Freedom Prayer

Feel the itch to

Shed some old skin

Live in the transformation

Let the Serpent back in

Watch as it coils around you

Until you can’t breathe

Your bones begin to crack

While your gender, age, height, race…

Those defining characteristics

Begin to deconstruct as your body condenses

Wrapped in the coils tight

The Serpent then begs the question

Of your identity

Before swallowing you whole

You’d be surprised just how seductive

That kiss of death could be

It strikes at you quickly

Without warning

Leaving you forever changed

The old you was far too safe

Too boring

Death comes in to set you free

Pray.

I am not my body

I am not my past

I am not my religion

I am not my sex

I am not my eyes

I am not my university

I am not my career

I am not my family
I am not even my poetry

If you could only remember

Death sits behind your left shoulder

What’s worth fighting for?

What’s left to cling to?

Comes a time

That you just can’t carry it around anymore

I pray to the Crows

Scavengers of the sky

I offer my body

If only to free my soul

Open my pumping heart

Satisfy their thirst

I am but my Father’s daughter

Came into this world with no possessions

This is all I have to offer

Tired of clinging to a false sense of autonomy

Freedom is the unhinged and unsecured

A floating leaf; subject to God’s will

The Wind’s doing

I’d lay naked before Her

This is how I pray

Lay bare enticing the Serpents, Crows

And Wind to come to me

I smoke the tobacco for all my relations

The animals too

Om

Aho

Hallelujah

And if I could strip down

Be delivered an empty vessel

For Spirit to live through

I would

Surrender completely

And watch how the Serpent saves you

A transmutation of DNA

An evolution of grandiose proportions

Don’t let the fear of death hold you back

For self preservation means nothing

Compared to this final sacrifice

I will never be anything more;

Anything less;

Than this.

Serpents, Men and our Dying Roles

My favorite topic came up on my date the other night.

“It’s just in this culture we’re socialized from a very early age to have a one-sided view of women.  Women are constantly oversexualized and then pinned against each other on the basis of physical beauty or other petty materialistic and superficial concerns.  Women do other things in the real world but the majority of our representation in the media is not representative of that.” I said.

“You know, Jen, it’s really hard for men too.  We used to be the providers, the protectors and the breadwinners.  Our roles were clearly defined, but what is the definition now?  Women can do everything by themselves.  Even in dating, men don’t know what women want anymore.  What can a man do for you that you can’t do for yourself?  Men are in a state of crisis right now,” he said.

I sat staring at my Malbec and thinking about all the one-sided dialogues I’ve had with myself all these years about the topic.  I hadn’t thought about how difficult it must be to be man.  When I was confronted with the question: why do women need men anymore? My mind went straight to: why does the moon need the sun?  Why does the ying need its yang?  Why does the soil need its seeds?

I did a walking meditation years ago.  I asked for God/The Spirit/ Pachamama to teach me about the masculine and the feminine energies.  My senses sharpened; the sounds became crisper and the forest was ALIVE.  I saw a serpent: phallic and long, slithering in front of the hallow crevice of a tree and immediately I understood.  In nature, the serpents protect the feminine: the caves, the crevices and the shallow earth.  Males are built externally and women internally.  The internal: those caves that encompass you and provide shelter through the storms or the great wombspace we all used to inhabit.

In today’s world of challenging social dynamics between the sexes we need our men to understand and protect the sacred.  We need them to plant seeds and watch how they grow.  We need them to bear witness to our differences with respect while women learn to see them with awe and wonder.  Today, we need them to listen and support our new roles.  In turn, we will love and respect theirs.

The masculine and feminine isn’t just a matter of men and women.  All men carry feminine energy and all women carry masculine energy.  As a society we must learn to live with our constant duality.  A man can enter that intuitive introspective space in his mind and a woman can assert her strength sprung into constant activity.

The revolution is barely starting and our liberation exists in limbo ebbing and flowing from one day to the next.  Men don’t have to ONLY be the providers anymore.  Instead they can choose to be much more than the typical male script and fully come into their own as whole and complete human beings.

Feminism never was just something for women.  It is for everyone that wants true freedom from oppression.

I myself am grateful for all men: the one who raised me gently; the ones who I call when my intuition failed me and I’m in a bind; the ones I don’t need to explain myself to and the ones that show up in front of my house for a late night bike ride to get me out of my head just when I need it.

I love men

I love men.  I know I never talk about this except for the time when I wished I was a man, but I really truly love men.  

Feminism has nothing to do with men and everything to do with equality.  It’s much more of an egalitarian philosophy rather than a bashing of a particular sex.  I have many male friends that call themselves feminists.  Plus, I love men.  I talk about them all the time.   They are beautiful creatures.

Here are the top ten things I love about the men in my life:

1. They make me think and give me different perspectives
2. They make me laugh until I’m heaving and then make fun of me because I sound like I’m having an asthma attack.
3. They don’t sweat the small stuff and make sure I don’t either.
4. They call me to make sure I’ve checked my old car to see if it has enough oil.
5. They are supportive of my endeavors and try to help me both in my career and personally.
6. They are wonderful friends.  They really know how to listen and are sweet.
7. I’m blessed to have an amazing father and a great older brother that I know are there at the drop of a pin if I need something.
8. They keep it simple and don’t overcomplicate matters.
9. Talking business with them is fun.
10. They are just as dedicated to making the women in their life as successful as possible as I am.

So here's a thank you and I love you to all the amazing men in my life.

Infatuation or Aspiration?

I sat in my chair watching this man in action.  Confused and torn while observing his mannerisms, I was stricken by my ambivalence.  Did I want to be this man or did I simply just want him?

No, this is not the man..

Freud has often talked about the whole concept of penis envy but I had never really felt this way before.  I’ve always felt very comfortable, powerful and strong as a woman, but watching this man while he spoke to a small group made me wonder what it would be like to be him.

I fantasized about getting ready for work, buttoning my shirt, while staring at my reflection, deciding what color tie to wear: the red or the gold.  I thought about what it might be like to decide what my look was going to be: whether I’d sport a sexy stubble, clean cut shave or a manly beard.

When I was a little girl I would wake up every morning at 4:30 a.m. as my father’s alarm went off.  While he was getting ready I would crawl in bed with my mother and watch him as he put on a freshly pressed white shirt and sprayed on his cologne.  He would leave for work and I’d fall asleep in his place, the smell of cologne lingering in the room.

Fast forward twenty-one years later and I’m staring at this beautiful man wondering about his choice of cufflinks and what kind of underwear he prefers.  I thought about his morning routine, what his aftershave smells like, what washing his flat chest feels like, what thoughts swirl in his mind as he walks down the street…

It was more than a simple attraction.  I wanted to see everything through his eyes, I wanted to be in his body and feel what it’s like to sacrifice my breasts and womb space for an external life force I don’t possess.

Has anyone else ever felt this way about the opposite sex?