I still think the result of this trip to the vet is going to be favorable, because the doctor who will be operating on Mrs. Wigglebottom is Dr. Ochin, which is pronounced ‘Dr. Ocean,’ but which I immediately heard as ‘Dr. Oshun’ and I thought that anyone who carries with him every day the name of the sweet mother of us all would carry with him some Good Fortune that would carry into his dealings with my dog.
I picked this place to live because it was the place that seemed to speak to the Folks who speak to me.
It’s a screwy way to organize your life, but it’s my way and I stick to it in my own way.
I cannot help but think of my brief neighbor, Zora Neale Hurston, who, when hearing about these gods, took them seriously and went to see for herself. I often think of her laying naked on a couch, wearing only one sock, Someplace Else.
I have been unable to get Dianne’s post about her parting ways with Lilith out of my head. There’s some truth there that speaks to my soul. The whole post is good, but the two bits that keep swirling around are
I longed for a god who looked like me, to whose image I could relate, who didn’t demand my subservience because of my vagina. I wanted to choose to serve Deity not out of fear of some dreadful consequence, but out of love.
I am through serving a god I fear.
I bring both these things up because I was thinking this afternoon about how I felt a couple of years ago like I was handed over by the Old Man to the Women, and that it was with the Women that I was supposed to take these next steps.
I consider myself to be a universal polytheist in that I believe that Oshun is just as real as my Women, but I consider myself to be a Heathen in that the folks I run around with are the Germanic gods. I can understand having a Dr. Ochin as being Favorable without reading it as some sign that I am supposed to turn and follow Oshun now.
I live in a diverse community. I know my family and friends and neighbors best, but it seems reasonable to find Other folks in the neighborhood.
Ha, well, it’s October, the time for crazy posts.
I have a point, I swear. And this is it. I believe the Christian god is male. I don’t believe it’s a mistranslation or a misunderstanding or millenia of sexism. I choose to take Him at His word and if He says He’s the Father and the Son, who am I to sit around and say “Oh, but He really meant ‘Parent’ and ‘Child’.” Since I have the most experience understanding sacredness through understanding it in relation to a male god, I feel like I most easily understand sacredness through maleness.
It’s easier for me to pick up on that kind of holy energy and understand the presense of a male god than it is for me to feel some kind of female sacredness.
It is for exactly this reason that I think the Old Man dropped me off with the Women and left me to work with them.
And I think the task is clear–understanding and recognizing what is sacred in myself, learning to feel with certainty what is magical moving through me, in order to recognize it in its undistilled form and to interact with it.
But being clear doesn’t make it easy. Before, I could tell when the space shifted and something sacred had arrived because something with a very different energy was present. But this requires something different. It requires, I think, first, a recognition and a proper valuation of my own worth, both as a human being and as a sacred being. That is hard enough, especially when you’re brought up in a culture that teaches you that you don’t have much worth as a person or as a spiritual being. But the second step, of getting in touch with that energy so that you can learn to recognize when it is present in the form of something larger than you, is what has me thrown for a loop.
I feel quite adept at recognizing Difference as being Sacred, but I’m not at all sure how to recognize an abundance of Sameness as the presense of the Divine. Both because I’m not sure I am convinced of the Sacredness of my own self and because I’m not sure how to recognize more of that energy.
Anyway, serving any god is really not for me. Working with? Being in relationship to? Yes and yes. Not that it matters. It’s a struggle to find words that convey what you mean when what you mean doesn’t quite fit into words.
Some days, though, I feel like I’m getting at something, some feeling of the core truth of what it means to be a woman, that feeling of pushing out and taking in and breaking open and closing back up. For me, it’s the miles of difference between “Dust you are and to dust you shall return” and “This land I am and to this land I shall return.”