Soltahr

Why Worry?

I was lucky enough to get away for a few days to a festival in the Black Forest of Colorado with folks from my spiritual community.
We arrived at the location, got all checked in and settled on Wednesday. In the mddle of the night, I woke up and happened to look out the window to see a pretty fair amount of snow on the trees outside my window! It’s May! We left our further North home in Spring, only to end up back in the Winter! What a funny surprise!

Yet, unlike how I might feel at home, I laughed to myself that our Gods have a great sense of humor and went back to sleep. In the morninng, we were greeted with a late Spring, Winter wonderland. Yet, I felt myself feeling oddly relaxed. I knew I didn’t have anywwhere far to go, and only a task that I signed up for on my agenda that was the equivalent of a couple of blocks away.

While it was hard to accept the return of the cold and snow, it was somehow ok. I wasn’t upset or worried about things as I might normally have been. In fact, I actually allowed myself to enjoy what seemed to be forming up as an adventure!

To be among my spiritual community is a whole different experience compared to what I deal with in the outer world. Among my community, I am revered as an elder, loved and respected. I am seen as wise and one to go to for guidance and help. I am a priestess who is called upon to lead parts of rituals or whole rituals on occasion, because my 30+ years of knowledge is valuable. I have a place, I am seen as having a place.

As a Black woman, and an elder in this world, it is–was such a treasure to feel this sense of connection and to feel for a few days that feeling of being spiritually reinvigorated, so that I could see my way through to what was/is important.

I have much more clarity than I have in recent days, though it’s often difficult to see the way. I am heartened by a new sense of personal freedom that comes from a sense of fearlessness in the manner of Trungpa. Fearlessness doesn’t necessarily mean absence of fear, but a willingness to keep going into things no matter what might be the outcome. It is also about, from my perspective, doing exactly what you need to be doing without worrying about what others think, or what you think will happen.

I am grateful for these insights, and sincerely am grateful to Joy and Jo and all who created an environment where we could stretch and learn and find our way back home–wherever that might be.

Right Relationship

Right Relationship
I have heard these words spoken often in the context of my spiritual community, and am continuously surprised at how there is often what I think of as “lip service” being given to it.
As a trained therapist, priestess, mother, friend, and lover of Mother Earth, I have, over my life, had/been in many relationships. When I was younger, I would say that I wasn’t always treated respectfully, and in turn, I wasn’t always respectful of others. I, like most of us was taught to be respectful to my elders, yet, it occurs to me that we might want to strive to be in “right relationship” with everyone we know and love, as well as all creatures, and beings that inhabit Mother Earth.

What does this mean? Relationship by it’s very nature implies that we allow ourselves to be interconnected with others, that we allow ourselves to be open to the ongoing nature of what it means to care for and about others. We live in a very busy and often chaotic world that requires much of us in terms of time and energy. It takes a lot to remain connected to others, especially to be truly and deeply connected. It doesn’t mean calling someone 3 or 4 times a day, or even 3 or 4 times a week. We do have at our disposal every form of communication and there’s really no excuse to be out of touch with others

As a woman of color, and now as an elder, it’s my thinking that I am doing the best I can to be engaged in life. In the Winter, due to the cold and ice, and how that effects my physical pain levels, I sometimes find myself not going out. I am lucky to live with my kids and my partner for now, but I think about other elders who live alone, and can’t necessarily get out at all—who checks up on them? I also think that because I have people, there is an assumption that I’m ok, and that I don’t need any help. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m pretty good at reaching out for help when I need it, yet, I’m also aware of not wanting to overstep my boundaries or take too much or become a pest. While my kids and partner help as they can, they’re not always there due to work, and often I am alone.

There is also the simple reality that elders are fragile. I know for myself, that a fall I took in December took me out of commission for about a month. I hurt my rib, and my shoulder, and was barely able to get around. It’s all very nice to send prayers and good wishes, yet that isn’t and has never been the same as reaching out and saying “Hey, how are you? Do you need any help? Need a ride anywhere? Is there anything you need?” I’m recovering, but given my aging body, I’m not as capable as I once was, and I work hard to be as self-sufficient as I can be, but occasionally need some help. Though I’m pretty good at asking for help when I need it, to offer it without my asking is priceless and endears you to my heart.

I have often fretted that we spend so much time with our faces stuck in front of computers of one size or another, and we forget to use those same amenities to reach out. A simple text, saying one of the above means worlds to someone who is alone, or feels disconnected due to pain, or inability to get around. We live in a culture where the aged are thought to somehow just disappear, and if you’re not heard from in a while, folks just assume, that you are no longer a viable being, capable of thought, presence or understanding. Nothing could be further from the truth. While I don’t often show up at a lot of events, I do get out when I can, and I continue to give to my community, my family, and I take care of myself.

I won’t belabor the ideas I’m putting forth, about elders, as I want to go on to what it’s like as a woman of color. All of my life, it has been my experience that in order to be seen and heard, I have to work at it. I’m also aware that at one time in my life, I felt that in order to be liked and accepted, I had to do what I could to get others’ attention. As I have come to understand privilege, power, white supremacy and racism, I have seen that it is not necessary for me to keep throwing myself out there, and dancing about trying to get the attention of the white folks I come in contact with. I don’t have to look friendly if I don’t feel like it, I don’t have to make eye contact if I don’t feel like it, I don’t have to do anything to help the privileged feel more comfortable with my presence in this world. So, I don’t, not anymore. I’m tired of doing that dance. It’s not that I’ve become suddenly unfriendly, it’s just that I don’t have to contort myself to make white folks feel better.

Among folks of color, we have a sort of unspoken rule about our interactions with the rest of the world. We call it “getting a pass”. You, if you are a white person, earn passes with us, moment by moment, day by day, week by week, every time we have an interaction, and even when we’re not together. What does this mean? I means staying “woke” 24/7. Why? We as people of color and LGBTQ folks and many others have no choice but to be “woke” in order to survive. If you choose to remain asleep to our needs of you, you get no passes.

What are our needs you might (hopefully) ask? Much like the needs of elders, we need you to stay awake with us. We cannot hold the pressure of being awake all the time—we need you with us. Set a reminder to check in with us on a regular basis—if you are absent for long periods of time from our lives, we assume you aren’t there for us, and we might just sign you off as an ally. When I used to visit Pine Ridge reservation in South Dakota, it was my experience that folks allowed you “in” (read—gave you a pass) if you kept showing up for them. To keep showing up for us means you are there, we can trust that you will step up if you hear a racist, homophobic, transphobic, etc. remark. If you sit in silence and leave us to fend for ourselves, you get NO passes—ever. Kindness and good intentions are all very nice, pray all you want—I won’t turn all that down, but if you can’t show up for me, if you can’t check in on me occasionally, I cannot imagine that you still care for me. It doesn’t matter what you may have done for me in the past, or if you hold me in the highest regard, what matters is the present moment, right here, right now. I need to know if you are with me, right here, right now.

Does this seem harsh? No apologies. You’re either with us or you’re not—it’s that simple, and that complex. The bottom line is truly just this: We are all in this life thing together, there are parts of the structure of life wherein inequalities are simply the way it is. To be aware of this, and to fight against them is up to us all. Join me in seeking to be more loving and kind. Consider for yourself what you can do to move toward the goal of knowing that equality is a necessary part of our culture, and our world. We don’t have it yet, working toward it is what we all need. Join me?

Blessings and Love. Soltahr

Mindfulness Bell

I am your Mindfulness Bell.
See this Brown face and remember all the brown faces
You pass by every day, unnoticing, uncaring, perhaps fearing…
This brown face is just that, a brown face, with more brown skin
Covering all the other body parts—just like yours…
Underneath is a beating heart—just like yours.
Underneath is a body that has the same functions as yours,
But can you handle the possibility that this body has been abused,
Looked down on, harassed, made fun of, poked, hit, denied entrance…
I am your Mindfulness Bell. Can you face waking up?
Can you face the difference that I show you? Can you keep your
Mind and Heart open while you learn to truly see me?
Can you allow yourself to take in all that I am without
Needing to fix or frown, or dismiss, or harm in micro ways?
Could you Mindfully approach me? Could you Mindfully let others like me Into your closed up heart? Could you let us touch you with our ages old pain?
Could you reach out your hand? Could you touch me/us without fear?
Could you Mindfully know and find love and kindness in you for me/us?
We are your Mindfulness Bell.

The Hidey Place…

The Hidey Place

When I was a little girl, the only child of African ancestry in my neighborhood and school, I struggled greatly with the world outside of myself—I still do. Being a vast introvert (though there wasn’t a word for it then that I knew of) I was astounded at the way that people responded to me, so, I learned to hide, I found a tiny place inside of myself where I could go to be alone and shut the world out.

I suspect many children of color learn this trick, or children who are sensitive, nervous or who grow up in a family where the environment is too stimulating or scary.

I loved this place, I would lay on my bed after school, close my eyes and feel a warmth surround me. I later learned, when I was meditating at Naropa, that this was a very lovely place to be in. I learned there, to let go of thoughts, fears, anguish, worries, and just be in the moment, but that came much later.

As a child, I was continuously besieged by other kids or my culture or anyone who didn’t understand the simple truth that underneath my brown skin is a person with thoughts, feelings and also great strength. Yet, when young, I was often at a loss as to how to fight off these forces that seemingly sought to destroy me, so I went within. When older, I’d get lost in music and poetry and writing. Later, I learned sewing and other crafts that I could devote the creative part of my being to without having to seriously attend to the things that were scary or threatening. Yet, also being able to bring forth things of beauty to marvel at, and to feel a sense of accomplishment and pride—things so greatly needed by my being.

Unfortunately, as a young woman in my 20’s, off to college for the first time, I learned other skills to deal with my pain—alcohol, weed, and lots of music and sex. Yet, still, at the end of the day, there was this part of me that still felt lost and so turned inward to that warm safe place from which to operate and find personal understanding. I am, and continue to be grateful that I have always been able to adapt and find inner pathways to care for my gentle and loving being who was striving just to have a place in the world.

When I got to Naropa, it seemed that I learned a whole new set of skills by different labels with which to work with things. Yet, there was an added component of what was titled “Mindfulness”, that meant all of those things I’d been escaping for all those years in my hidey place were suddenly being brought up and out into the open spaces of my being. They were painful and harsh—some of them. Others were just enlightening in a way that helped me to better love and understand myself, with all my fears and anger, as well as hopes and dreams. While some of what was there was very old, I got to explore it with a subtle honesty that helped me to find within, a sense of great sanity, acceptance and self-love for all that I had experienced, and the ways I’d created for myself to survive.

Yet, there was this other troubling piece from my time at Naropa, that I’ve only come to parse now. There was this idea of what they call “egolessness”. It seemed to me at the time, that I had just found my ego, and now, like every other force in my life, I was being asked to give up (what I thought to be) one more vital part of myself. Now, however, almost two decades later, I get it. My ego is nothing more than a holding onto all I thought I was, and all I put on a mask for the world to see. My ego wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination who I really am. While I am still in process, as an elder now, of exploring who I am with my elder friends, I have come to a place of peacefulness with it all. My ego is no longer an issue, and it’s been intriguing to find out certain things I really didn’t know while I was a Naropian struggling to make it to the cushion.

What I’ve come to understand is that the path to egolessness is a long one, and it doesn’t happen overnight. It is a conscious process of recognizing that there are parts of ourselves that we really don’t need, the hidey place of my past has been transformed into something more workable. It is a place of peace and solace still, but I go there as a way of finding myself, not losing myself. I go there as a way of being present to life and the world, when it feels as though it is all too much, and too overwhelming. I am truthful with myself while there, I can respond to the world outside, because I find in my peaceful place, she who was always there–the remnants of the little girl who sought this place also seeking peace.

In that peace, I find compassion—that quality of such importance that I didn’t truly comprehend until now. Why now? Because I can have deep and abiding love for all that little girl struggled with, and have a place of softness for her, for she helped me to where I am. That softness can also extend out to others who struggle with all that they are and all they experience, as life carries us along, like a great heaving, flowing river…

Peace is no longer an illusive state of being, but one that is always available when one is able to let go of the noise on a breath, when one is able to breathe through the difficulties, and when one is able to be honest with oneself about the sources of fear, anger, sorrow and all of the other emotions that can plague one. They are old friends I get to visit, they too lay softly in my embrace, and fade away on my out breath, like wisps of smoke on the wind.

It doesn’t mean I am not connected to the world or the people in it, or my family, friends or even myself. What it does mean, is that I am able to love from a place of acceptance of the hardness of life, as well as all the beauty around me, within me and outside of me as well.

My ego? Well, here I am writing about this, as if I know something, eh? Truly I know nothing but that I am learning to be guided by a love such as I’ve never known, and acceptance, and that I honor the strength and wisdom that has gotten me here, as well as the beautiful spirits of the many, both here now, and the ancestors before me who have granted me their attendance, hope, and unending love.

Looking at reasons for Fear

Fear
A friend recently said that we shouldn’t give in to fear.

I found this quote and thought it to be helpful as I pondered this: “The only way to ease our fear and be truly happy is to acknowledge our fear and look deeply at its source. Instead of trying to escape from our fear, we can invite it up to our awareness and look at it clearly and deeply.”–Thich Nhat Hanh

I have pondered my fear as a response to all that is going on, and while at first, I felt shame for feeling fear, given my desire to be fearless, I have come to the conclusion, however, that I refuse to feel ashamed for feeling what is a perfectly normal response to all that is going on.

As a woman of color, I have a right to feel fear, I acknowledge it, and in looking deeply at it, what I see is a lifetime of living in a culture where I have seen my people fight for their Civil Rights (once before, and now it looks like, again!) be raped, beaten, hanged, imprisoned, shot, and killed over and over again.

I get to decide what to do with my fear. I can choose to stay in my house and never go out, Or, I can look at the current situation and make some wise decisions based on what I know to be real. I faced the fact that I am not paranoid, and therefore my fear indeed has basis in reality. I am intelligent, well read, and educated, I understand history, and see the trends of what is going on, and quite frankly, I fear my government just now. They have shown over and over in the last few weeks that they don’t care about me, they don’t care about people who look like me from the Middle East, and Mother Africa, and they don’t care about a whole bunch of people that I care about.

So, while I have seen, and acknowledged my fear, I cannot escape from it, and after looking at it, I see that I am being but human. I see from the developmental perspective that I learned in my counseling program that I am being triggered in a young and primal place that said–my world is not safe, the people in charge of it aren’t safe, and I feel vulnerable in it and unsure as to what to expect. My fear is justified.

Yet, I am an adult, and as I look around me, I see that I have support, and while I may feel alone in these feelings at times, there are people who may share them. While I may feel that I am alone in rooms of people of privilege, I am actually, deeply, totally and still–ok. I will continue to do what I can, with a hope that generations after me will perhaps come to feel safer and less afraid than I am feeling today.

So fear, hello there, I’m glad I took a good look at you, as we have walked this road before. Yes, you’re right my friend, there are those in charge right now who would be happy to know that they have won, and that they have many of us in fear. But you know what? I now think that it’s better to have looked at my fear, and understood it, rather than pushing it away, as if it were a distasteful thing. I will hold it and knowing of it’s source–that small child within me–I will allow myself to feel that sense of ease and even happiness that Thay spoke of. From here, I can carry on.

Life Truly Changes Us

It has been sometime since I last made a post here on my website blog. Like many, life happens while we’re happily blogging away, and suddenly we are caught up in other things that take up our time and energies. For me, it has been physical pain.

I was in a car accident in June of 2014, and the outcomes of that accident continue to affect me. I have had to literally retrain my brain to work in different ways than it used to. I have had to get physical therapy, massage, acupuncture, and many other sorts of bodywork, aimed at, and with the goal that my body would start to feel better. In some ways it has, in others–not.

Being who I am, I have learned to adapt. I am intelligent, so have figured out ways to make my life work so that I could continue to go on with it in some form or fashion. I am magical, so have put out the intentions to find the people/healers I need to help me. All of these methods combined, have helped me to be in a place where I can start to feel like I have a handle on things–more or less.

I wish I could say I’m all better, and my physical issues are all behind me–they’re not. I have degenerating disks in my spine, and by virtue of that term, they won’t get better, my spine won’t suddenly fall back together like a movie run from end to beginning. So, I incorporate my Naropa training to get me through. I breathe a lot, I breathe through the chronic pain that plagues me, and I live my life moment by moment. I cannot look to the future, I cannot dwell over on the past–I am where I am, right here, right now.

You might wonder how do I get through this? See above. Yet, added to it all is a rich ancestor practice, and a spiritual path that gives my life meaning. I have two talented beautiful kids, a partner that loves me, a connection with the divine and those who have gone before, and a sense that all is unfolding as it should, and when it’s time for me to leave this life, I will–no fear, no anguish, no strain on my part.

This may sound like gloom and doom, and yet, I feel a strong sense of hope. On this, the last day of this year, I look at where the country of my birth is headed, and I feel both sadness and hopefulness. I see young folks who are stepping up and recognizing the need to be fully engaged with this life they are creating for themselves and their children. To hold anger toward previous generations is an argument that holds no water. Each generation does what it can, and the work continues, as it is a work in progress–always.

The sadness I feel? As one who is evolved, and who is in contact with the collective unconscious, I see a very poor choice of president, who has as his goal the desire to take us back to another place and time, who has no feelings for the people he got to support him. He cares not about the little people, he cares only for money and power as the 1% always have.

The other sadness I feel is a sense of deep grief that the amazing and wonderful president Obama is leaving office. He who gave us as Black people so much hope, our children so much to be inspired by, and a nation a taste of something we never thought we would. May history look back someday and see how much he truly accomplished despite all that was done to stand in his way. Plain and simple, I will miss him greatly.

As this old year ends, I wish for a release, and as the new year begins, may we all find peace, prosperity, love, and understanding between us all.

Many blessings,

Soltahr

No more suffering, and why can’t we take Him Down!

I’ve worked with the Transgender community for a number of years, and have often been called upon to speak from the point of view as a therapist, and most recently as a clergy person working with this community.

I was asked to speak, as part of a panel of three clergy from various traditions, at CU Boulder at the TRANSforming Gender conference this weekend. I’ve not spoken in public in recent times, so it was a wonderful thing to be asked, as we Pagans are often left out, because we haven’t always been seen as a “valid religion”.

Many years ago, I remember my coven at the time and I went to see “The Last Temptation of Christ” at the local Unitarian Church in Colorado Springs. We were all, at that time, fairly new to the Pagan path, and as we know of developmentally, touchy about how were viewed and spoken of. I remember clearly, before going into the movie, being confronted with a local man who was known for his life-size cross on wheels that he took to any number of events and places around Colorado Springs–the Gay Pride parade, abortion clinics, and any other event where his version of Christianity and his beliefs were, as he thought, being maligned.

What I remember was at some point in the verbal confrontation, he said, “well, your Goddess is a Whore!”. We were all righteously angry, and he was then met with a barrage of words from the rest of us, until eventually, it was time for the movie, and we left he and his small band of followers out in the street, while we went in to see the movie.

As I think back on that day, I now find myself chuckling as I think about how there are indeed some of the various Goddesses who wouldn’t necessarily be insulted by that title, and who might even be laughing along with me, as I thought about it.

Spiritually/Developmentally, I guess I’ve come along. Over time, and hopefully, as we grow on our spiritual path, I like to think we become more open minded. We get to branch out, learn more, be interconnected with people on our own path whose beliefs might be vastly different than our own. If we get to those later stages of spiritual development, we can then be around, welcome, accept, have interesting dialog with people of other spiritual paths who have themselves worked at being open minded, and even find common ground together.

Today, I found myself speaking with a sense of deeper understanding. I have no need to argue prophesy or philosophy with my fellow clergy, as we have hopefully gone beyond that place of needing to convince one another of the “rightness” of our beliefs, and hopefully, we can be open and honest about the journey we have each taken that has led us to where we are now. The anger is gone, the self-righteousness is gone, the fear of retribution or retaliation are gone. We are, hopefully, truly being “spiritual people having a human experience”.

So, there I was rambling along, speaking about my years as a “bright young Christian” girl, who truly and deeply wanted to understand the “faith” I had been raised in as a child. I spoke about some of the thoughts I had as a kid, and later as a young person who came to the realization that I wasn’t on a spiritual path that could feed me and I, quite literally, felt starved. I remember sitting there in church, most especially on or around Easter, when the pictures and statues of Christ on the cross were thrust before us as the symbol of our religion. I never did understand what we were supposed to take from this. As a child, I found it horrifying, the poor man hanging there on the cross, a crown of thorns thrust upon his head, bleeding from the various wounds he’d been given by the Roman soldiers, etc. As a much older person, looking back, I realized that the most pervasive thought I had as a young person was quite frankly and literally, why doesn’t someone take him down? Oh my God! Please take him down!

It never did make sense to me that this symbol was the take away. Were we to strive to be hung on a cross? Were we to strive to live a life of suffering and ultimately to be hung up to die? As I grew up a young, and later as an older African American woman, I learned in more than a few ways what suffering looked like. I learned how it felt to be ridiculed as Christ was, but to be hung on a cross? Did I want to continue along those lines? NO! Just no.

Coming to my spiritual path as I did, I came to understand that our symbols–our many various symbols are pictures of beauty, and pictures of the goodness, and the bounty of Mother Earth. I came to see that to continue to follow a religion that had its roots far away in the Middle East did not reflect me or who I am, or wanted to become. When I saw in my hands for the first time, the little round, brown Venus of Willendorf, I was stunned. Could it be that the divine could indeed be in a form that I could relate to? Could it be that the Divine was a form that was simply about being, not about some horrifying specter I’d been taught to worship.

When I studied at Naropa–the Buddhist “Inspired” University in Boulder, I was given yet another take on suffering. Their take on it was that life was indeed about suffering, but that we get to choose whether or not we wanted to, or felt the need to suffer.

As I have become an elder woman, I am now dealing with a new body that has at times become unknown to me, and I have had to learn to see myself in different ways. I also get to decide how I will walk on my path for the next years until my eventual demise. Will I be a straining fearful closed up old woman? Or could I choose to just get out in the world as I am, free to see the world as I wish, free to interact with it as I will, free to say and share my truth and experience?

I choose to have as my symbols, tiny creatures who eat at my feeder, bright yellow flowers who fill my heart and eyes with wonder, sunsets that are a thing of awe in their colors and expanse across a horizon. And death…I’d like to not suffer as I’m going out–in fact, I don’t think I will choose to.

I like to think that we who want to be seen as spiritual paths that are open and welcoming to people of all cultural groups have grown up, and can see with clear eyes what is most important that we put forward as our wisdom to the world. I like to think that in our maturity on our various paths, we can laugh at ourselves. If our paths are not about joy and about not taking ourselves so seriously, then why are we there? If we take ourselves so seriously that we cannot look through the eyes of a child and see what a child sees, then what truly, are we then seeing?