fbpx

It’s all going to end badly

Jun 20, 2016 | Sacred Stories, Spirituality, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

A few weeks ago, while talking to my therapist, I mentioned my ongoing and haunting hunch that the archetype of the Prophet is mine to live into and fulfill: one who says what must be said, who speaks the truth, who proclaims what others don’t or won’t. (I’ve written before about how I actually think this archetype is
true for all women.) Here’s what he said to me:

“It’s all going to end badly!”

“And what do you-of-all-people know about the stories of the prophets, Ronna?!? Right! They get dragged through excrement and tortured with hot coals and lay naked in the streets and sometimes are even killed! So, if that’s a given, then you may as well say what the hell you have to say, because there’s no happy ending! Get on with it!”

(I love this guy!)

This may sound depressing to you – and I’ll admit, on my worst days, it sounds that way to me, too. But it also offers me profound freedom! If it’s all going to end badly anyway, then it really doesn’t matter. If all my labor and effort and toiling and work will, ultimately, be misunderstood and potentially even maligned, then why not go for it?!?

I suppose I can try to forego this ending, circumvent it somehow – or at least attempt such. I can morph myself into something or someone other than who I am in order to be more acceptable, tame, and market-savvy. I can blog and write and speak about things far less divisive and derisive. I can leave spirituality totally off the table. I can eliminate the word “God” from my vocabulary.

Yep. I could do all of this (and so could you: just change the words so they apply), but then I wouldn’t be doing what I do (nor would you). And that seems even more problematic than a less-than stellar ending.

Still too depressing? OK. Here’s some redemption.

As my therapist and I continued to talk he said,

“Seriously, Ronna. Are there any stories of prophets that don’t end badly? I don’t actually know…but you do. Tell me, p-l-e-a-s-e, if there is any other outcome!”

And here is what I said: “Actually, there is one story of a prophet that doesn’t end badly. And interestingly, it’s the story of a woman.” As soon as I spoke those words, the two of us stared at each other and then both, in our own ways, said, “Well, OK then!” and laughed.

Since that conversation I’ve done a bit of homework. There are actually 10 women in the Bible who are named as prophets and nothing bad happens to any of them! So, new approach:

It’s NOT going to end badly!

This creates just as much freedom as its negative counterpart! If no matter what I say or do – in speaking the truth and telling the truth and being committed to the truth – it is not going to result in a horrific or brutal end, then I may as well say and do what I’m here to say and do (and you, as well)!

Here’s the bottom line:

It really doesn’t matter how things are going to end – whether badly or well. What matters is that I stay the course, stay committed to that which I believe (in), stay focused on that know-that-I-know-that-I-know voice within, stay on track, and just stay, period. (You, too.)

And all the while holding this as truth: …whether by conscious choice or circumstantial demand, women inherently and instinctively are prophets. We inherently and instinctively see and know truth – deep in our bones. We don’t want to incur the risk of speaking truth and we must. We don’t want to bear the cost or harm of saying what others don’t want to hear and we can’t not. We’re caught between the proverbial rock and hard place.

Clearly, we are prophets. And we are in good company. 

The ending doesn’t matter one bit. The story we’re telling and living does.

May it be so.

A Meditation Gone Awry

Mar 1, 2013 | Sacred Stories, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

I listened to a meditation a few days back called, “Inner Goddess.” What enticed me to such? First, it was free. But second, really, how could I resist that title? Not seconds in, I heard these words:

“To experience a sense of transformation is to call upon all the other women who have lived throughout time; that have embodied certain qualities that we want to strengthen within ourselves.”

Though the calm voice intended for my breath to slow; mine caught in my throat. I gasped. My pulse quickened. And my mind leaped far beyond her words into concepts, ideas, and entire worlds of my own.

Somewhere in the distant recesses of my mind I heard her mention Isis, Medusa, Aphrodite, and others. I listened, distractedly, to the affirmations she called forth; specific messages each of these goddesses wanted me to hear, incorporate, and believe. But more, I recognized my heartbeat – a deep, steady “yes” that longs for, trusts in, and knows this connection to other women who have lived throughout time; for me, the ancient, sacred women of Scripture.

Maybe this is uniquely my bias, but it seems we are far quicker to assimilate the relevance, messages, and presence of goddesses like Isis, Medusa, and Aphrodite than we are those of Eve, Hagar, and Mary (just to name a few). We have the conceptual bandwidth to understand and allow for the influence of mythic archetypes, but find ourselves quickly tripped and bound by the biblical text (and accompanying doctrine, religion, dogma, conservativism, et. al.) within which so many incredible and inspirational women’s stories dwell.

This is not only problematic, it is nearly unacceptable.

Today, were a woman’s identity known only as “the wife of…” she would rail, scream, and fight. And yet, we are content to let Eve and her lineage’s identity remain only as “those stories in the Bible.”

As long as we do, we are disconnected from our own lineage and our own legacy.

This breaks my heart.

This propels me forward.

This transforms my life.

That is not to say that I don’t understand others’ perspectives and experiences. It can feel messy and tricky and even seemingly dangerous to wander into Scripture; so prone are we to distrust what’s housed within or the agenda of the one who is interpreting it. Still, the beauty and wisdom inherent in these ancient sacred narratives is powerful and cannot be denied. Like the Greek and Roman goddesses, these women too, are available (and waiting) to be called upon, invited, and heard.

This is what I attempt to do: resurrect, re-imagine, re-tell their stories so that they are redeemed; but more, so that we might be strengthened by their companioning presence, their hard-won wisdom, their connection to our truest self. I’ve done it over and over with Eve; the gorgeous women even giants couldn’t resist; Noah’s wife; Sarai; the Extravagant woman; and so many more to come.

I’m just getting started.

It’s possible, of course, that I’m preaching to the choir; that I’m writing this post for the sole purpose of convincing myself of what I most need to hear. If so, I’m fine with that. But if, somehow and miraculously, my words are what you need to hear as well, then you can be certain that I am smiling…and…feeling my breath catch in my throat while my heart beats, “yes.”

Trust me, Eve and so many others are experiencing the same resonant response – each of them inviting you to call upon them, beckoning you to know them, encouraging you to walk with them; but more, to experience the sense of transformation we so passionately long for and which can so readily be found in those who have gone before us – who remain with us, even now.

“To experience a sense of transformation is to call upon all the other women who have lived throughout time; that have embodied certain qualities that we want to strengthen within ourselves.”

May it be so.