Queen of Swords

One of the challenges I'm finding being a spiritual director outside of one of the major religious traditions is that pretty much all of the books that are considered "classic" and "foundational" were written by Christians. I have no issue with Christianity, and in fact my own theology remains deeply influenced by being raised Christian, but the fact is that I am not a Christian, and many of the assumptions made by these authors simply do not fit my paradigm.

However I've been feeling a need to engage in a more disciplined approach to professional improvement, and my new bus commute is providing two 45 minute chunks of time which need to be filled with meaningful activity -- so yesterday I started reading The Art of Spiritual Direction, by W. Paul Jones, with an attitude of "being in discussion" with it rather than simply accepting/rejecting it as a whole.

The "discussion" started almost immediately, when the author wrote "Of all the religions, Christianity is perhaps the most social." But by allowing myself to write "Disagree!" in the margin and then go on, I was able to get to material that I was able to find personally useful.

One of the useful bits was the author's list of "basic assumptions" about the nature of spiritual direction within a Christian context. I realized that writing my own list would be valuable to me and to my clients. The section I'm in now is about eight different forms of direction -- far more than I'd ever considered -- and that too is valuable. It's certainly going to be useful when talking with clients about what they are seeking, and offering different paradigms for our work together.

The biggest challenge is that the bus rattles a lot at freeway speeds, so journaling my responses is difficult -- but I can still engage in contemplation, and as far as I'm concerned it's hard to do too much of that, especially during a time when otherwise I might simply be "zoning out".

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.

After spending more than three years thinking about it, talking about it, planning it, and running away from it, I have finally launched the website for my business, Feral Holiness: Spiritual Direction Outside the Boundaries.

http://www.feralholiness.com/


Please drop by and take a look around, and then let me know what you think. I welcome any and all feedback: constructive comments to help make it better, and kudos to reassure me that it's as slick as I think it is.

If you know someone who you think would be interested in or benefit from either spiritual direction or tarot readings, please send them the link.


Now if you'll excuse me, I have a happy dance to do!

At the beginning of the "Sacred D/s" workshop I just attended we spent a minute each introducing ourselves with the usual: name, bdsm orientation, intention in coming to the class, and whatever else felt pertinent.

During my intro I said that I was a priestess of Ereshkigal and that part of my path was to work with people in this area, and that I was also interested in learning how others do it.

A few minutes ago I got out the presentation on "BDSM and the Sacred" that I did for last year's Pantheacon, and I saw how good it was, how much more material there was than what I'd just sat through, and I realized: No, I don't want to learn "how others do it." I don't want to sit in any more classes and listen to someone else talking about concepts which I have developed extensively -- and uniquely -- on my own and with my own partners. I want to be standing in my own authority and teaching my own classes.

This is not to say that I never want to study with someone else in this area. I always want to learn. But it's time to stop using attending other peoples' classes are prerequisites to teaching my own class.

I was thinking late last night about reaching out to the author of The Wild Hunt for some networking suggestions around the new path I alluded to in my last entry. . . and this morning I scrolled down my other friends page to find the latest Wild Hunt article is "Why Having Pagan Military Chaplains is Important."


No, I'm not going to try to become a military chaplain -- although if I was ten to fifteen years younger and childless I might consider it. But for the past week, I've been getting more and more strong hints that I should start becoming a spiritual director for Pagan veterans -- although anam cara feels like the better title in this context.

Although I often forget it, my own spiritual director is a veteran, and he has a friend/colleague who is a chaplain at the local VA. I have the resources immediately at hand to do some testing of my vocation in this area and see if it really would be a good fit -- and/or what additional mentoring or training I would need to be ready for such service.

I am not a warrior, but all my life I have been drawn to warriors, and my vision of priestessing has always included an element of working with warriors, even though I was only able to start doing some of that with LM and Michael. I'd never thought of making it part of my spiritual direction practice until Michael started writing to me from Iraq about the changes in his faith since re-enlisting. . . and then I stumbled across an entry by alfrecht in which he highlighted Brig Ambue and then sent me his article about Imbolc and the purification of warriors. . . and then when I was starting to do a tarot reading around this question cards starting jumping out of the deck while I was shuffling: The Hierophant, The Empress, The High Priestess, and Six of Swords. Not to mention other things coming through during my devotions.

I have to explore this.

[x-posted]

Every time I prepare to sit with someone as a spiritual director or to do a tarot reading I worry that I'm not going to be able to say anything -- or bring anything through -- that will actually be of value to the other person, actually justify their honoring me with their time, their story, their trust. . . their money.

And yet each time I meet with someone, something does come through.

I feel very blessed. Blessed by those who honor me by seeking my services, and blessed by the deities who help me make the connections and see the patterns and speak the words that help others find what they need for their journeys.

I mentioned here a week or so ago that I need to update my profile, but I haven't done it yet. I just haven't made the time to work through how the various elements fit together now -- at least in a way that makes a reasonable introduction to someone browsing for new friends.

Today, during the class I'm teaching on personal spirituality, the topic was "The Divine: Images, Names, Relationships." Preparation for today's session was to create a collage that represented that person's images/thoughts/feelings/etc. about the Divine.

I made one too.



The people in the class today were from a fairly conventional background, so most of the images I'd chosen were way outside their frame of reference. They were very interested in learning about each one, which was nice. . . but at the end one woman -- my mother -- asked in a tone that was not quite plaintive: Why a dark goddess?

I had been expecting the question, of course, but I still found myself struggling to answer it. I could say, "Because that's who called me," but that wouldn't really answer her deeper question, which was "Why would you follow the dark instead of the light? What is it about the dark that attracts you, and should I be worried about you?"

The first thing I did was to reassure her that "dark" in this context was not "The Dark Side of the Force" -- but I stumbled after that. I talked about the depths, about facing our shadow sides, about helping people mediate and heal grief, shame, and fear. I didn't think to talk about the power of transformation in the dark, or about the death process (I'm not very advanced in that area myself, having been focused more on grieving this past year).

I won't say that I was embarrassed by my inability to present my path -- and my patron deity -- in a clear and coherent way. . . but it was made very clear to me that I need to spend some time thinking about this, so that when people do ask -- and they will, because I'm supposed to be "out there" where people can see me and ask questions like that -- I will be able to explain what I do in a way that is accurate and doesn't needlessly push buttons. (I'm sure button-pushing will be necessary on occasion, but I don't want to do it without intent.)

This of course comes back to the subject of updating my profile here. If I can do one, I'll be well on my way to accomplishing the other as well.

It's the middle of the night, and I've been up since 5:15am. I'm exhausted, but too wired from the success of my class ("You should write a book!" they said!) and the stress of traveling to settle down to sleep right away. Will crash soon, however.

P-con was an amazing experience, on all sorts of levels.

Updates to come as soon as I have time to rest and do some integratation.

Short version: a couple of initiations, some notable encounters with Big Name Pagans, meeting some old LJ friends and making new friends, discovering how essential shielding is, being blown away by the positive spirit of the event. . . and slam-dunking my class.

I am so very grateful to the friends, lovers, teachers, and deities who encouraged, shared, inspired and butt-kicked me to get me there and then took care of me at the event.

Michael came over on Sunday afternoon to help me clarify some of my ideas for my Pantheacon class and then do some "hands on" practice.

It was a great time. We didn't actually get to the practice part, but the discussion was exactly what I needed. I'm usually very good at putting concepts into words, but his experience in this area was invaluable in helping me draw clear, useful connections. I wish he could come with me and co-teach the class, but his life has been in such turmoil over the past few weeks and months he doesn't have the resources or time. Hopefully we'll be able to team teach locally later this year, ideally in a venue where there could be actual demonstrations and/or class participation.

Yesterday we starting brainstorming about what we're going to do for this week's practice session. I think it's going to be a ritual designed to advance my journey of getting more in touch with Water. It's his primary element, but the one I have the most difficulty with.

Hopefully I'll have some new insights and things to share Sunday night. . .