Posts Tagged ‘Spirituality’

Zeus

Sunday, June 19th, 2016

There have been so many changes in my spiritual path over the past two and a half years that sometimes I don’t even know where to start. I’ve wanted to journal out here for a while, but each time I sat to write it became clearer to me that I was obligated to tell another story first.

In late 2013/early 2014 the grove that I was a member of was focusing the work of our rituals on the study of the Major Arcana of the Tarot. Through the course of that schedule, The Emperor card fell to me. Through my study of the card and its symbolism, I had locked-in on Zeus as a deific personification of the card.

At the time, from everything I’d read, I came to see Zeus as an opportunistic bully. Manipulative and self-serving, with little regard for anyone else or the consequences of his actions. This makes sense considering his place in the pantheon – he doesn’t have to care, so why should he? When he does express what could be seen as affection it comes across more as favoritism. In this way, he reminds me a lot of a dictator.

This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for the Olympians. Much like Iraq seemed to function better with a dictator in power, perhaps the Olympic deities needed that kind of authoritarian control – but in my view, he imposed his power and control – and in return he received obedience, but not necessarily respect.

I’d been talking this through with friends and was given an interesting spin one day. I came up with “hmm, maybe he’s a bully?” and floated the idea. A trusted friend came back with “most bullies act out of insecurity” – which caused me to look at it from a different angle. What could Zeus be insecure about?

I was contending with a great deal at the time and felt “bullied” myself on a number of different fronts. Grasping for something within my control, I turned to wage war against Zeus. I tried to reconcile it, and somehow find compassion for him, but it just wasn’t coming.

Then as I was getting ready to go to a conference in March of 2014, I was walking through the apartment and my internal dialog spoke… “You’ve heard the legends, but do you know the truth?” I don’t understand how I knew it was Zeus calling to me. I stopped my packing and sat for a minute. Okay… you’re right. All I know is what’s been passed down – I don’t know any facts about you… just the stories. My war ended there. To quote Sun Tzu, “Know thy self, know thy enemy.” In that moment I no longer knew my enemy. (in retrospect I really didn’t know myself either, but that’s a tale for another time). In the peace of that moment Zeus spoke again – “you know what I was dealing with, could I have been anything else?”

Zeus was the King of the Olympians – surrounded by and ruling some very dysfunctional personalities. He could not govern by consensus – no one could with that crowd. He did the best he could with what he had.

Those two sentences from Zeus became great comfort for me in those following months.

Two days after He gave me those gifts, I was ‘unwelcomed’ from my grove, and (unbeknownst to me at the time) from my entire tradition. In the ensuing years, when I’ve been asked to recount the hows and whys I’ve been brutally honest both with myself and those asking. I’ve told the whole truth – including how I could have managed things much differently. Hindsight is always 20/20 – but given who and where I was back then, could I have been anything else? And to those who never bothered to ask, I’m comforted by the fact that they know the legends, but might never really know the truth.

In the past two and a half years, Zeus has been one of three deities who has stuck with me, counseled me, and protected me. My personal gnosis of Zeus is complex, but feels right. He interceded for me with a work thing earlier this month – one of the few times I’ve agreed to being okay with him working on my behalf. The next day, after things inexplicably fell together, I thanked him. Then I wondered – He does so much for me what can I possibly offer in return? The answer was immediate – I give him compassion and understanding. I don’t accept stories as truth and I try to understand what I can in context.

There can be more journal entries now. I needed to move from the past into the present. Thank you Zeus, I hope this pleases you.

Shadow Homework – October 21, 2014

Sunday, November 2nd, 2014

Read the following poem by Emily Dickinson slowly, first silently, then aloud. Copy out the last line in longhand. Ask yourself honestly how it is true for you. Which phrase of the poem strikes you the most? How does this book ask you “to rise”? What steps are you taking in the practices in this book that help you release your “royal” energy?

We never know how high we are
Till we are asked to rise
And then if we are true to plan
Our statures touch the skies—
The Heroism we recite
Would be the normal thing
Did not ourselves the Cubits warp
For fear to be a king

I think has been very true for me. Until the last year or so I never gave myself enough credit for anything – never allowed myself to dare to be “king”. I would always down-play myself, or worse, sabotage myself. It was always a deep-seated fear of success. But with each incitement to “rise”, it occurred to be how much I was underperforming. Not just my potential, but my desire to perform. Be this in work, in music, in relationships… It wasn’t so much that I was content, I just wasn’t introspective enough to take stock of where I was an recognize that it wasn’t truly where I wanted to be. Although – acknowledging my own wants and needs took a long time to come around to as well.

I think the line that speaks to me the most is:

The Heroism we recite
Would be the normal thing

We tend to tout our achievements – and those of others – when things are noteworthy. However, if we rose to our own potential, then those things we recite as noteworthy now would be commonplace. As we grow, so too grow the expectations of what we might achieve. The phrase “don’t rest on your laurels” feels synonymous here.

We activate our potential when we break out of our sheltering routines and when we let go of our rigid unexamined beliefs. What are these for you?

For me this has always been “ignorance is bliss”. I would shelter myself by fully acknowledging what I didn’t know. “Write a report that does [this]!” and I would simply reply that I didn’t yet have that skill set. This would diminish the expectations and compensate for my own (perceived and self-reinforced) inadequacy.

Then something amazing happened. About ten years ago it dawned on me that the moment I would say “I have no idea how to do this” I would be infused with energy. So much so that I wouldn’t rest until the challenge was conquered. I began to see my “deficiency” as a call to rise up and become proficient. This dovetailed well with “no one ever learned anything by being right all the time”. I think this is one of the things that gave me the confidence to go back to school. “I don’t know” became a tool, or a key – rather than a shield.

I’d always had a tendency to understate myself – it was easier – don’t draw any attention, don’t stand out, and don’t make waves. It was part of my overall psychology. These days it’s more about learning how to gently but effectively stand up and be acknowledged for what I can bring to a situation – and accepting what I can’t.

Look into [the Zodiac] further if it appeals to you. Find the meaning of each of the signs and present it to yourself as a challenge. Notice that each sign has a positive and a negative shadow side.

I found a common source on meanings for astrological signs from Astrology.com and used those as a source to distill short capsules of light/dark qualities of each sign. I can see this becoming a much bigger project over time. For now, this is just a taste.

  • Aries
    • Light: Leadership, pioneering spirit
    • Dark: More interested in the next challenge than finishing what they started. Hasty decisions
  • Taurus 
    • Light: Deliberate, sensual, loyal
    • Dark: Can be stubborn and get in their own way. Can be argumentative.
  • Gemini 
    • Light: Imaginative information sponges. Quick-thinking.
    • Dark: Adaptable to change to the point of indecision. Lack of follow-through.
  • Cancer 
    • Light: Nurturing, protecting.
    • Dark: Can be overly emotional and reclusive.
  • Leo 
    • Light: Ambitious, creative.
    • Dark: Can be too ambitious and take over where there rule is unwelcome.
  • Virgo 
    • Light: Attention to detail, practical.
    • Dark: Can over-think a situation.
  • Libra 
    • Light: Balance, communication, compromise
    • Dark: Might become gossipy and lazy. Might be too averse to confrontation.
  • Scorpio
    • Light: Curious, intuitive, commanding.
    • Dark: Can be vindictive and self-serving.
  • Sagittarius
    • Light: Free-spirited seekers, curious, philosophical.
    • Dark: Impatience, procrastination.
  • Capricorn
    • Light: Practical, hard-working, patient.
    • Dark: Egotistical, high expectations of others
  • Aquarius
    • Light: Philanthropical, friendly, inventive
    • Dark: Temperamental, eccentric.
  • Pieces
    • Light: Spiritual, fluid, compassionate
    • Dark: Melancholy, lethargy, could be too sensitive

Look at the moon tonight. Picture it in all its phases. Compare life to phases.

New

The new moon is dark and without form; much like the spirit of a child. It exists, but hasn’t yet been acted upon so that it can grow. If we look at the Sun as a teacher, then the moon hasn’t developed any knowledge or wisdom in this phase. It waits to be shown the light

Waxing Crescent

As we move to the waxing crescent, we begin to learn and react. In our own lives this is when we first begin to develop concepts of cause and effect, realizing there’s more to our world than just ourselves.

First Quarter

By the first quarter we’re finally moving toward thought. We have some concepts and we’re able to make use of the information we have but not quite enough to truly manifest ourselves.

Waxing Gibbous

To me, this feels like our late adolescence. We can shine our light to the world… we certainly don’t have all the answers, but what we reflect is bright enough to illuminate some of the world around us.

Full

We’ve arrived. Fully actualized and ready for anything – showing ourselves at the peak of our ability. We know this can’t last, but we savor these moments as much as we know how to.

Waning Gibbous

We’ve seen our peak – but are still present enough to leverage all we are with the wisdom of where we’ve been. We might not shine as brightly as we once did, but we’re still a force to be reckoned with.

Third Quarter

We’re starting to slow down. We know our best days are likely behind us, but we can still shine our light into corners that need to be illuminated. Our wisdom, and ability to convey it, are entwined now

Waning crescent

We’re tired. We had a good, long run – but it’s time to reflect on where we’ve been and what we’ve accomplished – and lend what energies we have left to whatever will come next.

Who Am I?

Tuesday, September 10th, 2013

In a conversation a few weeks ago, the phrase “aspect of yourself” floated my way. My brain decided to slip down that rabbit hole, and realized that if you focus on an aspect of yourself – doesn’t that presuppose that you know yourself and your aspects – at least some of them? It was at that moment that a lot of things started to fall together.

This extends from the cloak I discussed in my last post. We wear cloaks to cover or protect ourselves – but, intentionally or not, they can sometimes mask who we really are. Wear a cloak long enough, you forget how to be naked.

I’ve been wrestling with “who am I?” for a few weeks now. I poked at it, meditated on it, and even looked up my favorite philosophers to re-frame the question. It wasn’t until I was walking through town one night that the realization struck me. I am Nox.

Before I continue, it should be noted that this only seems to be news to me. A most-trusted soul pointed out to me, in the midst of hell last year, that I was “more like Nox [years ago] than now”. There was also a lot of “who are you, really??” going on in 2012. It seems I was more lost than I realized – or was willing to hear.

So I’m Nox. Not just from the ‘kink’ perspective – but Nox is a guise I created specifically to give myself permission to be me, to want what I want, and to be worthy of it. My therapist pointed out some weeks ago that in the BDSM construct, as Nox I have permission to ‘be’ and want without fear of reprisal. Without fear of abandonment.

Obviously, this all flows from “don’t upset your mother”. It seems everything does. In the aftermath of that, I created a cloak where I would not upset my mother. I would stifle my needs or wants (tricky when you’re three years old), be unobtrusive, conciliatory… My sister used to call me Switzerland because I would be neutral and unoffending in everything. This was before my nickname became “sorry” for my predilection for apologizing. Don’t offend, don’t inconvenience, take a back seat, don’t step up. Be invisible and you won’t upset anyone. No one will go away.

This demureness was the opposite of what being a boy in the late 60s/early 70s was. I never really had the chance to be “a boy”; the rough and tumble, learn how to assert yourself, the stereotypical, western, societal male. I went so far afield from it that I never really developed a sense of assertiveness that would enable me to want or fight for anything.

As I grew, this cloak followed me – whether in grade-school afternoons spent with an abusive aunt, or in the first (and excruciatingly long) relationship I had. It wasn’t until my 33rd birthday that I finally started to break free from that whole cycle. Leaving my mother, my aunt, and girlfriend behind – I finally tried to move into adolescence – with disastrous results. I was sexually immature and inexperienced – I did not know “how” to be male.

I always sensed this, but never really dared acknowledge it until the subject of gender polarity in ritual came up recently. It dawned on me that when there are male/female characters in the songs I’ve written, I always identified with the female lyrics. This dovetailed nicely with the “lesbian sheep” analogy that was applied to me some months ago. Google that one if you haven’t heard it before.

I’ve been soft and nurturing my whole life – it was how I built value in my cloak. I would rarely let anyone do anything for me – whether it be massaging my shoulders, paying for lunch, or being sexually intimate. Sadly, it was rooted deep in my brain from a very young age that women don’t want sex, so it was unfathomable that a partner would ever actually ‘want’ to be sexual with me. My relationship role was to be unobtrusive, don’t inconvenience anyone – don’t act unless specifically urged to.

Fast forward to last year, before my worlds crumbled, I was standing in the shower and got a cold chill on the back of my neck and the name Artemis was stamped in my brain. I never understood why, but took it as something to be mindful of. The virginal huntress. Sure – that seemed to fit.

But it was far deeper than I could have suspected.

I think this past weekend was the first time I’d attended rituals on consecutive days. One was our normal one, but another was one where Artemis and Apollo were being called. What was interesting was that Herne was involved in the first ritual this weekend. I’d never worked with Herne before – I’d become very familiar with Manannán, but Herne was new to me.

It turns out that last minute switch from Manannán to Herne was fortuitous. I had the opportunity to commune with Herne, to taste his energy and to become comfortable with him. I understood “male” in a different way than I had through Manannán. I knew Manannán, and valued his goblet of truth – but as a sea god, he was fluid. Herne was earth. Solid. This was new for me.

The next night, I thought I was meeting Artemis for the first time. It turns out though that she was always there – from my earliest days, hers was that energy that moved with me and protected me. She was my sister, my protectress.

Then something amazing happened.

Apollo put his hand on my shoulder, and I feel like a baton was passed. Artemis passed me to her brother to help me the rest of the way on my journey. Kali, Pele, and Brighid are all prominent – as they have needed to be. But Apollo nodded to Herne and I felt a coming of age – and a step toward gender clarity.

I am allowed to be a man.

There it is. There is the block I’ve had for 47 years. I’m not beyond it, but I know what it is. The work now is putting the pieces together.

I don’t want to lose my nurturing nature, I don’t want to stop being empathetic. I treasure the lessons learned from my Yin – but I need to explore my Yang. That could get very interesting.

Above all though, I want to immerse myself in the balance. I think that the trials of all of those years give me a unique perspective. If I can effectively blend the masculine and feminine parts of myself, I think I can really be someone I can be proud of!

… and the adventure continues.