It’s all going to end badly

Jun 20, 2016 | Sacred Stories, Spirituality, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

A few weeks ago, while talking to my therapist, I mentioned my ongoing and haunting hunch that the archetype of the Prophet is mine to live into and fulfill: one who says what must be said, who speaks the truth, who proclaims what others don’t or won’t. (I’ve written before about how I actually think this archetype is
true for all women.) Here’s what he said to me:

“It’s all going to end badly!”

“And what do you-of-all-people know about the stories of the prophets, Ronna?!? Right! They get dragged through excrement and tortured with hot coals and lay naked in the streets and sometimes are even killed! So, if that’s a given, then you may as well say what the hell you have to say, because there’s no happy ending! Get on with it!”

(I love this guy!)

This may sound depressing to you – and I’ll admit, on my worst days, it sounds that way to me, too. But it also offers me profound freedom! If it’s all going to end badly anyway, then it really doesn’t matter. If all my labor and effort and toiling and work will, ultimately, be misunderstood and potentially even maligned, then why not go for it?!?

I suppose I can try to forego this ending, circumvent it somehow – or at least attempt such. I can morph myself into something or someone other than who I am in order to be more acceptable, tame, and market-savvy. I can blog and write and speak about things far less divisive and derisive. I can leave spirituality totally off the table. I can eliminate the word “God” from my vocabulary.

Yep. I could do all of this (and so could you: just change the words so they apply), but then I wouldn’t be doing what I do (nor would you). And that seems even more problematic than a less-than stellar ending.

Still too depressing? OK. Here’s some redemption.

As my therapist and I continued to talk he said,

“Seriously, Ronna. Are there any stories of prophets that don’t end badly? I don’t actually know…but you do. Tell me, p-l-e-a-s-e, if there is any other outcome!”

And here is what I said: “Actually, there is one story of a prophet that doesn’t end badly. And interestingly, it’s the story of a woman.” As soon as I spoke those words, the two of us stared at each other and then both, in our own ways, said, “Well, OK then!” and laughed.

Since that conversation I’ve done a bit of homework. There are actually 10 women in the Bible who are named as prophets and nothing bad happens to any of them! So, new approach:

It’s NOT going to end badly!

This creates just as much freedom as its negative counterpart! If no matter what I say or do – in speaking the truth and telling the truth and being committed to the truth – it is not going to result in a horrific or brutal end, then I may as well say and do what I’m here to say and do (and you, as well)!

Here’s the bottom line:

It really doesn’t matter how things are going to end – whether badly or well. What matters is that I stay the course, stay committed to that which I believe (in), stay focused on that know-that-I-know-that-I-know voice within, stay on track, and just stay, period. (You, too.)

And all the while holding this as truth: …whether by conscious choice or circumstantial demand, women inherently and instinctively are prophets. We inherently and instinctively see and know truth – deep in our bones. We don’t want to incur the risk of speaking truth and we must. We don’t want to bear the cost or harm of saying what others don’t want to hear and we can’t not. We’re caught between the proverbial rock and hard place.

Clearly, we are prophets. And we are in good company. 

The ending doesn’t matter one bit. The story we’re telling and living does.

May it be so.

The New Colossus

Jun 15, 2016 | Women's Voice & Power, Writing

By Tanya Geisler

 

For the last two years, I’ve been writing with a group of amazing women writers. Each week we show up with our words and we witness each other’s voices speaking our joys, our challenges, our grief and our delight.

On yesterday’s call, Tanya shared this piece of writing. And it was so powerful and moved us all so deeply, that we decided we each wanted to share her words on our walls, on our blogs. We wanted to be Georgina to her Emma…

It is my strongest encouragement and deepest hope that you read Tanya’s words. 3 reasons (at least): 1) It is beautiful, powerful, and deserves to be heard. 2) It is written by a woman I advocate for and love. 3) You need to hear what she has to say.

The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, the tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
~ Emma Lazarus

You remember these words?

Lazarus wrote this sonnet to raise money for the construction of the pedestal upon which the Statue of Liberty would stand. It was read as part of an exhibit to great acclaim, but was promptly forgotten and wasn’t included in the opening of the statue in 1886. It wasn’t included on the pedestal, even. It just was…absent.

She died a year later.

Can you feel that? Can you feel the pain of something written that was celebrated in a
moment, known then forgotten. Looked over. Looked past.

Vital and alive. Then insignificant and abandoned. Seen then unseen.

But there is more, of course, for how else would we know this famous sonnet?

Because a woman named Georgina advocated on the poem’s behalf. On Emma’s behalf. On behalf of all that the statue could come to represent, should the sonnet be re-remembered. She called in favours, lobbied hard and worked tirelessly to have the meaning mean something.

In 1903, Georgina succeeded, and a plaque bearing Emma’s words was created and
installed in the pedestal.

It was then that the Statue of Liberty stood for something. On something. What was
conceived as a French token of admiration for the American way of life became a symbol of hope and welcome for weary refugees in fourteen scant lines.

Fourteen scant lines upon which American ideals rest.

The very ideals that are being gunned down in nightclubs. That are being turned inside out and spat back with vitriol and ignorance and arrogance from the podium.

These words of a woman, written for a woman, and upheld by a woman, are once again being appropriated at best and at worst, ignored. Shouted over. Seen but unseen. Heard but unheard.

They’re trying to tear her down. They’re trying to gag her silent lips. They’re trying to wall her up. They’re trying to keep them out. They’re trying to kill them off. They’re ruining everything.

Everything.

Everything that is good and holy and kind and decent and beautiful and possible and
hopeful and right and sacred.

Will we continue to let them? Will we continue to stand with mild eyes observing the chaotic tempest around us?

We were born knowing what is right. And then, we unsee and forget. Until we re-remember what we know. Until we re-remember that we are mighty.

And it’s up to us, you know. We must speak the words of her silent lips. I will be Georgina to your Emma. Let’s lift the lamp and shine the light. Let’s do this. Let’s stand for something. On something. Something colossal. Something like everything.

What a Healed Woman Sounds Like

Oct 5, 2015 | Sacred Stories, Women's Voice & Power

Once upon a time there was a woman who had suffered for twelve years with constant bleeding. She had been treated by many a doctor, spending everything she had to pay them over the years, but never getting better. In fact, she had gotten worse. And so when she heard about the Healer, she knew she had to hope just one more time. She found him in the crowd, came up behind him, and touched his robe. For she thought to herself, “If I can just touch his robe, I will be healed.” Immediately her bleeding stopped, and she could feel that she had been healed of her terrible condition. Immediately the Healer realized that power had gone out from him, so he turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my robe?” His disciples said to him, “Look at this crowd pressing around you. How can you ask, ‘Who touched me?’” But he kept on looking around to see who had done it. Then the frightened woman, trembling at the realization of what had happened to her, came and fell to her knees in front of him and told him what she had done. And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.” (Mark 5:25-34)

The voice of a healed woman sounds a little something like this:

“You live so much of your life at varying levels of weakness. Not quite yourself. Not quite up to par. Not quite 100%. Not quite all-in. Making matters worse, you feel just on the outside, just on the edge, just on the margins. And you wait for someone else to invite you in. The invitation is yours to both extend and accept.

“You are the one who can offer yourself healing. You are the one who can offer yourself worth. You are the one who can move from not quite and just about to completely whole and all in.

“Push your way to the healing you long for. Do not listen to the crowd, the cacophony, the voices within and without. Do not pay attention to those who shame you, who will not look you in the eye, whose feet are more familiar than faces as you’ve been bent in pain, hindered in movement, not allowed in.

“Keep moving forward, knowing what you know, trusting what you feel, holding fast to your belief that healing awaits you, that wholeness is yours, that just one touch will enable this to be so.

“And when you reach out to grab for what is, by right, yours to have, do not shirk back. Stand and face your healer and healing eye-to-eye. Name what you have done. Acknowledge what you have believed. Stand. Stand. Stand.

“It’s not about the power another has to heal you. It’s about the faith you have to seek the healing you deserve. It’s not about the authority or granting another gives to you. It’s about the sheer determination and will you have to seek it for yourself.

You are the one with the power. You are the one with the will to push through. You are the one with the strength to persevere. You are the one with the touch that heals. You are the one that turns the very heart of the Divine with your plea, your will, your longing, your deserving, your determination, your strength, your desire.

“Yes, your desire. Just like mine. And ours, just like Eve’s. Of course.

“She reached for the fruit – her desire compelling her to trust that something more awaited her, that limits did not serve, that eyes opened were better than those closed. And like her, I did the same – my desire compelling me to trust that something more awaited me, that limits did not serve, that a body healed was better than one broken.

“Now you: reach for what you desire, trust that more awaits you, believe that limits do not serve, open your eyes, let your body lead you, and grab hold of all that will usher you into new worlds, new strength, new realms.

“What crowd of naysayers must you fight your way through to get to all you deserve and desire? What voices do you need to silence to leave the margins, enter the fray, and pursue strength? What limits do you need to surpass to stand tall, strong, healed, and whole? What crowds withhold? What rules bind? What dis-ease sickens? What hemorrhaging weakens? What despair consumes? What faith sustains and compels?

“And this question – the one that matters most: What healing do you desire?

“I already know. Wholeness and strength. The freedom to live, move, and be in expansive, miraculous ways. Causing crowds to part, skies to open, and angels to sing. An expression of sheer, raw faith, your faith in yourself, that causes the Divine Itself to stop in its tracks.

“All of this is already yours.”

May it be so.

Sometimes the best choice is to RUN!

Aug 22, 2015 | Sacred Stories, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

It is excruciating to be the victim of someone’s scorn, passive-aggressive behavior, or blatant harm. I’ve heard so many of these stories over the years. In the media. In the workplace. In families. In marriages. In churches. In friendships. (I’m hardly immune.)

There’s a voice within that tells us to run, to flee, to get the heck out of dodge. Instead, we stay – silent, enduring, keeping a stiff upper lip; we refuse to acknowledge just how profoundly this impacts our accurate and honest sense of self, how we sell our very soul.

So, run!

I don’t necessarily mean this literally (though sometimes that’s exactly the right thing to do). I do necessarily mean that we are wise-wise-wise to listen to our brilliance within that says “enough,” that stands up, that knows to walk-if-not-run away – even if only emotionally and energetically – from places and persons that don’t serve us, don’t honor all we offer, don’t recognize all of who we are.

So, run!

What would it cost you? What risks would ensue? What consequences would straggle along after you, threatening to drag you down with them? (I’m hardly immune.)

No matter how high those costs, vast those risks, or massive those consequences, you still deserve to run. I understand that you very well may choose not to. (I’m hardly immune.) But it matters that you know that you have the right, the capacity, the strength, and most of all, the desire.

When you speak your inalienable “yes” or “no,” when you honor your intuition, when you trust your most integrity-filled heart, and when you run, the Divine shows up – profoundly, miraculously, magically, overwhelmingly – because you do! Then, whether you stay or go, you are filled with blessing and strength; you carry a knowing, a secret-sense of self, a glorious glimpse of who you truly are that enables you step boldly into even the hardest and painful of situations with power and beauty.

So, run!

I promise you will be amazed by who meets you there. One look in the mirror, you’ll see her, and you’ll smile: “Oh! There you are! I know you!”

[This post is inspired by the ancient, sacred story of Hagar. She consistently and endlessly provides me strength and courage beyond-compare. She ran. She runs with me. And in such, the Divine runs toward us again and again.]

The Wild Voice Within

Jun 23, 2015 | Women's Voice & Power, Writing

There is a voice within that says more and edits less. It digs deep and dives down. It is impossible to embarrass and completely unrestrained. It refuses to keep quiet. It’s not interested in playing nice. It is passionate, risky, even risqué. It is dark and red and viscous. It weeps. It delights. It knows. It howls at the moon. And it writes . . .

But that’s about as far as it goes.

The voice without holds sway.

Pages and pages that never see the light of day. Notebooks and journals written by hand. Hundreds of documents started then saved. 3×5 cards scattered throughout a drawer. Ideas barely captured before they disappear. Disheveled and raw, desperate almost, this voice pours forth. Never mind the incomplete thoughts, the inchoate sentences, the impossible to define emotions.

Still it speaks, no matter how silenced. It is wild and will not be tamed.

Held at bay by nothing more (nor less) than a lump in the throat. Sitting on the tip of a tongue. Waiting to be welcomed home.  Certain. Sure. Patient. Undeniable truth, endless desire, and sheer volume finally tips the scales.

The wild within is seen, run toward, and embraced – like the Prodigal returned. No longer outcast, marginalized, hidden away. Far from penitent or tame. Fiercer than ever before. Articulate and wise beyond measure. Then consonants, vowels, words, sentences, pages, index cards, memories, stories, beliefs, emotions – all will tumble forward. Falling, twirling, dancing, taking form. Every stroke of the pen, peck of key, and document stacked or saved will fluently coalesce. Alchemy. Magic. Grace. Nothing but pure, unadulterated beauty and strength flows forth.

On that day and for all that follow, finally reunited and reconciled to her very self, she will speak-sing-write-create her way way into a world that has been waiting for her all along.

Take heart.