Women’s Voices – Page 56 – Feminism and Religion

What You Learn When Your Voice Shakes by Marisa Goudy

As I heard my voice rising over the half-eaten breakfast, something inside me began to splinter.

“We cannot effectively ‘open lines of communication’ with racists and fascists!” I exclaimed. It was followed by an impassioned speech (perhaps you’d call it a tirade) fueled by news of migrant families separated, my own helplessness, and other people’s tweets.

My family didn’t greet me with stunned silence. They’ve watched me get worked up over politics since well before I could vote. All of us are accustomed to the pervasive, ever-escalating outrage that’s been part of the new normal for the last year and a half. And when one of us gets loud (ok, it’s always me), nobody tends to get offended.

But, as I said, something cracked within me when I heard the brittle desperation in my own tone.

When I stopped talking, I heard the echo of my own voice

I know this part of me, the part whose words rise above everyone else’s. It’s harsh, frantic, and shadowed. It’s driven by disconnection, adrenaline, and fear.

This is the part of me that only knows how to react and exclaim, not how to consider and respond.

This is the part of me that tells you to bury your thoughts and prayers ‘til the end of the battle.

This is the part of me that loses track of personal, grounded truth in order to parrot collective indignation.

This is the part of me that forgets every spiritual truth and every bit of healing wisdom I’ve gained.

This is the part of me that retreats and leaves her weapons to rust, once again exhausted from all that seemingly fruitless fighting.

This is not the part of me that is truly empowered to change the world. This is not the part of me that is confident she’s contributing to the work of peace, justice, or divinity. This is not the part of me that is teaching my daughters how to create a livable, equitable society they want to live in.

That said, I forgive her. After all, she’s also the part of me that’s trying.

Yes, we need to raise our voices.
The passion often makes our voices crack.
Sometimes, those cracks show us our own fragility, fault lines, and beautiful sacred edges.

…Tomorrow, Part Two…

Marisa Goudy is a story healer and writing coach with a passion for everyday creative magic. Currently, she’s working on a book project called Sovereignty Lessons which invites women to “free the princess, crown the queen, and embrace the wise woman.” Marisa is fascinated by the Irish Sovereignty Goddess and how her many expressions in myth and contemporary understanding can guide us through 21st century life through life. A graduate of Boston College’s Irish Studies program and recipient of an MA in Anglo-Irish Literature and Drama from University College Dublin, Marisa lives with her husband and daughters in New York’s Hudson Valley. Visit her website to sign up for the free community writing practices sessions she holds regularly and for the #7MagicWords challenges that she offers at the turn of each season.

A Curious Blessing by Natalie Weaver

A few years back, I turned forty years old. On the cusp of this landmark birthday, I wrote about the stigma of so-called midlife crises. I resisted the idea that changes associated with midlife should be mocked, when indeed many of those changes actually represent something like birth itself. I have come to think, however, that I was perhaps naïve in my wild embrace of midlife self-birthing. I still believe what I said before, basically, which was that midlife occasions opportunity for self-knowledge in a way that is largely inaccessible to babies, children, adolescents, and novice adults. What I could not have known a few years back is how much it costs to answer the waking self’s summons.

In the years since I first started thinking about myself as a person in midlife, I have experienced a trifecta of sweeping changes in work, family, and health. My sense of self has been destabilized, and, even more, what I value has changed. In ways, I do not recognize myself, while in others, I do not recognize the girl in the photographs around my house. It seems like she was always hiding beneath her Mona Lisa smile the woman that would show up in a few decades. All these disillusionments! All these decisions! All this stuff in my kitchen and basement! Continue reading “A Curious Blessing by Natalie Weaver”

Women Can Change the World by Judith Shaw

These are dark days for those of us who believe in democracy, social justice, environmental stewardship/protection, and connectivity. A rise in authoritarian rulers – from the U.S. to pockets of Europe to Turkey and beyond – are threatening the values upon which democracies are founded.

Continue reading “Women Can Change the World by Judith Shaw”

Knowing my Voice through Writing by Elise M. Edwards

Over the summer, I’ve been writing more than I do during the traditional academic year when other tasks consume the bulk of my workday. I have spent more time experiencing the joy of creative discovery and production, but I’ve also had more time confronting the difficulties of creative work as I’ve wrestled with some of its unique challenges. One of those challenges has been to refine my academic writing voice. I’ve approaches the challenge of developing my voice as both a spiritual and feminist practice and this has helped me find confidence in my work.

Continue reading “Knowing my Voice through Writing by Elise M. Edwards”

The Red Dress by Vibha Shetiya

Vibha It was my twelfth birthday and I was in New York vacationing with my parents and brother. New York was a world away from the sleepy town of Luanshya, Zambia where I was from (and which I loved). The noise, the lights, the gigantic stores, and oh, the people. So many of them! My heart could barely contain the excitement.

It was one of these stores that had coaxed out my blossoming womanhood. I had spotted the perfect outfit at Macy’s. It was a red dress that fell slightly below my knees, delicate flower patterns adding that extra touch to the femininity I was ready to embrace. Although Luanshya couldn’t compete with the thrill of the Big Apple, I was now ready to embark upon my own exciting journey towards womanhood. And, I would take a little bit of New York back with me. Continue reading “The Red Dress by Vibha Shetiya”

Toil and Trouble (Part 4) by Barbara Ardinger

Read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

When the Amazons land in the capital city, they find themselves standing on the wide lawn in front of the Golden Tower in which El Presidente lives and rules. And look—El Presidente is still talking. Not having noticed the disappearance of twenty-seven princess, he’s still strutting, still emphatically gesturing, still addressing the fifty-four handsome, charming princes, who make up what he considers to be his people. (His fan club?)

Hippolyta, the Queen of the Amazons, adjusts her armor and walks across the sidewalk into the empty street. Her warriors follow her. “Now what?” she asks the air around her.

They hear a voice. “Greetings, Sisters! And be welcome! We haven’t met in many years. I’m glad to see you again.” Hippolyta looks a bit confused. “Don’t you remember Brunhilda?” the voice asks. Continue reading “Toil and Trouble (Part 4) by Barbara Ardinger”

Querying in the Context of Religion and Science by Sara Wright

How do we respect materialistic/mechanistic science – the myth of our time – when it continues to use non-human sentient beings for it’s own gain?

How do we respect religions for the harm or damage that these beliefs may cause for animals, plants and people who live on the Earth?

These are important questions, and for me the two are intimately related. Science and religion are two lenses humans use to perceive the world. Continue reading “Querying in the Context of Religion and Science by Sara Wright”

Toil and Trouble (Part 3) by Barbara Ardinger

Continued from Part 2

The magical school bus, carrying twenty-seven young women, drives across two or three states almost as quickly as the magic carpet flew a few days ago. The bus seems to fly, guided by Bunbury and Icarus as GPS and guards and Kahlil riding on the bus driver’s shoulder (well, not always; the driver keeps shrugging the heavy raven off, so Kahlil finally perches on the back of the first seat) and giving directions. (How the GPS ravens communicate with him is not to be disclosed.)

“So whaddaya think the magic’s for?” Kahlil asks the driver. “We’re guardin’ these here girls. Takin’ ’em somewheres safe.”

All the driver can do is keep driving. When the bus and its precious passengers arrive at the witch’s farm and the girls descend, everyone can see that the finery they’d been wearing to sit in El Presidente’s audience is no longer fine. Their silks and satins have turned into ragged T-shirts and crepe paper. Their priceless jewelry is now colored plastic straws strung together with string. Their exquisite hairdos are now lank and limp. And soon there are loud cries from the witch and her friends—these girls have black eyes and bruises all over their bodies. Some of them are missing chunks of hair or their front teeth. They are all barefoot, and their feet are filthy. And these twenty-seven former princesses—were they ever genuine princesses?—are scared. Continue reading “Toil and Trouble (Part 3) by Barbara Ardinger”

An Open Letter to Mom by Natalie Weaver

Dear Mom,

I want to take this opportunity to tell you I have learned so much from you over these years that I have been privileged to call you “mom.” I watch you, as you get older, as I also get older, and I continue to learn from you. You are always telling me that a person cannot know something truly until they get there; that every decade of life is different; and that life becomes, in the end-game, a process of letting go. I see you, and I know by watching you that this is true.

I remembered you today, from when I was just a child, getting ready to go out for the evening with Dad. You were spraying your hair into an impressive beehive, pulling on stockings, and fragrancing your wrists with Fabergé cologne. You were beautiful then, and you taught me that life should be beautiful, our home should be a place of refuge, and every day was worth celebrating. You used to sing about loving your home, and you maintained it so elegantly. It was lovely to be your child in that home. Thank you. Continue reading “An Open Letter to Mom by Natalie Weaver”

Creating Women’s Circles that Heal and Enrich Our Lives by Anne Yeomans and the Women’s Well

From 1994 until 2012, the Women’s Well, based in Concord, Massachusetts, offered thousands of women the opportunity to participate in women’s circles of all kinds. In the first and second parts of this series, Anne Yeomans, a co-founder of the Women’s Well, and others who co-created the Women’s Well, shared about their experiences with the power and wisdom of the circle and the use of altars and ritual. (Part I and Part II). This third part, explains the guidelines that the Women’s Well developed for their circles. This post is adapted from the Women’s Well website at www.womenswell.org.

We often used the guidelines in our circles. Sometimes the facilitator or holder of the circle would speak of them and then place them around the circle on printed cards, to remind us of the quality of listening and speaking that we were trying to invite in.

These guidelines were originally drawn from the work of Tom Yeomans who developed a way of working in groups, called the Corona Process. It was an approach to group dialogue that came to him in a dream the night after attending a meeting with the great physicist David Bohn, who at the end of his life became interested in dialogue and world peace. Continue reading “Creating Women’s Circles that Heal and Enrich Our Lives by Anne Yeomans and the Women’s Well”