MLK

 mlk

How could I let this day go by without saying something about my childhood hero and ancestral inspiration for all of my life?

Many folks don’t understand that, in spite of all that he may not have done and been, I am still a loving supporter of Barack Obama. Why? The answer is simple. He is fulfilling at least a small part of MLK’s dream, simply by being who and where he is. Beyond that, he is providing the young generations of African Americans with a role model. He gives them back some bit of hope that generations before them had long since lost.

I grew up in the 60’s with the Viet Nam war and the Civil Rights movement.  The women’s movement was also taking form, as well as widespread coverage of the many various demonstrations and protests that were going on around those causes.  I was raised by activists. My two great aunties who raised me had been instrumental in the eradication of the Klan influence in Colorado Springs during the 1940’s and 1950’s. I grew up knowing that it was my right and duty to address the wrongs that I saw in our world.  I have never lost this part of me, and I’m grateful to my aunties for giving it to me.

I would say that today, I am most grateful to MLK Jr. for being a force in the world I grew up in. I was 13 when he was assassinated, and like many people of color of that time, I mourned his death, along with my family.  I have often wondered throughout my life, how might things in our world have been different if he’d have lived? Would he have been behind Same sex unions? Wouldn’t he have been so very proud to know that we have a Black president? What causes would he have been championing now? He was cut down, just as he had started to lodge protests about the war in Viet Nam, how would he have seen the wars this country has been involved in since then? Or simply, how might things have been different had he lived?

We can speculate, but sadly, we will never know what things he would have done, and how the  history would have played out had he lived. I do know this, however, the world is a much better place for his having walked in it. He paved the way for Barack Obama and all the other Black people who have risen to high positions. I feel grateful that I was able to get a Master’s degree, I feel that doors were opened to me that may not have opened before. I have great hope for my children, and I know that they have many more opportunities than even I had.

I will say only this in closing, I am sincerely and truly grateful that Martin Luther King Jr.  was in the world, even if his time was tragically cut short. I am grateful for the hope he has given to me and generations after me. I am grateful that he lived.

Poetry–Joy Harjo

Poetry has always been healing for me. When I was young, it was the thing that I resorted to for comfort–to get my feelings out, to feel sane again, and as safe as a young African American girl could feel in this culture. I would write in my room, alone, in my own special notebook, and I always felt so good when I’d write something I thought was especially wonderful.

A few years ago, I chose to go on what I called a moratorium. I read nothing but works by people of color, it has continued until today–that was the year 2000. It has been a rich experience for me to find new voices, to read the hearts and spirits of the people who look like me. Today, I will end  this writing with a lovely poem by Joy Harjo that a friend shared with me. It is time for me to be fearless…

I release you, my beautiful and terrible
fear. I release you. You were my beloved
and hated twin, but now, I don’t know you
as myself. I release you with all the
pain I would know at the death of
my children.
You are not my blood anymore.
I give you back to the soldiers
who burned down my house, beheaded my children,
raped and sodomized my brothers and sisters.
I give you back to those who stole the
food from our plates when we were starving.
I release you, fear, because you hold
these scenes in front of me and I was born
with eyes that can never close.
I release you
I release you
I release you
I release you
I am not afraid to be angry.
I am not afraid to rejoice.
I am not afraid to be black.
I am not afraid to be white.
I am not afraid to be hungry.
I am not afraid to be full.
I am not afraid to be hated.
I am not afraid to be loved.
to be loved, to be loved, fear.
Oh, you have choked me, but I gave you the leash.
You have gutted me but I gave you the knife.
You have devoured me, but I laid myself across the fire.
I take myself back, fear.
You are not my shadow any longer.
I won’t hold you in my hands.
You can’t live in my eyes, my ears, my voice
my belly, or in my heart my heart
my heart my heart
But come here, fear
I am alive and you are so afraid
of dying.

Waiting to Inhale

 

A friend of mine and I had lunch the other day. We have been friends and activists together for many years. We were talking about many various things, especially around our acceptance of getting older. She and I are also folks who pay attention to our inner worlds, and notice how we are affected by the ongoing events of the outer world.

It has been, from what we could see, a rough year for many people. It seems that we have been shaken to the core of our beliefs, and have had to question all we are, have been, and wish to be. She was speaking of a young friend who’d recently said that it feels like we are in a place where we have let out all the air in our lungs after what have been strong and fierce battles on many fronts, and that it feels as if we are waiting to inhale.

When I was in my time of learning at Naropa, we were taught meditation practice as a part of our studies in Transpersonal Psychology. During the meditation, our teachers would point out, as part of our breathing in, and breathing out, that there is a moment they call–”the gap”. It is when we have consciously let all of the air out of our lungs, and there are these very few seconds when we were asked to “rest in the gap” before taking the next breath.

It was always amazing to me how often in my life I’d never even thought to stop and think about and feel that part of the experience of breathing. I noticed right away, how there is often a sort of desire to get on with the next breath, and a sort of impatience with the noticing. It felt as if the next breath was a sort of relief when we were finally able to take it. I just tried this exercise while writing this, and noticed that while in that time of the gap, I could actually feel and hear my heart beating.

Those of us who have been really busy over the recent years, feel an actual need to get on with the next thing. To sit and just rest in this gap feels a little foreign. Yet, there is a sort of comfort in it, a time of gathering strength, a time of checking in with self and allowing self to get back into a rhythm that feels natural and strong. As elders, we are not the ones who are expected to remain forever on the front lines, but to step back and rest, say the prayers, call forth the ancestors and pray, and pray. It seems that in the gap, there is plenty of space for prayer, and opening a space for the ancestors to answer…

Ritual as Healer for Trauma

Many years ago when I first read writings by Starhawk, she spoke of ritual as reaching our child self. It is my contention as a therapist, that a great amount of work can be done around trauma when we are able to touch into the deeper self that is affected by trauma.

I have had a number of clients over the years who have described events in their childhood or after,  and were surprised, yet relieved, to finally have come to understand that what happened to them was a form of trauma. Generally speaking, when we speak of trauma, many think that it is always cataclysmic–such as witnessing a murder, being involved in a war, or an automobile accident. Yet, it is often something that may seem simple, such as a scolding by a parent, being made fun of by other kids, or not feeling supported in our dreams and desires.

To work with Trauma, there are, in Transpersonal thought, many components to consider.  I have come to utilize Starhawk’s idea with this thought to understand that there is, to begin with,  a physical component–the trauma gets stored in the body, and not necessarily where it may have happened, but sometimes in other places. It’s my experience that most sadness and pain are stored near the heart. Fears are often in the belly or the “gut”.  Any sort of sexual abuse may be anywhere, and is often a full body experience that the person may need some sort of physical exercise to work with. One person I worked with would jump up and down and shake their body, sort of like you see boxers doing before a fight. Oddly, it is often a “battle” that is raging in the body of the person that needs to be pushed out through movement–dancing, running, punching a bag, whatever the person feels the most comfortable with.

We are our mind. Often, in trauma, we are deluged with a number of thoughts that may be intrusive, thoughts of what happened, how it happened, why and where. These thoughts can be problematic if the person is unable to let them go, or they turn into what we call–“flashbacks”, or pictures/recurrences of the original trauma(s) that may pop into the mind at any given time.  It is important that the thoughts be redirected, or that they be worked with in some way. I often suggest various practices that will help to lessen or eradicate the intrusiveness of them. For some, writing works, for others, drawing, painting, clay, or something creative with the hands.

We are emotions. We have feelings that are attached to the incidences of trauma. When trauma happens in childhood, there is much that gets caught up in it. If parents or family are the abusers, there is a lack of trust and most often a fear of those who are in authority. There may be feelings of abandonment if one parent was the abuser, and the other either wasn’t there, didn’t know, or did nothing to protect the young one from the abuse. There will also be feelings of sadness and loss around the childhood that was thwarted. These feelings may be even stronger, than the incidents that caused the trauma in the first place. it is not my point to make this sound simplistic–it is not, as each of the family members involved have their part in what has happened, it is often very complex, and may involve much in the way of time and energy to allow the healing to begin and move forward.

In Transpersonal thought, there is the addition of “spirit”. By this term, I mean the inner self, the part of the self that lives on after it leaves the body at death. During life, the spirit is often wounded as well. Our spirit is where our sense of drive and forward movement comes from. It is where we hold our desires and dreams, and is the part that is easily wounded, as each new spirit that comes into the world comes in pure and clear. A young spirit can be broken by being pressured to do something it doesn’t want to, or by being forced to accept life conditions that are painful or scary. Healing the spirit requires a different sort of work. The young self may feel very lost and alone. It may involve calling forth ancestors or helping spirits. This work is best done in a setting that is different from the usual therapy session, and in my opinion works best in sacred space.

As a priestess, I have performed probably hundreds of rituals during my 30 years as a purveyor of the sacred and the divine. A number of these rituals have been during and part of a therapy session, as it has been a way to help some to come to grips with all that has happened to them.

Ritual, in my estimation, has been a powerful way to create openings in the healing work, to acknowledge the desire to heal, and to celebrate the work that has been accomplished. Each person’s ritual/ceremony will be different, depending on what has happened to them, and how they have been coping with it all along. Trauma affects the spirit in many ways, to bring forth the greatest healing will look different for each person. They often wish to first let go of whatever they deem no longer needed from their painful past. From there, given that the letting go has created a vacuum, they may wish to find symbols, or representations of their healing and newly found strength to bring into themselves as they move forward.  Beyond that, there is often closure that may be needed for them to come to, so they can effectively finish that chapter of their lives, and begin to move on in new ways.

Trauma is so much a part of our culture it requires a great deal of will and desire to begin healing from it. What I have set forth is a model from work I’ve been doing over the years with many individuals. If you contact me, you will see what I can offer you, in light of what you need to work with.  I offer a safe space, a place of power, where one can take their life back from whatever has been in the way or keeping them from living as fully as they wish to. I also offer, along with ritual, a place of hope, a circle where other beings, helper spirits and ancestors can communicate their support and presence. Depending on the trauma, this process may take time, but I am here to offer hope that it can be overcome.

Eldering Continued

It has taken time  time for me to slide  into my new role. I remember a one of a few startling moments along the way. There was an occasion on Pine  Ridge, when I was being introduced to a young girl by her mother, and she said to her daughter: “this is grandma Soltahr”. I was a little taken aback, because I truly didn’t think of myself as a grandma. My children just left home a year ago! But, there I was, aware that many women I knew who were younger than I, already had grandchildren, even though my children just left home a year ago. I also think that I had seriously thought I didn’t really look my 58 years of age–well, I could hope, couldn’t I?

Yet, I also felt a little pride, in  knowing that I was being seen as one of the women I most revered in my life. Upon turning 50, I had been pondering this notion of being/becoming a wise elder, and what did that look like for me?

What I do know for sure is that I feel ready to be there now, even though I didn’t necessarily understand all that it meant. I am learning. It is a new journey for me, and as of this moment, I like it.

It has become a time of discovery of my innermost world. During my time as an active mother, I didn’t have a lot of time for introspection, though I knew that my children were teaching me all along, and that the journey of motherhood was, by its nature, a time of great learning. I learned how to be selfless and selfish all at the same time. Giving of myself to my twins–teaching them, helping and supporting them in school, socially, and of course at home. I will never regret the time and energy I put into my children, because it has paid off, in that they are amazingly well put together young women, and both amazing artists. They chose to get out on their own, and they are doing just fine. I am proud of them.  I am proud that I was able to raise them as a single mother, even though our culture stacks the odds against single parenting.

I mentioned that I was also selfish during my single mothering years. I was able to put myself through grad school and get into the world of my profession while still keeping my self healthy and strong. I did this by balancing my tome with my children, with work, and having something of a social life as well. I had priorities, I came first. Why me, and not my children? Because if I  didn’t take care of myself, there would be no one to take care of them. I bless and am grateful to my ancestors for their help and guidance, as well as giving me the important lessons in life that I most needed, in order to  become a better woman, a better mother, and, I suspect, perhaps a better crone, as I progress further into that part of my journey.

Next: How I am learning to turn my knowledge of life into wisdom about a number of different experiences along the way.

Eldering

My mother died on July 21st of 2009. In March of that same year, my grandmother passed on as well.  After that time, I didn’t quite realize it, but I began what would come to be (though I didn’t know it at the time) a journey to find my wise woman self.

It presented as sadness at these losses, then, became a sort of depression.  I know this, not just because I’m a therapist, but because I know myself really well. Many writers down through time have written of what is called: “Dark Night of the Soul”.  What they are referring to is a time in ones life where there is some sort of reckoning with ourselves and who we are. It is usually/often triggered by some external event, yet, it may also come about because of some internal malaise that we are experiencing.

I began to question all that I was, all I had learned, all I had ever wanted to be. I could see that I had done much of value in my life. I raised my twin daughters to adulthood–alone, and had gotten my Master’s degree, 10 years before.  I had taught at universities, and in 2012, I published my first book. Yet, something felt missing, and it took me until only recently to figure out who I really am, and where I am at in my life.

In late Spring of this year, which leads into my birthday in June, I felt as though this descent into darkness took an even sharper turn. My daughters struck out on their own in August of 2012, and I was actually homeless for a few months, as I didn’t have/wasn’t making enough money to afford to get a place of my own.  I thought at the time that I would go on a journey, I even went so far as to say my goodby’s to everyone, thinking I would set out and just drive away. What transpired however was a journey that took place within me, and a new road in my life that led me to the Pine Ridge reservation in South Dakota. I didn’t journey as I’d hoped, yet, the riches I have gained from my journeys to Pine Ridge have been the most wonderful times for me. The gentle sweetness of the Lakota, paired with a fierceness and purpose–showed me new ways to be in my world. To no longer allow others to trample over me, and to remain deeply tied to Mother Earth at all times.

As I take time to step back from the last 4 years since my mother died, I could see that I was on a path to create and birth the inner wise woman in myself.  With my children gone, I was no longer an active mother, and hence it was time for me to take up the mantle of my age, to accept that I am becoming a crone. Those 4 years were brutal on me emotionally–I met and healed my inner child, I healed the wounded woman who’d been abused by her ex-husband and previous relationships, I lost my fear of doing and saying exactly what I need to in my life. I found my voice, I found the boundaries that I needed to set, in order to remain safe and sane. I learned from the relationships I’d had with lovers and friends, I saw the lessons, that while painful, meant that I had grown. I even felt the pangs of death, yes, longed for them. Yet, I did not die, like the leaves in fall,  I transformed instead.

So here I am, a short ways off from 60, yet, I feel renewed, revived, alive. I do not wish to spend out the second part of my life watching from the sidelines in a rocking chair. I wish to spend my time being fully alive, being in love with the sheer joy of lending my loving spirit as a guide to those who are following behind. Life is a gift. Now I see this.