Journey to Goddess (revisited)

I originally posted this back in March of 2011, so if you've been a follower of this blog for a while you may have already read a similar (although not identical) post. I had the opportunity to submit a piece of "creative works" for a contest at my Alma mater. I felt like this was really the best thing I had written in recent years and it fit their guidelines fairly well. Now it's a long shot that I'll win, especially since my college is a Catholic university - but to be fair, the women that run the department that the contest is through are amazing and open to diversity in religious/spiritual beliefs. If it is these women who judge the writing, maybe I have a chance. :) So, we shall see. Have a read (or a re-read) and let me know what you think.

Journey to Goddess.

This is not a story about finding and losing faith. This is a story about losing and finding faith in oneself. This is a true story, in the way that truth can be seen through colliding memories. This is not just my story. It is told the world over by every woman who is taught to ignore her own wisdom. The characters, the religions, the path taken may all be different, but the story of a woman rediscovering her own wisdom is the same. When a young girl is expected to fit herself into institutions not made with her in mind, she starts to disbelieve her own truths. She starts to think her truth can only be defined by others. The impact of this is subtle and far-reaching.

Perhaps in sharing my story – my truth – she can start to believe in hers.

Child Wisdom.

My journey to the goddess has been a long and interesting one. Really it has come full circle, twice. I once was a child who trusted her intuition, who knew the divine energy without being told, without specific names. And this child, she sang. She sang of birds and swing sets and sunlight and the joy of getting milk out of the fridge. And this child, she was wise. And then the world started to name things. This is Jesus. This is God. This is how a woman should act. This is the church. God is found in here and like this.

Catholicism.

This child that I was, she adopted these new names and worked within the confines of them. I still knew the divine but its form had changed. I was friends with Jesus. Once, sitting at the dining room table, I looked up at the picture of the last supper. I pointed to Jesus and said “That man was in my room today.” I was friends with Jesus and I sang new songs.

As I grew, my wisdom changed. Jesus didn’t appear to me, but I did continue to have conversations with him. Not always, usually only during my most vulnerable, stressed moments. I thought of it as Jesus speaking through my own mind, not really Jesus himself but me tapping into my own divinity and finding his wisdom there. I was proud of my faith, but found I was not always in agreement with the Church. I was still wise because I could separate faith with the actions of men (aka Church). And my faith, it felt good and right. But other parts of my life didn’t. Something always felt off. After high school, I fell into some very bad habits and temporarily lost my will to have faith. After spiraling downward for a year, I knew I needed change. In an attempt to salvage something I wasn’t sure was even there, I went to college.

College.

College is always a time of growth. I went to St. Kate’s for the sole reason that I walked on campus and it felt right. That little wise child I had been whispered, “We can sing here. This is right.” College was good. I took theology courses and found my faith in Jesus again. It felt strong and real because I was choosing it myself after really, truly investigating it. And yet something still felt off. But I was healing from my downward spiral and I felt myself growing wise again. Then it all changed.

Victoria.

Victoria got breast cancer. She was my rock. An older woman I leaned on for laughter and wisdom.  And in an instant, everything collapsed. There is a lot that could be said here. In fact that story has already been written and perhaps I will share it someday. But here is the turning point, the entrance of the Goddess. When I heard the news, I was a mess and ran from the building. I walked aimlessly, in a cloud. And just as it happened in my younger years, I heard Jesus. “This is a test of Vicki’s faith and yours. If you both believe in God’s power, all will be well.”

And I screamed “NO!”

And the Goddess came. In that very instant when my spirit realized how flat and incomplete that message was, the voice in my head became a female voice. A mother’s voice. “Look around you. See the world. Do you see? Do you see the colors mingling together? Do you see the life present in everything? It all works together. You cannot separate the rain from the sky, or the bark from the tree. There is a delicate balance… Should the world always be ruled by the sun, we would not know to miss the presence of the moon. Your struggle is the same. Would you know so deeply your love for Vicki, if this struggle had not beset her? You are not powerless. We are all connected and thus can affect all that we are connected to. There are no lines separating us. Look at the world. See yourself in everything around you. It is as much a part of you, as you are a part of it. Know that… and your power is found.”

Wicca.

I had found the Goddess. But years of Catholicism made me think I needed more structure. I felt like this new Goddess couldn’t be something I could understand on my own; I would need others to tell me who she was. In this search for outside knowledge, I bypassed my own wisdom, but luckily found Wicca. And more importantly Wiccan friends. Wicca closely aligned with what my own wisdom and intuition told me. But something was still off. I did rituals and spells, read books upon books, became a leader in a Pagan group on campus. It was a good time and Wicca helped bridge a gap that needed bridging, but something in me told me I wouldn’t stay forever.

Kali-ma.

My last semester in college, I had a roommate who turned out to be an energy vampire. What was supposed to be the best semester quickly turned into the worst. I spent so much time dealing with her passive aggressive communication that I was anxious and incapable of relaxing. My good friend invited me over for lentil soup and tea. Her house was sacred and being there, I opened up and told her about my roommate. She went to her room and came back with a wall hanging of Kali. “This is Kali-ma. She is death and destruction. She is mother to those without mothers and she protects her children fiercely.” I hung Kali on the wall by my bed that very day. As I laid in bed, trying to fall asleep and trying not to think about my roommate in the next room, Kali came to me. Her energy was thick and dark and heavy. She settled around me like a blanket. “Kali. Mother. Tell me what to do.” And she told me. She showed me things that had happened between my roommate and me. She asked why I let my roommate take so much of my energy. Why was I afraid to be fierce? Through her I learned that destruction is the very beginning of life. And being fierce is at the very core of the Goddess. Kali-ma taught me boundaries and self-protection. Knowing Kali-ma is like knowing the core of the earth. Scary, powerful, beautiful beyond measure and love so deep that it is dark and fierce. Since that day, when I refer to the Goddess as “Ma” I am not referring to the maiden, mother or crone but to the older, primordial Goddess that is all three and so much more.

East West.

After college, I moved to California and worked in a spiritual bookstore. I was surrounded by texts from every known religion and spiritual path. I learned so much in that bookstore, yet precious little of it came from books. It came from the people (specifically the other employees). They were so sure in what they knew and yet were never threatened by the differing beliefs of others. They trusted their intuition and encouraged me to trust in mine. And I did. I started knowing things before they happened. Like one day, my good friend called me and as soon as I heard her voice my intuition told me she was pregnant. And she was. Little things like that. During work I held stones and learned what the energy of an amethyst felt like compared to the energy of fluorite or jasper or quartz. I learned that books can be useful to a point but when your intuition speaks, listen. When a book says a stone can help with this or that, but your intuition says differently. Listen. I honed my intuition. To this day, I can hold stones and have an intuitive sense of their properties.

During my time at the bookstore, I moved away from Wicca. The structured rituals didn’t fit with my new intuitive self. There are principles and wisdom within Wicca that I still follow to this day. It wasn’t painful like my departure from Catholicism. It was simply a turn in the circle, moving back to where I had first started with a little more wisdom in my pocket. So what is my path now? Much like it was in childhood, it has no name. I practice intuitive magic. There are no circles cast or corners invoked. Although there are sometimes candles, incense, stones and earth, there is mostly me and my divine energy. I do what feels right and simple and encourage others to do the same.

Reconnection.

I have walked a long and changing path. I have become a wife, a step-mother and more recently, a mother. Trusting in my own wisdom, learning how to define my own truths has brought me more joy than I can hold in my arms. It has sculpted who I have become and it has articulated who I wish to evolve to be. There are dark moments, as there are in any life, but I trust that my wisdom will see me through them. I do not wish my wisdom or my truths unto others. I do not wish a woman to journey to goddess if that is not her path. I only wish she braves the journey to her own truth and finds happiness along the way.