You are NOT the Invisible Woman!

Jan 27, 2014 | Sacred Stories, Women's Voice & Power

Do you ever feel as though you are unseen, unheard, invisible? As though your story doesn’t have all that much significance in the larger scheme of things?

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

Your story is more than significant, 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 significance 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. 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.

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.

The God of Once Upon a Time

Mar 5, 2013 | Mothers and Daughters, Sacred Stories, Spirituality

Once Upon a Time. There was a day when these four small words would instantly transport my eldest daughter to another world. Her imagination and senses would engage. And she implicitly trusted that something rich and beautiful, something of dreams and intrigue; something that touched in deep and anticipation-filled ways was on the verge. She was a child.

Now she is a teenager. She has no time for such tales. At least not those of myth, of history, of fairytale. She is steeped in story, to be sure; but now they are narratives that create pressure and leave nothing to imagination. Boys. Body image. Behavior. They broadcast nonstop.

Everything is blatant. Everything is seen. Everything is said. And a Once Upon a Time world, at least to her, feels silly, if not a waste of time.

I cried today. For her, for myself, and in remembrance of days gone by when I could hold her on my lap and make everything right. Now hard stories seem to abound. There is no fantasy for escape; no fairy godmother to wave a magic wand; no prince to rescue.

And so I pray.

*****

I have heard that God, when beckoned, shows up for some in palpable and find-a-parking-spot ways.

This is not my experience.

Sometimes talking to God feels as silly as the stories to which my daughter now rolls her eyes. God? Really? How am I to understand, to trust, to know there even is a God – who hears and understands, let alone acts on behalf of a 52-year-old mother and her 16-year-old girl? Please.

“Please?”

*****

In all good stories the plot builds. We feverishly turn the pages, longing to see what happens next. And something significant always occurs – somewhere between Once Upon a Time and Happily Ever After. We lean forward in anticipation and hope (maybe even prayer), implicitly knowing and believing (maybe even having faith) that the tide is about to turn. We are rarely, if ever disappointed.

Nor am I.

The divine does show up. No magic wand or parking space. No “fix.” No miracle. Or is it?

A gentle wind blows through my mind and a sacred tale catches on the jagged edge of my heart. Grace whispers and soothes. And story returns. Once Upon a Time…

  • Eve longed for more, reached, and desired.
  • Noah’s wife, in the face of tragedy too excruciating to comprehend, survived.
  • Hagar was abused, abandoned, and alone…but not forgotten.
  • Hannah agonized over infertility and God heard her cry.
  • Esther took incalculable risk to save a nation.
  • Mary knew ecstatic joy and the depths of sorrow with her son.
  • The woman at the well, lost in shame, was seen and loved.
  • Mary Magdalene felt deep emotion, deep passion, deep love, deep heartache.

These stories and hundreds more are answered prayer for me. They hold and comfort. They accompany and guide. They lift me up. They calm me down. They bring me home – to myself and to the God who dwells within them. They remind me that I am not alone.

One could say that I find the divine in story. But truth-be-told, the divine, maybe even God, finds me.

And this is miracle, indeed. For in this infinite finding, I return to Once Upon a Time. To perspective. To wisdom. To hope. To an epic quest and heroine’s journey. Plot twists and turns. Battles lost and others won. Ball gowns and scullery rags. Heights and depths. Laughter and yes, tears.

*****

I cried a second time today. Deeply aware and profoundly grateful for a God who intimately and palpably reminds me I am not alone; who dwells in stories – others’, my daughter’s, and even my own.

Are there days when I wish for simple answers or a quick fix? Yes. Today was one of them. But given the choice, I’ll forego the God of good parking spaces Every Single Time for the God of Once Upon a Time.

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.

Eve Screams “No!” (Part 2)

Feb 14, 2013 | Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power

Part One of this post was written a few days ago, prompted by an all-too-familiar place of self-contempt. Through the din of that negative, internal chatter I heard Eve scream, “No!”

Eve’s scream on my behalf compels an even more piercing one on behalf of her daughters.

Eve screams, “No!” at the angering reality that one in three women on the planet will be raped or beaten in their lifetime.

Eve screams, “No!” at the unimaginable levels of atrocity that are too often ignored, dismissed, politicized, and thereby increased.

Eve screams, “No!” to the excruciating awareness that the very telling of her story has, at least in part, contributed to unimaginable harm to her legacy and kin.

Eve screams, “No!” as she watches girls sold, women abused, bodies torn, and hearts broken.

Eve screams, “No!” to any and all ways in which her lineage are denied their freedom, their desires, their appetites, their longings; any and all ways in which they are told to be silent, play small, take the blame, and feel shame.

She does not scream alone.

Another Eve stands alongside her who champions the same. Eve Ensler is an activist and author of The Vagina Monologues. She is also the leader of the ONE BILLION RISING movement, its culmination occurring today – around the world – as one billion women and men rise on behalf of the one billion women who will be impacted by violence; who will experience anything less than their divine heritage as Eve’s daughter.

ONE BILLION RISING is:

  • A global strike
  • An invitation to dance
  • A call to men and women to refuse to participate in the status quo until rape and rape culture ends
  • An act of solidarity, demonstrating to women the commonality of their struggles and their power in numbers
  • A refusal to accept violence against women and girls as a given
  • A new time and a new way of being

Eve’s primal, DNA-level scream of “No!” is embodied in Eve Ensler’s invitation to us: to dance, to walk out, to rise up, and demand that violence against women and girls end.

These Eve’s together – their screams (and their hearts) compel ours. And ours, united, can change the world.

Join ONE BILLION RISING. Scream-and-rise-and-dance-and-walk out on behalf of your forebear – the original Eve, in solidarity with Eve Ensler and one billion others, and on behalf of all Eve’s daughters.

We cannot return to the Garden of Eden (nor would we want to), but we can reclaim a world imbued with a loving God; where both genders are equal, empowered, and honored; where choice and freedom and unbridled desire reign; where endless, tenacious hope swells.

Worth screaming for. Worth rising for. Worth dancing for. Worth living for.

Eve shouts, “Yes!”

Eve Screams “No!” (Part 1)

Feb 11, 2013 | Sacred Stories, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power

The light catches my iPad screen in such a way that my reflection stares back. I look away. I hate what I see.

Familiar, lifelong contempt twists my heart as tears form in my eyes.

I take in the scene that surrounds me. The gorgeous hotel lounge in which I sit. An unobstructed view of the Puget Sound, the Cascade mountains, ferries, sailboats, and hundreds of gulls traversing back and forth across the waters. A delicious glass of red wine. Three uninterrupted hours to think, to write, to reflect.

Despite my luxurious surroundings and generous time; despite a spaciousness that removes me (even momentarily) from anxiety about money or work or daughters or relationship or just the day-to-day stresses of life; despite a deep awareness that I am appreciated, respected, cherished, and loved; despite a system of belief that tells me I am created in the very image of God, I can, in one quick glance, lose sight of it all and see only what I lack, what I fear, what I despise, what I wish.

Piercing through my downward spiral of self-deprecation, Eve screams,

“Nooooooo!”

Eve screams, ”No!” because she is tired of the voices within me that have hissed too loudly and too long for hers to be heard.

Eve screams, “No!” to jar me out of my complacency, to unnerve me, to shake me loose from all that binds, to wake me up, to open my eyes.

Eve screams, “No!” because she cannot, any longer, allow for any telling of my story that is less than glorious, gorgeous, or full of grace.

Eve screams, “No!” because she’s been silenced and shamed far too long; because she knows that her silencing and shaming has impacted mine.

Eve screams, “No!” because she can see what the world looks like when I walk through it aware of who I truly am; a world that awaits my presence, my profoundness, my perfection.

Eve screams, “No!” because she’s wants more from me, more for me, more . . . more . . . more . . . She is hungry for all the deliciousness I have to offer and she makes it clear she will remain ravenous until fed.

Eve screams, “No!” because she knows of the wisdom, compassion, and strength that her lineage can and must wield; ways of being/doing/loving that shatter old paradigms and create brand new ones.

Eve screams, “No!” because it’s time. It’s time for me (and you) to rise up, to stop listening to all that haunts, and proudly, boldly, confidently step forth; to leave Gardens overgrown with weeds that have choked the life out of me and deliberately, bravely step into a vast wilderness of adventure, passion, and fierce faith.

“Remember who you are: MY daughter, MY lineage, MY kin! You are the pinnacle of the Divine’s creative work: perfect, whole, and complete. Listen to me. Look at me. See yourself in me. As my descendant, you are royal and beautiful; regal and strong. Hold your head high. Do not doubt. Do not waver. Do not succumb to the usurpers (within and without) who attempt to pull you from your rightful place, your regal throne. Adjust your crown. Grasp your scepter a little tighter. Look that serpent in the eye and reach—toward all that awaits you, toward all who love you, toward the woman you truly are.”

I glance back down at the iPad screen, allowing my eyes to move through the words and deeper still, back to my reflection. A slight smirk. A sly wink. The faintest whiff of an apple . . .