Although I am a middle aged woman with 4 sisters, 1 sister-in-law, an 82 year old mother, and various women friends, I have been slow to come to the ways of the Goddess. It even seems frivolous or “New Age” to name a search for her, but I think if I said I was searching for God, I would be seen to be on an honoured and well worn path.
What is the face of my resistance? I suppose it is the same face that grits itself against any profound change: the face of fear, or uncertainty. In spite of burned bras and equal pay for equal work, I live in a culture based on male dominance. All of my married life has been a struggle to somehow understand a male based economy, as well as partner fairly with my husband, live in harmony with his vision, raise our children, and make the dailiness of life work. Where is the goddess in that, I wonder? I shudder at that complaining note of naming it “his vision,” and then I wonder if fear of complaining is another tool to dissolve goddess thought.
If women turned on-mass to a search for feminine sacredness, would we loose our men? Alienate them? Is it like watching soap operas, and we’ll become so involved we’ll forget to sweep the floor?
Yesterday, my sister Maureen and I did woman natter time. I needed to talk about my worries, and drink of her support. She returned the favour with hurting tales of her own. We were in the age old play of women in the kitchen, surrounded by the carnage of post supper flotsam. While we talked, I noticed a shimmering glow to our exchange. Each of us looked with complete admiration at the strength we saw in the other’s face. Yes, we were “complaining”, talking about enduring ancient marital land mines, but it was obvious that we were also rich with the strength of doing so. We are both in 30 year marriages. Most of our world is good. We both expect to get through whatever curves life throws our way. She is in her second year after radical breast cancer treatment. I am dancing on the thin ice of guiding a 15 year old teenage son, who thinks marijuana is a suitable and fun relaxant for he and his friends. She and I get tired. We both have areas where we know our husbands just can’t hear us. It’s lonely.
Yet we are strong. Obviously so. We are passionate. We are faithful to our vision and understanding and hope of relationship. We expect answers. That’s what questions mean; a faith in answers. I’m beginning to realise we were dancing in goddess energy last night. The altar was my kitchen table. We were calling on the power of Everywoman. From every era. We were evoking lineage to the power to survive, to have faith, to pour another cup of tea, and then weave the next bolt of family cloth. Holy moment was the recognition of our enduring strength. It is not in us to give up. I have ignored and muted this power. Will I need too much if I listen to and speak in woman voice, rather than in couple/wife, mother voice? Is there a difference?
It’s time I find out.
I am beginning to see that it is not success, but the faith in success that marks goddess energy.
What can my fear be? If I name it fear of being even more woman(ly), does it underline a sense that it might be harder to hold a family together if I touch and nurture each day my essential wild/wise woman? Will I burn bridges? Is more womanly equal to more weakness?
I am setting these questions free.
I think embracing goddess energy means embracing real differences between the male and the female psyche. Not just complaining about them, but embracing or hugging, and celebrating them. It means giving up the question “why doesn’t he understand” and luxuriating in the knowledge – “I understand.” Goddess energy is the lightest touch and the most ferocious roar.
At it’s best, I think goddess energy might be a connection to the forevermore continuance of woman flow: our milk, our menses, our tears, our rapture. This is a river every woman knows, and from this river rises the collective consciousness of woman power, goddess power. Name her Kuan Yin, or Grandmother Earth, or Mary. Name her me. Or you.
