Goddess feminism – Page 2 – Feminism and Religion

Initiation and Descent, part 2 by Terry Folks

Part 1 was posted yesterday, you can read it here.

Stage Nine – Reward (Seizing the Sword) – Healing the Mother/Daughter Split

Some contemporary versions of the Heroine’s Journey have the heroine or hero seizing the sword quite dramatically. She takes possession of the treasure ‘sword’ as knowledge, experience, or greater understanding. My reward was more subtle but deeply profound. It took Her awhile to help me understand but eventually I stopped fighting and leaned into Mother Mountain. When I was calmer, when I became still, stopped trying so hard … when I finally surrendered I was able to ask Her why.

Why Mother Mountain? Why COVID? Why now?

Her response was as clear as though She was speaking in my ear:

“It was the only way we could meet each other. Every step you have taken up to now has led you to this sacred moment.”

I wept.

My Pilgrimage to Crete – September 2023, Part 2 by Terry Folks

Part 1 was posted yesterday.

Stage Four – Mentor Appears

Joseph Campbell spoke of ‘mentors’ appearing to help the sojourner, and what Maureen Murdock called the gathering of allies. In my hybrid of these two archetypal journeys, there may be several mentors – human, power animals, divine guides or a combination. She could be a wise elder who helps the heroine prepare for the journey or gives her a gift for later use. In my case the wise elder was my 93 year old mom who became one of my mentors. When I expressed my excitement and fears, she said what she always says when I – one of her seven children – am facing a challenge: “Go get’em Tiger!” She also offered financial support so I could take time away from my psychotherapy practice.

Two other mentors showed up in what Carl Jung called my ‘active imagination’: Carol Christ and Marija Gimbutas. Both have transitioned so my active imagination conjured their support as divine intervention. I reread Carol’s reflections and teachings on the pilgrimage, and watched the videos she made as inspiration. I felt her invitation. I was ready to change.

My Pilgrimage to Crete – September 2023, Part 1 by Terry Folks

Carol Christ’s Legacy honored by Laura Shannon, and the Ariadne Institute

Adventure by Autumn Skye with permission of artist

When I teach the Heroine’s Journey in my Sophia Women’s Wisdom Group, I draw on Joseph Campbell’s idea of the mono-myth, an archetypal story that resonates with every human across time: The Hero’s Journey. I combine Campbell’s ideas with pieces of feminist Maureen Murdock’s heroine’s journey to recognize the unique pathway of the feminine. I call this my hybrid heroic journey. If you are not familiar with Maureen Murdock’s work, I invite you to see how she brought her feminist eye to Campbell’s iconic Hero’s Journey in her book The Heroine’s Journey: Woman’s Quest for Wholeness. After her conversation with Joseph Campbell six years prior to his transition, Murdock felt he missed “that the focus of female spiritual development was to heal the internal split between woman and her feminine nature” (p. 2). In my hybrid heroic journey, that split in the early stages is internalized negative masculinity. The rejection of our feminine nature may appear differently in each woman’s life but it is often characterized by treating ourselves how we imagine men perceive us.

My recent Pilgrimage to Crete was astonishing; my epiphany, gradual. As I share my adventure, imagine stages of your own heroine’s journey wherever you are in that cycle. I hope that by sharing this series, you will experience a real life example of Dion Fortune’s definition of magic: ‘The art of changing consciousness at will’. Starhawk, Truth or Dare, 1988.

My Goddess by Mary Gelfand

Birth of a Galaxy, by Willow Arlena, https://www.mysticlifedesign.com/

My Goddess is unconfined
–unbound
–unlimited
–unrestricted.

My Goddess exists beyond
–the images of Her created by men
–the words describing Her written by men
–the laws coercing Her, enacted by men.

Fear and Need in the Absence of Mother God, part 2 by Caryn MacGrandle

Yesterday’s part 1 post quoted from the book, The Malleus Maleficarum

Witches Well in Edinburgh, Scotland, …the Roman numerals for 1479 on one side and 1722 [years when witch persecution was most prominent]

The book wasn’t just a message for women but for all. The tenets that formed the backbone of colonial culture:

Paddle your own canoe.
Success comes with hard individual effort when you stay within the lines that we draw.
And if you fail? Well, that’s on you.
Maybe you will get another shot if you are lucky, work relentlessly and act as you should.
And never ever forget that your worth is defined by the number of 0’s in your bank account.

Why We Need to Bring Back God as a Woman, part 1 by Caryn MacGrandle

26,000 years ago, life was precarious and dangerous. And so the human race revered the Mother. Mother Earth, who provided food amidst scarcity, protection from the dangers of the wild and healthy babies who grew to adulthood.

The Goddess.

In her many forms.

Some of these Goddesses.

Venus of Willendorf. The artifact known as the Venus of Willendorf dates to between 24,000–22,000 B.C.E., making it one of the oldest and most famous surviving works of art.

Inanna’s Sisters, by Molly M. Remer

Sometimes I feel like my own Ninshubur.
I set up a lamentation in the street.
I call my own name,
beat the drum
to lead myself back home,
prepare the temple
for my own arrival.
I will not give up on myself,
will not abandon my own wholeness,
I refuse to sacrifice my Self.
I will not stay in the underworld forever.
We all need people in our lives who will say:
No, this will not do.
I’m coming after you.
I will help you to crawl back up,
back out, back through.
I will reach out to you.
I will boost you up.
I will rise with you into becoming.
You will not stay behind defeated
and alone so long as I,
your Ninshubur,
draw breath.
I will beat the drum for you.
I will call your name.
You are not alone.
Come back to me.
I see your power
and your strength.
I hear your longing.
Return,
return,
return.

I first met Inanna in the firelit darkness of a midwifery retreat in central Missouri. Toddler son at my breast, I watched, spellbound, as the charismatic, dark-haired midwife recounted the tale of Inanna’s descent into the underworld, through the seven gates we traveled, to the seat of our own wounding and our own medicine.

How Mary Magdalen Came into My Life: an excerpt, edited for brevity, from My Life as a Prayer: A Multifaith Memoir by Elizabeth Cunningham

(Author’s note: Mary Magdalen, or Magdalene, comes to people in many ways. To me, she came as an unconventional, fictional character. I worked hard to get the first century setting of her story as accurate as possible. Otherwise, I make no claim to historicity. I respect all the ways in which others know her.)

When I finished writing my novel Return of the Goddess in 1990, I thought I had nothing more to say. Yet, I sensed there was something—someone—missing.

An artist friend suggested I take up drawing or painting for a time—visual art being a form in which I had no experience, skill, and best of all, no ambition. I dabbled in paint and charcoal but soon reverted to magic markers, my childhood medium.

One day a line drawing in brown marker took shape. An ample woman sat naked at a kitchen table having a cup of coffee. The round clock on the wall read a little after three in the afternoon. (The same time of day I was born.) She told me her name was Madge.

The Legacy of the Goddess: Heroines, Warriors and Witches from World Mythology to Folktales and Fairy Tales by Rachel McCoppin

This is part 1 of a two part posing. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow.

In this blog post, I would like to take the opportunity to discuss my new book, entitled: The Legacy of the Goddess: Heroines, Warriors and Witches from World Mythology to Folktales and Fairy Tales. This book argues that hundreds of folktales and fairy tales from around the world have preserved elements related to goddess worship from the sacred myths of many ancient civilizations.

Powerful goddesses were worshipped in most global cultures for centuries, until, in many regions, episodes of diffusion, conquest, colonialism, etc. caused the worship of these goddesses to be revised, lessened, or in some cases eliminated. To “preserve at least part of the reverence of goddesses, as well as the memory of the powerful religious and social roles women once held as representatives of goddesses”, hundreds of folktales and fairy tales were created, “told, and retold, most often by women storytellers” to impart goddess ideology (McCoppin, 2023, p. 5). Thus, many folktales and fairy tales portray myriad examples of powerful female characters who portray important messages connected to the goddesses and sacred women of ancient mythology.

Spiritual Practices for Summer Flourishing by Molly Remer

The spiritual life need not be
divorced from the physical.
It is with our hands that we make magic
It is with our breaths that we offer prayers.
It is with our eyes that we see beauty.
It is with our hearts that we know love.
It is with our ears
that we hear birdsong and ballads.
It is with these bodies
that we reach out to touch the holy
every day.

This morning, I watched the baby woodpeckers. Still nestled safe within their tree they stab wildly at their brave parents who cautiously poke snacks into the trunk and then dive away again, narrowly evading the enthusiasm of their progeny. I peek at the baby phoebes too, heads nearly full-feathered, no more room for a parent in the nest against the wall of our house. They peer back at me, black eyes solemn, while the hummingbirds dodge and weave and battle it out between branches. I hear the thin and persistent cry of a broad-winged hawk from somewhere in the oaks just outside my vision. Summer is settling into the woods, though spring seems just barely to have arrived. The woods are becoming heavy and green and closing to exploration as the bugs and brambles stake their claim and exact their blood prices for entry. The blackberries are in bloom, wild and riotous, their white flowers open gratefully to both rain and sun. The wild raspberries have already begun to set their fruits, hard knobs of green clustered hopefully on each cane. The mulberries were brave enough to try again after frost crisped their efforts to black, now re-leafed, small green flowers and starts of berries once more emerge to hang with delicate promise next to their ruined brethren. As I finish writing my poem and offer my prayers, I look up to see a bald eagle making great wide circles above the house. The sky is clear and blue and the air is sweet and fresh and full of promise. I sit, as I do, in this cocoon of green, my heart wide, my mind soothed, and my soul replenished by the magic of place and all it manages to hold and teach each day.