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A story about (in)visibility

Women: you are not unseen, unheard, or invisible! Ever!

Do you ever feel as though you (and other women) are unseen, unheard, invisible? As though your story doesn’t have all that much signi cance in the larger scheme of things?

Don’t believe it! Nothing could be further from the truth!

Your story is more than signi cant, more than profound, and more than critical to the larger, gorgeous, amazing drama that’s being woven and written around you. And your place, your voice, your role, your heart is right in the middle of it! I promise!

Want an example?

Not surprisingly, I’ve got one.

There is an ancient, sacred story told of a nameless woman. We know nothing about her other than what we can deduce: she was a daughter, a wife, and a mother. These alone, in my opinion, are more than enough to give her stature, merit, and value. Sparse details hardly limit the depth or scope of her significance. She lived a story that couldn’t help but change the world. Just like yours.

After Adam and Eve left the Garden they had two sons – Cain and Abel; later, a third. One day, in a fit of jealous rage, Cain killed his younger brother. (Makes eating that fruit seem relatively mild, doesn’t it?) His punishment was to wander the earth – a nomad, no home, no family. In fear for his ability to survive, he pleaded with the Divine to protect him; to somehow keep him from being killed by those who would seek his death. And so he was given a distinguishing mark that would forever protect him. And of course, this is where we get the phrase, “the mark of Cain.”

Later in the text we read that Cain settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden. Then this, Cain made love to his wife, and she became pregnant and gave birth to Enoch. (Genesis 4:17)

That’s it. Her only mention.

Now some would say such is not even worth the bother – for a blog post or a book chapter, let alone an attempt to offer some level of meaning to those who feel their stories are small, inconsequential, almost nonexistent.

Don’t believe it! Nothing could be further from the truth!

“…there are stories we will never find, no matter how many times we search the sacred texts. I think it was Marcia Falk who wrote, ‘What we cannot remember, we must imagine.’ And so we read between the lines, listening beneath the layers of suppression and neglect to hear the chorus of voices where we were told there was only silence.” ~ Jan Richardson, In Wisdom’s Path

In between the lines and listening between the layers. Expecting to hear a heartbeat of significance, meaning, and worth.

Imagining what we deeply, intuitively, and already/always know to be true: women’s stories matter. Just like yours.

Whether myth or historical fact matters not. Her story is true. Cain’s wife sings out the continuation of countless generations: hundreds of thousands of women who are unnamed but no less real; without position, but no less powerful; barely spoken of, but hardly silent; harmed, but deserving of healing, wholeness, and strength. Cain’s wife symbolizes every single page of life and death, hope and despair, triumph and tragedy that is being written, even if seemingly unseen and unheard. Cain’s wife signifies that women endure, period. Just like you.

And if this weren’t enough (though I believe it is), Cain’s wife is the first woman mentioned outside the Garden. Eve’s daughter-in-law. The wife of a marked-man. The bearer of Adam and Eve’s grandson. A mother who heard her husband’s stories and told them to her son. One who enabled generations to follow.

She lived a significant story. She is a significant woman. Just like you. Just like all women.

So if there are days or even seasons in which you feel as though your story is not worth mentioning, barely seen, a whisper that’s hardly heard in a noisy world, take heart! Cain’s wife stands alongside you in solidarity and strength. She reminds you that every story matters and that every woman’s ability to nurture, labor, grieve, laugh, cry, persevere, live, love, and bring forth life in any and every form is what enables the far larger story to even exist, let alone be told, endure, and thrive.

You are part of a legacy of a women who endure, who make a difference, who matter.

To ever think, let alone believe anything less is a lie. Cain’s wife calls you, me, all of us back to the truth. Hear her voice:

I see you. I hear you. I know your name. I love your story. You matter. You endure. You live. This alone is more than enough. You are more than enough. Take heart: you are my daughter, my lineage, my kin.

You’re Allowed to Run

It is excruciating to be the victim of someone’s scorn, passive-aggressive behavior, or blatant harm. All of us have heard so many of these stories over the years. And…we’ve experienced the same. I doubt any of us are immune.

It is also excruciating to hear the voice within that tells us not one bit of this is ok and not respond in kind. We hear the voice that tells us to run, flee, get the heck out of dodge, but we don’t trust it; we don’t trust ourselves. Instead, we quickly see and tabulate the costs and consequences – and stand completely still. We don’t believe we have the strength to act, the capacity to survive, or the permission to consider anything other than persevering, staying put, grinning and bearing it. Believe me, I get it.

I hope you’ll also believe me when I say, You’re allowed to run!

I don’t necessarily mean this literally (though sometimes that’s exactly the right thing to do).

I do necessarily mean that you are wise-wise-wise to listen to your brilliance within that says “enough,” that stands up, that knows to walk-if-not-speed away – even if “only” emotionally and energetically – from places and persons that don’t serve you, don’t honor all you offer, don’t recognize all of who you are.

You’re allowed to run!

No matter how high the costs, vast the risks, or massive the consequences, you’re still allowed. I DO understand that you may very well choose not to. (Believe me, I get it.) But it matters that you know you have the right, the capacity, the strength, the permission, and most of  all, the desire.

Here’s what’s true: when you speak your inalienable “yes” or “no,” when you honor your intuition, when you trust your integrity-filled heart, and then run – no matter what that looks like for you, the Divine shows up – profoundly, miraculously, magically, overwhelmingly – because you do!

I am speaking from personal experience, to be sure. Even more, I am speaking on behalf of another woman – an ancient, sacred one – who lived EXACTLY this story. She was marginalized, abused, misunderstood, unheard, and unseen; still, she gave herself permission to run. And she did. Straight into the desert. (Not a spa-like, Palm Springs desert, mind you; a desolate desert. In some ways, she had to feel that things got worse instead of better. (Sound familiar?) But because she listened to the voice within that said “no more,” and because she acted, she was saved – in every possible way. She was seen/heard/met by the Divine. She was blessed immeasurably.

She walks (and runs) alongside you even now. You are, after all, her daughter, her lineage, her kin.

*****

This post is inspired by the ancient, sacred story of Hagar, the story that saved me in my darkest of times and hardest of seasons – in my own desolate desert. She is, undoubtedly, my favorite – and – I have believed, clung to, and remained certain that I am hers, as well. As are you. Did I mention? You are her daughter, her lineage, her kin.

Make your mark!

Stop listening to the insipid internal and external voices that tell you you’re inconsequential, that you don’t really matter all that much, that until you “figure out” why you’re here, what you are here to do, what your calling is, that you’re somehow missing the mark.

Once-and-forever silence those voices and choose to believe another one: your own!  That know-that-you-know-that-you-know voice within.

And if that doesn’t (yet) feel completely trustworthy, then believe me. You are making your mark just by being. Nothing more is required. No accomplishment or attainment or degree or certification or pedigree. No dues-to-be-paid. No suffering to bear. Just you. Right now. Exactly as you are. Because you are, period.

Which means you have total freedom and profound permission to rise up, step forward, speak out, say yes, say no, be you.

This is your mark!

Make it!

[This post is inspired by the ancient, sacred story of Cain’s Wife; her husband the origin of the phrase “the mark of Cain.” In the midst of his story, we have missed hers. And I think that’s a mistake. When I acknowledge her mark on the world, she is redeemed. When I acknowledge her mark on me, I am, as well.]

Sometimes the best choice is to RUN!

It is excruciating to be the victim of someone’s scorn, passive-aggressive behavior, or blatant harm. I’ve heard so many of these stories over the years. In the media. In the workplace. In families. In marriages. In churches. In friendships. (I’m hardly immune.)

There’s a voice within that tells us to run, to flee, to get the heck out of dodge. Instead, we stay – silent, enduring, keeping a stiff upper lip; we refuse to acknowledge just how profoundly this impacts our accurate and honest sense of self, how we sell our very soul.

So, run!

I don’t necessarily mean this literally (though sometimes that’s exactly the right thing to do). I do necessarily mean that we are wise-wise-wise to listen to our brilliance within that says “enough,” that stands up, that knows to walk-if-not-run away – even if only emotionally and energetically – from places and persons that don’t serve us, don’t honor all we offer, don’t recognize all of who we are.

So, run!

What would it cost you? What risks would ensue? What consequences would straggle along after you, threatening to drag you down with them? (I’m hardly immune.)

No matter how high those costs, vast those risks, or massive those consequences, you still deserve to run. I understand that you very well may choose not to. (I’m hardly immune.) But it matters that you know that you have the right, the capacity, the strength, and most of all, the desire.

When you speak your inalienable “yes” or “no,” when you honor your intuition, when you trust your most integrity-filled heart, and when you run, the Divine shows up – profoundly, miraculously, magically, overwhelmingly – because you do! Then, whether you stay or go, you are filled with blessing and strength; you carry a knowing, a secret-sense of self, a glorious glimpse of who you truly are that enables you step boldly into even the hardest and painful of situations with power and beauty.

So, run!

I promise you will be amazed by who meets you there. One look in the mirror, you’ll see her, and you’ll smile: “Oh! There you are! I know you!”

[This post is inspired by the ancient, sacred story of Hagar. She consistently and endlessly provides me strength and courage beyond-compare. She ran. She runs with me. And in such, the Divine runs toward us again and again.]

Chasing Rainbows

The night I saw THE rainbow was the culmination of another out-of-town weekend. I was in my 20’s (a very long time ago) and driving home after having played too hard; wishing for any story but my own.  Discouraged and exhausted, I headed into the most desolate part of the trip. Endless miles with ample opportunity to feel sorry for myself, to become lost in familiar regret.

When I looked up, farther than the worn and mind-numbing highway dividing lines, I saw it: a breathtaking bow across the sky. It had to be a gift, a sign, some kind of divine apparition that meant I was not alone, that things were destined to change, that my hope had been worthwhile.

I wanted a picture to preserve this memory, this memento, this marker. I rustled through my purse, leaned over to check the glove-box, and then remembered I’d packed the camera in my trunk. I decided to watch for as long as I possibly could, drive underneath and through this arc that stretched from one side of the road to the other, and then stop the car.

I let the heat of the late-evening stream into the car – windows down and sunroof open. For the moment it lasted, I imagined myself enveloped in all that color, light, magic, and promise. Then, as planned, I pulled over, retrieved the camera, and lifted my head to frame the shot.

The sky was blank. Everything was gone. Nothing was there!

It is hard to understand how something so seemingly real and substantial can sometimes be nothing more than an illusion.

On the other side, from that angle, looking back with perspective, the rainbow I’d been
chasing no longer existed. What had I been thinking?

The metaphor isn’t lost on me.

*******

Back at the height of my piano-playing days, I perfected a piece called Fantasie Impromptu by Chopin. In the middle of a start and finish that were fast, complicated, and complex was a beautiful, calming, almost haunting melody. Years later, that tune was extracted out of the larger composition and made popular. It’s name? I’m Always Chasing Rainbows. Of course.

I looked up the lyrics:

Why have I always been a failure? What
can the reason be?
I wonder if the world is toblame.
I wonder if it could be me.

I’m always chasing rainbows,
Watching clouds drifting by.
My schemes are just like all my dreams,
Ending in the sky.

Some fellas look and find the sunshine.
I always look and find the rain.
Some fellas make a winning some time.
I never even make a gain.

Believe me,
I’m always chasing rainbows,
Waiting to find a little bluebird,
in vain.

The connection between this story and the one above is not lost on me.

*******

Still – and always – I am an optimist through and through. Hope does not leave me. It is relentless. And this gets me into trouble, spells certain disaster, and has broken my heart more times than I can count.

What is the alternative?

I don’t look at either of these stories with a lens of harsh scrutiny – beating myself up for my naiveté in the first or acceding to the inherent pessimism in the second. Instead, I see my patterns – with clarity and courage. Sometimes I can laugh. Often I am called to grieve. And I am certain that I’ll know far more of both – with a better (and wiser) perspective, with ever-increasing strength, and maybe with a camera closer at-hand.

*******

I grew up learning to associate the rainbow with God’s promise to Noah that the earth would never again be destroyed. That telling skipped over one incredibly important part of the promise-fulfilled that I now have the perspective to see and offer, one that is anything but illusion: Noah’s Wife.

Whether read as literal tale or mythic archetype, her symbolism and truth are rife. She suffers through incredible tragedy and impossible-to-fathom loss. And it is on the other side of the rainbow that her flesh and blood births new life; that her legacy enables the future to exist at all. She is hope enfleshed.

As her, so too, you and me. She calls us – her daughters, her lineage, her kin – to see ourselves as the rainbow’s promise fulfilled – life sustained, legacy continued. She calls us – her daughters, her lineage, her kin – to be the visible reminder and sign that destruction never wins, that hope always endures, that beauty and life always triumph. No illusion. Promise, indeed.

“What is the alternative?” Noah’s Wife asks.

Indeed.

*******

I have lots of stories in which I’ve chased rainbows; times in which I thought I was heading toward something miraculous and amazing that turned out to be something far less, even nonexistent. Still, from this side, with perspective, I don’t believe I would change a one of them. For in spite of them all, it is hope and hope and hope that has healed my heart. It is the surviving the storm, the flood, the tragedy, the loss that has brought me blessing untold. It is the chasing of the rainbow that has made life as beautiful as it is.