet of what he's actually experiencing, including a particular incident that was so tragic I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Part of me wants to share it, because the details are so important to what I've been thinking about since then, but I don't have the right. Such stories belong to those who were there, not to those who hear them, not without permission to re-tell them, and not without a much deeper understanding of the circumstances than I have. Suffice to say that there is no one touched by the incident for whom I do not weep.

I'm learning a lot from this book -- but I'm acutely aware that my 'knowledge' barely skims the surface of the realities of the experience, and I'm humbled by that. But it also intensifies my belief that I really do need to do whatever is necessary to be able to provide meaningful service to veterans whose spiritual paths are resonant with my own: get a mentor, get training, find a way to plug in. . .

Michael sent me the contact information for a group called Soldiers Heart, which is "a veterans’ return and healing project addressing the emotional and spiritual needs of veterans, their families and communities." I'm upset that there was a three-day retreat/training session in my area at the first of this month that I missed. But there's also a local coordinator I've reached out to.

Spiritual direction is not counseling and it's not therapy. A lot of it is simply listening. A lot of it is simply showing up and being present and bearing witness and holding the space. I don't have to be an expert in PTSD diagnosis and treatment, for example -- but I would be remiss if I didn't get a better understanding of it than I have now.

It would be easy to be intimidated by the task, but what I feel more than anything is the immensity of the need for services like mine. Not for "me" as some kind of savior, but for anyone who is willing to be there, to listen, to walk beside -- not provide answers, but to share the process of grappling with the questions, of seeking light.

My next book is called War and the Soul, by Edward Tick, the founder of Soldiers Heart. What I've read of his articles on the website resonates with me on a very deep level.


And something else just clicked at a very deep level. . . I have always conceptualized the role of the hierodule as having several aspects. One of these is the task of receiving warriors as they return from war to the community and helping them to heal and to re-integrate. As with several other aspects of the hierodule role, although it is usually characterized as sexual, it does not have to be. Over the past month I've put a lot of energy into working out how my self-understanding as a hierodule can exist at all given the changes in my sexuality. Doing spiritual direction with veterans is one way I can continue to walk that path without bringing my personal sexuality into the relationship.

My spiritual studies definitely progress in a spiral pattern, with one thing being emphasize for a while, reaching a plateau, and then working on something else for a while as the previous elements integrate. The difference between this time of my life and others is that the different pieces are all being absorbed as part of a coherent overall path.

After spending months focusing on sacred sexuality and bdsm for my Pantheacon class, and dealing with the hurt of being written off by Michael as "a worthwhile sacrifice" to his higher priorities, I've been working with ritual magic again. As I've written here before, I've always had an intense resistance to these practices -- but that resistance has slowly been eroding. I'm pretty sure it's not the recommended technique, but I've been simultaneously reading several different books on the subject of ritual magic and Qabalah, with each one giving me a different perspective on the basic principles.

Why does this work for me? Because I have a hard time learning when I'm presented with the detail work first. I need to understand the big picture and guiding principles first, and then I develop the patience with the incremental steps of building applied knowledge through focus and practice on the basics. It helps, of course, that I have a teacher who can answer my questions about what is essential and what is personal choice.

As I told my teacher recently: it's like filling in the pieces of a mosaic. In isolation the bits have little or no meaning, but with enough pieces filled in, I can start to understand the overall design. Focusing on only one book is like filling in just the green pieces, or just the upper left hand corner: it's all part of the design, but quickly loses any sense of meaningfulness for me.

I'm not the easiest person in the world to have as a student.

The books I'm reading right now are "Learning Ritual Magic," "The Magic Tree," "The Disciple's Guide to Ritual Magic" (thanks, lupabitch!), and "The Thursday Night Tarot." The last one is a lovely, conversational guide to the Major Arcana through the lense of Qabalah, and since I'm pretty strong in Tarot, it's kind of reverse engineering for me. And of course these are not the first books on the subject I've read. Like most of us, I have a whole library of magical books -- most of which were never much use to me, but I carry the information from them, and it too is part of the mosaic.

How is all this working for me? Two days ago I drew a diagram of my own circle, elements, guardians, and etc. -- and although I've stood in many circles and cast a few (but not many) of my own, this was the first time I felt like I was truly in touch with the why, what, and who of it. This was the first time I felt the act of casting would have meaning and not just be a rote because-I'm-supposed-to act.

That was a good feeling.

My weekday evenings are focused on study and time with my kid, so I haven't actually done the casting yet -- but I'm looking forward to doing it this weekend.

One of my tasks for the weekend is to do a descent ritual. I'd known I needed to do it, but until this morning I wasn't sure it would be for. I was doing Morning Pages (Julia Cameron's daily creativity exercise) and started writing about two things I knew I needed to let go of in the underworld: my current job and my relationship with Michael. I kept writing, and found myself expressing the need to strip away all the old expectations and identity limits left over from my youth and college years.

You would think that at age 43 I'd be over all that by now, but no: those expectations go very, very deep, and are tied in with my self-esteem and my beliefs about what consitutes security.

I hasten to add that these expectations are not overtly negative -- but if I continue to be ruled by them on a less-than-conscious level, I am going to be blocked from becoming my authentic self. I'm going to let the expectations of my loving, mundane, middle class parents and my highly selective, leaders-of-the-world undergraduate college dictate who I am.

"Who I am" doesn't even come close to fitting into their paradigms: walker between worlds, wise woman, underworld priestess, Pagan author, bdsm practitioner and instructor, tarot reader, wife to a disincarnate husband. Even "spiritual director" is outside their realm of understanding, since for me it involves working outside a recognized denomination, being a solo practitioner, not operating within the defined boundaries and under the auspices of an established organization which confers legitimacy and and security.

Those are the key words: legitimacy and security.

I've been struggling with legitimacy for several years now -- but it's still and issue. My current job issues have highlighted the security aspect.

Time to shift paradigms. Radically shift them.

And Ereshkigal is just the lady to help with that.

Things have been in a deep/quiet stage recently. The "Watcher on the Threshold" tests seem to be over, but that means I'm entering a new phase of my work that hasn't been completely defined. It didn't seem right to just go back to doing what I'd done before. . . but I also didn't get any handwritten scrolls telling me what I'm supposed to do next. So I've been trying to keep gently on my current path and see what comes up.

One change I did make was to start my evening devotions earlier, to give me more time without compromising my sleep. Last night was the first time to do this, and I was richly rewarded with a helpful inner journey followed by the best contact I've had with LM in weeks.

My path has never been straightforward, and it's becoming more and more clear to me that I need a certain amount of complexity to keep from getting bored. The challenge is to choose the right variables and pursue them in a persistent, meaningful fashion, not just chase rabbits and end up with nothing to show for it but grass stains.

The journey last night reinforced that I do need to keep pursuing some of the same things I've been, but go on to new lessons: the Otherworld/faery work, the sacred sexuality, deepening my contact with LM, the work with Ereshkigal that touches most of the rest but also will expand more into the Ordeal Path. I also need to continue the hermetic work I started, to help add discipline and structure to my work with energy and spirit.

My inner guide also pointed out to me that I need to do more of my own brand of journeying. I've been working with teachers more faithfully than at any other time in my life, but I need to stay in touch with my own gifts. I need to be doing at least a couple of journeys a week: at least one on a weeknight and a longer one on the weekend. That's where I will be able to go deep and make the contacts I need to help guide the other work.

On top of this, I'm doing personal reflection and writing and "workshops" with Michael to prepare for teaching my class at Pantheacon, and I need to put together a book proposal (on the mysteries of Inanna and Ereshkigal) for a meeting with a publisher while I'm there.