General – Page 30 – Feminism and Religion

The Wave: Poems from Hurricane Helene by Annelinde Metzner

For 37 years, I have resided with awe and delight in the Appalachian Mountains near Asheville, North Carolina. With gratitude for the palpable strength and ageless beauty of the great mountains down to the tiniest ephemeral flowers, I have poured out poetry and music in honor of Her and my life here. In one day (or three, including the days of rain leading up,) Her pristine beauty and the homes and lives of thousands were destroyed by the violent winds and rain of Hurricane Helene. I was dropped into a deep well of grief, which I still experience to this day. But something very ancient, basic and fundamental pushed me to write poems, astounded as I was by the events and human interactions around me. I hope these poems give you some sense of the experience.

Re-claiming Friday the 13th and Other Tidbits by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

I am struck by how language affects our thoughts, values and even our actions. One standout for me is Friday the 13^thwhich is a day accused of being cursed and holding bad luck in modern beliefs. There is even a series of horror films created in the date’s honor. But why has this date been declared so negative? Like so much, the answer is that it is a suppression of women and our strength. Although I have heard different explanations for its meaning, my favorite is this; there are 13 moons in a solar year. That means that a woman will menstruate 13 times in that solar year. Thirteen is a symbol of women’s power. And Friday? Friday is the only day of the week named for a Goddess. In English it is Freya’s day named in honor of the Norse Goddess of love. In Spanish it is viernes, in French vendredi, both named for Freya’s counterpart Venus. I present to you that this makes it an extremely powerful day. Perhaps a horror for misogynists but for we women a day to celebrate.

I have also been thinking about the roots of the word “history” – his story. Many in feminist communities, including here at FAR, counter it with “herstory” – her story. But truly our past is not broken up into genders for the arc of the past affects us all, perhaps differently but all of us nevertheless. We all breathe the same air, live under a culture’s laws, etc. … Here are some names I have been playing around with as replacements: Ancestorstory. Ourstory. Hustory.

Resistance Checklist: Do It Loud. Do It Quiet by Karen Tate

Despite what you’re hearing out there, because it’s outdated information just being repeated in the echo chamber, Trump did not win by a landslide. He has no legitimate mandate. As of this writing one percentage point of the population separates how many votes each candidate got in this election and counting has not finished.

Many of us might still be recovering from the election disappointment and we’re trying to find our way forward. Consider this:

“Many of us have been brought up on stories of praying to God the Father to save us, waiting for our prince to come, submitting to the greater wisdom of our husband or priest to guide us. We need to move from this way of being, into our own agency. But we must also recognise that we cannot do it all, nor do it alone, in the martyr mother myth so many of us have learned to embody.
This is not the time for being nice, biting our tongues or not rocking the boat. And yet these are also not times for making enemies or picking fights. Can we find other ways of engaging and challenging, visioning and contributing to transformation? What might these look like?” From Weaving Our Way Beyond Patriarchy – a compendium of over 80 women’s voices, launching today exclusively from Womancraft Publishing. com

The Story of Changing Woman, part 2 by Sara Wright

Part 1 was posted December 7th. You can read it here.

Commentary:

I love this story because it demonstrates the evolutionary and eternal nature of Woman; her intimate relationship to Nature, her ability to give birth, to mother, to let go, her ability to endure, her need for animals and plants as companions and her willingness to stand her ground until she is able to get what she needs. Changing Woman matures from a passive figure who is acted upon by the forces of Nature into a self-directed female power who knows what she wants, and one who finds peace in choosing relationships with animals, plants and humans on her own terms.

Initially, Changing Woman is impregnated by the wind – the power of the spirit moving across the land – and not through sexual intercourse. Spirit and the Body of the Earth are the two equally creative aspects involved in her birth. The same holds true for her children, who are male, but conceived and birthed in a similar manner without the need for male insemination (no room for Patriarchy to enter here), suggesting to me that all three are parts of one spiritual/bodily whole that cannot be separated. As creative principles (beyond gender stereotypes) they work together as a triad to rid the world of monsters, to make the Navajo world a safe place, and to secure the matrilineal line. According to Navajo mythology securing the matrilineal line is primarily how Changing Woman saves the world.

Legacy of Carol P. Christ: LOVING LIFE*

This post was originally published on June 11th, 2012

My religious views have changed over time, but the spirituality I learned from my grandmothers has remained constant. I have been Protestant, Catholic, a lover of Judaism, an admirer of Christian Science, and a Goddess feminist. I have always loved life.

I was born in Huntington Hospital just before Christmas in 1945 and brought to my grandmother’s home on Old Ranch Road in Arcadia, California. Peacocks from the adjacent Los Angeles County Arboretum screeched on the roof. There was another baby in the house, my cousin Dee, born a few months earlier. My mother and her sister were living with their mother. The war was over, and they were anticipating the return of their husbands from the Pacific Front. My earliest memory, recovered during healing energy work, is visual and visceral. I am lying crossways in a crib next to the other baby. There is a soft breeze. The other baby is kicking its legs, and I am trying to do the same. I look up and see three faces looking down at us. Although the faces are blurry in the vision I see, I feel them as female and loving. I got off to a good start. Continue reading “Legacy of Carol P. Christ: LOVING LIFE*”

Bo: On Passing Over.

On August 12, 2018, I announced that I would begin my feminist reflections on Torah portions. I have seven left, but the timing of them are all in the beginning months of the year. This means, that the following seven posts about the parshot will not be aligned with the actual calendar dates in which they are read, especially since I only post once a month. But, in each post, I will note when they will be read next (in 2025). I hope that is not too much of a bother for the reader as I complete this project.

The parshah for Feburary 1, 2025 is Bo. It covers the final three plagues (locusts, darkness, and death of the firstborn males), the instructions for Pesach (Passover), and the beginning of the flight out of Egypt. The parshah makes two mentions of women. First, Moses includes the daughters of Israel among those who will leave Egypt (10:19). This mention comes in a list of opposites: young and old, sons and daughters, and (what I assume to have been considered opposites at the time) flocks and cattle. To me, this stylistic set-up signals that the entirety of the Israelite community would leave Egypt – a combination of seeming opposites thus represent the whole (that would be an interesting post for another time!). The second mention of women is in verse 11:2; men and women will ‘borrow’ gold and silver items from their (Egyptian) friends. This borrowing allows them to later leave Egypt with the items and thus rob Egypt of its riches (13:35). I do not find this necessarily all that interesting except to note that it helps to tell the story of how an oppressed, enslaved people had enough gold to build a golden calf (Ki Tisa), Exodus 32:2-3.

The Story of Changing Woman, part 1 by Sara Wright

Moderator’s comment: Sara wrote this in April, 2019. It has even more resonance today.

Changing Woman – who grows old and then young again. Navajo Sand Painting.

I want to begin by recounting the story of how Changing Woman came to be and why she was so important to Navajo mythology. In these dark and tumultuous times I think Changing Woman’s story has a deep resonance for all of humanity. We seem to have forgotten who we are and are in desperate need of guidance that will help shift our current paradigm.

The Navajo word Diné means the People (every Indigenous group defines its inhabitants by using the same word in their own language).

Kamala Gave us a Tremendous Gift by Karen Tate

So I’m going to assume my readers don’t think meditation is a gateway for the devil to enter our minds and it’s not too woke. I mean, it’s a pretty mainstream practice these days going way back. Meditation originated in India, a very long time ago. According to the Live and Dare website, the oldest documented evidence of the practice of meditation are wall arts in the Indian subcontinent from approximately 5,000 to 3,500 BCE, showing people seated in meditative postures with half-closed eyes. In fact today it’s a recommended self help tool and who among us didn’t need some self help after November 5?

So, I was doing a guided meditation and this figure comes toward me and hands me a box with a key inside but the meditation ended without my knowing what the key symbolized. Then a few days later I was in another meditation circle and that box and key reappeared, only this time I got the message. The key was certainty. The key reminded me of a period in my life, some of my darkest days, when the road ahead was not clear, everything I’d planned for my life seemed gone and I had every reason to despair. I felt those feelings again as I touched the key in the meditation, but I also felt that glimmer of certainty I had back then that if I just kept making my famous lists, putting one foot in front of the other, following my logic, everything would work out and in the end, it did. Actually, in the end, there were even unexpected gifts in the troubles. Call it my Higher Self, my Soul, God, Goddess, my intuition – whatever – I was being reminded in those guided meditations of my ability to persevere. Of my resilience. That good things are ahead and there are gifts in the suffering and challenges if we are willing to see them.

MOTHER OAK by Dale Allen

We sat on the in the leaves, my daughter and I, in the warm autumn sun under the Great Mother Oak. Here and there fallen leaves danced lightly in the breeze. It felt good to be directly connected to the ground, bent knees and bare feet on the land. We leaned back and looked up at the tree in all her glory. She was still filled with yellow green leaves… her canopy so high that from up there, she can “see” the other neighborhood trees with many years like she has.

She has been here in this place since the end of the 1700s or the beginning of the 1800s. She was here with the first European settlers of this place. Her mother had been here before that, with the last generations of the people who were of this land for 15,000 years or more: the Paugussett People. We could feel this history. We could feel the tree’s mother. And then, from beneath the ground where their energy remains steady, we heard the voice of the Paugussett. They thanked us for acknowledging their presence. They said that they can feel our profound love for this place where we live, here in Black Rock, Connecticut… our love for the trees, the leaves, the flowers, the osprey, the red tail hawks, the fox, the squirrels, the rabbits, the insects, the shore, the waters of coastal Connecticut (Long Island Sound), the shells, the sand, the sparkles, the historical homes, the families, the new babies. We love this land. We love our home. And the Paugussett saw this love. The Mother Oak saw this love.

Morning Prayer For December by Sara Wright

Walk lightly
pay keen attention…
practice gratitude
but not at the expense
of truth
take sparingly
share

an Underground Web
writes the Story
but my roots
belong to earth
at the crossroad –
I choose
‘both and’

Listen to
feathered voices
keep breathing deep
into the forest floor
feel that luminous Light
hidden beneath my feet
Balance fear and pain
with turkey flight.