My Pussycat Hat

The other night I was lying in bed and I thought, I want a pussycat hat. They are cute, and I like the little ears and the pink color. Ok, yes that is frivolous, silly and "girlish”, but that is one part of me. That is not the only part, I am also a strong and powerful woman and am not afraid to roar. Sometimes I meow, or purr too, and sometimes I am silent and just want to curl up on a blanket

or bask in the sun.

I am a woman in all her creative complexity and proud of it. I did not choose to march in the "women's" march on several fronts. I don't feel the same "protests" that many of these women feel, and practically speaking it would have been a lot. Instead I substitute-taught two yoga classes that morning so that another woman could march. So perhaps in my own way I was supporting women by supporting her.

I did feel a sense of disappointment and a tinge of sadness on the way to class that morning. I was listening to NPR and they were talking about the march, and mentioning how there were some divisions in the organization process. There were a group of women who were anti-abortion and wanted to be a part of the march but were banned. Sigh. Later I found out one of the organizers is a Palestinian Muslim woman who proudly wears her hijab (traditionally a sign of submission, not only to God, but also to men) and she is proposing Sharia law for all. She tweets: "Who cares if women do not have the right to drive, when they have ten weeks maternity leave"... I do.

As both a working women of off-hours which also allow me to be a stay at home mom, I can say even one day without my car when it is being serviced, feels unbearable. I like knowing I have the freedom to go and do. I like knowing I am not confined to my home or dependent on another to take me to the store or the gym, or anywhere else I might choose to go, should it spontaneously come to me. The question one might ask is, why not have both?

A yoga teacher of mine several years back once said casually over a meal, when the solution only has two choices, right, wrong, black or white, we can be sure that we are not thinking in God-like terms. Those were not his words exactly, but that was the idea. It struck me at the time and continues to stay with me. I think it is true, and tend to agree. God is love, a creator who creates out of love. His knowledge is that which passes all understanding. Anyone who has been madly in love may have experienced a tinge of that invincible sense when all things feel possible. Love by its very nature is complex and magical, not linear. When we find ourselves saying it must be this way, only this way, or that way, we have limited ourselves. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4: 13)

I don't agree with this woman, but I think it is fine for her to march and state her views. It seems things have gone askew. If it is a women's march it should be for ALL women period. Women are complex, diverse beings and they should be honored, period. Each individual has their own path and life which leads them day by day, moment by moment to the convictions they hold and the choices they make. Some are sensitive to the earth, the animals. Some will cry save the planet, save the animals, who have no voice. Others will say, save the unborn child, it has not a voice. Some will say I like a gentleman who holds the door, others will call it benevolent sexism and be offended that they are being treated as not able.

In my opinion women must stop being at battle with men, with themselves, with each other and the world. Can it not start with a simple idea: all women are a manifestation of the Divine feminine, all women deserve honor, regardless of the path they are on? Jesus for one understood this. “There is neither Jew nor Greek . . . there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3: 28)

That is my pussycat hat.

Dying to Be Wrong

We have all heard the expression "dying to be right". People literally do die to be right, or rather because they believe their system of belief, their ideology is indeed the right one, worth fighting for and in fact dying for. That feels extreme, but I think when examined closely it is not so extreme. We are not all brave soldiers willing to give our physical lives, but we are willing to sacrifice our souls. Who has not experienced that moment with a spouse, friend, parent, or colleague when we are one hundred percent convinced that our way is "the right way"? Maybe it's more efficient, more logical, or even conversely more creative, more beautiful. At the end of the day we are right and we know it, and we want to prove it. I think those moments become less about doing something "the right way" than they are about convincing the other of our own rightness. We lose sight of the fact that “There is none righteous, no, not one.” What’s important is “the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ.” (Romans 3: 10, 21).

Sometimes we may secretly wish harm, distress, or difficulty on another so that they will come to recognize how right we are. In the end we ARE willing to die, but not in a good way, and it is sad, very sad. In the end we create suffering both by wishing (yes even unconsciously) ill on another and also by being stuck and hardened by our own righteousness. Our stubborn, grasping self wants to hold on with all our might, our ego wants that empty pat on its forever-yearning-back.

We convince ourselves of how good we are, desperately justifying our falseness to our deeper truth. “I just want them to learn, it is for their own good. If they don't get it now they'll see when...” We go on and on. Somewhere we know, but we don't want to see the truth of our false righteousness. What we really should be yearning for is dying to be wrong. That sweet moment when we let go of our grasping, longing, justifying, fighting, and release. When we can flow freely like a rolling stream around the rocks and through the crevices. When something comes at us that is just a little too different than our way, but we are able to say: “Hmmm, that's interesting, unusual.” Jumping into the unknown with nothing to prove and everything to gain.

Maybe it will take longer or we will even have to do it again. With a moment of pause perhaps we can change our automatic judgment response of correctness, or rightness to one of acceptance. Maybe we could think something like, if it takes longer great more time with a friend. Allow our initial reaction to softly mold to something new. Create a masterpiece in the mind, not a war zone.

When we can change our grabbing into receiving we might possibly gain an unknown gift that will be revealed through the doing, and the letting go. What a blessing when we die to our hardness and find softness. When we replace stubbornness with willingness, understanding, and patience. What are we trying to hold onto anyway? A thought, an idea, suddenly it seems so silly, so intangible...certainly not worth hurting another or our own souls.

Spiritual Bulimia

'Tis the New Year, and many resolutions tend to revolve around food and health changes. Recently at the gym one could notice an unusual crowd. In the sauna I could not help but overhear two very big girls discussing their disgust with themselves for slipping so far off their diets -- "Eating like pigs. It is now time to detox”, they said. The one was informing the other about healthy alternatives and how they are easy to make and delicious too. She clearly had a certain knowledge as to wholesome eating verses empty calories or too many carbs. However, from the looks of her she was still struggling greatly with portion control.

Last summer we had a visit at my in-laws. My mother-in-law said something that struck me, and the sentiment stuck with me. The conversation was around the subject of communion. I do not remember her exact wording, but the idea was one of disdain for other churches that have communion weekly. At first I couldn't quite wrap my mind around why this would bother anyone, but after some time, I think I now grasp the essence of what she was saying, and why for her this was bothersome.

In my in-laws spiritual practice of Christianity, they only take communion once a month. It is a sacred ritual and it is a big deal. They always prepare for each Lord's Day (or Sunday) by bringing their hearts and minds off of earthly pursuits and making it a day of worship and rest. It is not a day of entertainment or shopping after church is over. When a communion Sunday is approaching the preparations are even more diligent. As they approach the sacred ritual, there is an extra keen sense of what the day will bring. It is a time to be sober and quiet in order to receive his gifts of blood and wine and truly embody the deep spiritual significance that this ritual brings with it.

The more I learn and read about rituals, the more my understanding of them shifts. The outward actions are really a mirror for an inner transformation. They can also be seen as a sort of spiritual Tai Chi. You go through the motions, but not like a mindless workout, but rather one with breath and focus and full awareness. The outward actions are done with care and attention for what they represent, then what they represent begins to transform the being who performs them, to a place of communion. It is not meant to be a mere task to be checked off a list, nor to take the place of an addiction in the sense of believing. It is the only way to connect and doing to appease the drive, the obsession. It is not to be motivated by a sensation that was once attained. It is a sacred honor, an act of worship, to be handled with care. I am beginning to see what my mother-in-law was bothered by.

In my family and extended family, I have experienced personally and seen a lot of bulimia or varying forms of eating disorders. One aunt who drinks barely black tea with lemon all day long, occasionally allows herself a yogurt at lunch and then binges at dinner. Some nights are reasonable, and others the hunger takes over and later is the complaining of being bloated, only to start the fast again first thing AM. Another used to run marathons on mustard sandwiches and cough drops, until a nutritionist set her on a better program. My brother was a model of health, a triathlete who ate grape nuts and wasa crackers, but occasionally he would overdo the ice cream and so would visit the bathroom for the purge. One could call it a family curse, a penchant for extreme and obsessive behaviors in regards to food – binging and purging.

I experienced a short bout of traditional bulimia with food as an adolescent. I wanted to look like the models’ bodies I saw in the magazines. This unhealthy eating cycle for me did not last too long. I was thirteen at the time and the household situation was particularly turbulent. Perhaps I was not diligent enough in my bulimia, or my binges were greater than my purges, but basically I did not begin to resemble the models in the magazines. I was still a rather short, very athletic and curvy young lady. I decided to stop one day, my inner self knowing it was not a good thing, and I did.

The body image issues persisted, and perhaps to a much lesser degree at certain vulnerable times still do. I did become quite thin at some point, but not from binging and purging – more from not eating much at all, meticulously counting and measuring calories and exercising (a lot – a whole, whole lot). I was a dancer now, and had the affinity for pale skin and protruding bones, although I do not think it could be categorized as true anorexia. I liked being this thin. I wanted to see bones and muscle, and I did and it felt good. I did not look in the mirror and think I was fat, but nonetheless, it was extreme in its nature and not a healthy nurturing approach to food and body image.

Yes, I have witnessed and participated in different degrees of "eating issues" along with my family. As I go through life I see how this same binge/purge, addictive/obsessive type behavior can manifest in many, many ways and areas. A relative of mine a few years back asked if I had any advice about her daughter who was currently struggling with bulimia. I was not sure exactly how to respond because as I mentioned earlier, I think my case with bulimia was a bit different and mostly short lived. But at the time I advised her to seek out Christ. I wondered subsequently if this felt like an empty response, that maybe she was looking for more practical tips? Today though I think my intuition was right, if understood properly. "Seek Christ and one WILL find" not just him, but the deep spiritual issues that cloud our very way to him. I truly believe that all problems or issues that one struggles with in their nature are spiritual. Perhaps one is hoarding, or stuffing because they have forgotten God's abundance and are living in a mindset of poverty, fear of not having enough, not being enough. Perhaps one is trying to be in "control", unable to trust that all is already perfectly in control and properly guided.

There are so, so very many possibilities, but in the end one truly has to seek within and find where their own fears, lacunas, insecurities exist, and then begin to replace these falsehoods with Truth. Then one's life which is being transformed on the inside will begin to reflect those changes in the outside world. The daily practice of seeking will not only reveal one’s inner state, but also the keys to what needs to shift and why. It may not happen in a day, or a week, or a year, but eventually these subtle shifts begin to manifest and transform our existence. One is being regenerated in his image, because he beholds the image we crave, and no substitution will suffice, nor fill the void.