Leading with Love

I’ve experienced so many emotions over the last couple of weeks as I poured over the news of the murdered men and women in Charleston; the validation of the ACA by the Supreme Court; and the announcement of marriage equality. In the midst of all that, I watched Out in the Night, a film about four young black lesbians from New Jersey who were jailed for defending themselves from attack, and read Dream Things True by Marie Marqhardt, a young adult novel about a young woman in the United States illegally since being brought here from Mexico at the age of two.

With all of that swirling around inside me, I just want to focus on the celebrations for a moment before we all head back to the work yet to be done.

The eulogy by President Obama for Reverend Clementa Pinckney was powerful. If you haven’t seen it, please go hear it for yourself.

I am so pleased that the Supreme Court upheld the legality of the ACA. Too many people have not had the safety net that this insurance measure provides. It may not be perfect, but it is better than the nothing that we have had for those who do not have insurance through an employer. That system just doesn’t make sense. As long as you are healthy enough to work–and are working a substantial enough job that insurance is provided rather than three or four jobs that don’t net you any insurance–you can have insurance. But get sick enough for long enough, lose your job and all of a sudden, just when you need it, no insurance.

And then came marriage equality. It was such a wonderful feeling when I heard the news. Not being able to marry someone I love has never felt like a big loss for me personally. But for many people I know and love it has. Despite my lukewarm feeling toward marriage, this ruling filled my whole body with joy. For far too long, the way love and desire works inside me has been deemed an abomination by my government. Not any more. It is interesting what an impact that has on a person–being different and welcome, versus different and tolerated or even rejected and deemed as not being worthy of basic rights. There is still a lot of work to be done to ensure equality–and welcome–across the board for all who live in this country. We aren’t done, and won’t be until it happens. With love leading the way, it is bound to.

One of the most heart-warming things for me around the marriage equality celebration was seeing how many of my straight friends were celebrating the SCOTUS decision. Many of them were friends from my childhood or college years that I have had no contact with outside of Facebook since. Mixed in with my joy for this is also a sadness. My choice to slip silently away rather than risk being known–and possibly embraced in full friendship–has robbed both my friends and me of richer relationships. I owe each person that I never personally came out to an apology for not seeing you accurately, for not trusting you to love me and make room for me. I also owe you an apology for projecting my own inability to embrace myself fully onto you.

You all look beautiful in rainbow.

Playing the Fringe

I started preparing for KC Fringe Fest 2015 by playing around with fairy tales to see which one best told my own life story. A few fits and starts later, it was clearly Sleeping Beauty. I have felt for much of my life as if my heart were asleep, inaccessible to me. I have searched for true love’s kiss sure it would wake me up. It never quite did.

Finally, I comprehend that I’ve been looking in all the wrong places, that the love I have sought is already alive within me, that I am created of Love, by Love and can never be separated from it. I had to awaken to that before I could ever be available to any love that someone else might have for me. Once I did, I saw it everywhere.

Just as with love, this story did not go where I thought it would. I had a couple of personal stories I’d already crafted that I expected to become a part of this structure. Turns out a different story wanted to be told. Twice Conceived made itself known to me in fits and starts. I just kept walking into my coaching sessions every time sure that I had nothing to work on, nothing to give. Every time I walked out, I was delighted to have discovered that something had been percolating up in that brain of mine after all.

Without my storytelling coach, it never would have happened. Laura has a way of hearing story into being. She held room for me and the story both when I hit those hard patches that have been silently hiding my stories. It was painful at times. My body had grown around those shadows; they had become a part of my marrow, hidden within my bones. Without her guidance and support this endeavor would still be the pipe dream it has been for the last three or four years.

Twice Conceived debuts at the KC Fringe Fest in July. I am excited to see how this story ends.

The Gift

You may underestimate the intensity of your longing for continual transformation, but the universe doesn’t. That’s why it provides you with the boundless entertainment of your ever-shifting story. That’s why it is always revising the challenges it sends your way, providing your curious soul with a rich variety of unpredictable teachings.
From Rob Brezsny’s May 5, 2015 Astrology Newsletter

I have been played. By the Divine Trickster no less. I can’t stop laughing to myself as I tip my head. Namaster: The Trickster in me recognizes and honors the Trickster in you.

A couple of weeks ago, this woman I met awhile back stepped out of my peripheral vision and engaged me in conversation. New life sprang up inside me just like the primal bamboo in my back yard–not slowly pushing it’s way up through the resistant soil, but bam, here I am–knee high before you can blink your eye. (Please forgive the rhyme; that was not intentional.)

I was not expecting that. I mean seriously, I’m working on three goals, and I’ve got a waiting list five deep, with love and desire right at the tail end of those. So maybe a year or two and I’m ready.

But these feelings are lovely, and now I’m shuffling the stack to make room in my world to enjoy them. Who wouldn’t?

I know that these feelings are mine, and though they have been triggered by this particular woman, it doesn’t mean that she will have any interest in me, nor does it mean that she will be someone that I will want to share them with. I finally get that, and I love that I do. But why not take a step forward and see what there is to see?

When I have been attracted to someone in the past, my mind has tended to go blank, my tongue to tie itself in knots, and my feet to head me anywhere but in her direction. Nonetheless, I determine that the next time I see this woman, I will ask her if she’d be interested in grabbing a cup of coffee sometime. (I don’t drink coffee, but I’ve got my Virgo need for detail accuracy in check, and I have rehearsed this simple line used without qualm by normal people everywhere, until I can recite it in any blanked out state my brain might throw at me.)

As the next possible opportunity to see her approaches, I’m hearing Chris Michael’s voice from prayer class in my head–“people usually turn to prayer as a last resort”–so I accept the invitation and I claim the courage to speak this one measly line, the faith to know that my life is unfolding perfectly no matter what, and, well, what the hell.

The Universe, recognizing my keen ability to talk myself out of anything at the last moment, starts strumming leftover remnants of songs in my mind to help bolster my resolve: “What would I do if I were brave.” Then a whole brand new song: “You can’t touch the sky from inside yourself. You cannot fly until you break the shell.” Then comes the challenge from Mike Irwin, CSL’s spiritual co-director: “What would you do this year if you were brave?” Whatever on this year. What about today?

So next chance I had, I asked. It wasn’t even hard. The line came out almost smoothly. She accepted–but not for a specific sometime. I didn’t get the feeling that she was particularly interested in doing so.

That’s when it hit me that God in It’s infinite wisdom was playing me just the way It needed to–getting me to open up, to release some of my old stuff and to really get clear on what I want–and that I want for that matter. And the real gift for me in this (besides these dreamy feelings) is that I get to see that I have become a woman equal to the lover, and the lover experience, that I want to have.

Honoring the Inner Feminine

Once upon a time, in a land just a few blocks away, I had the unrequited desire to be a drag queen. The lesbians could make no sense of it. “You can’t be a drag queen. You’re a girl.” I was undeterred. I had had a lifetime of people telling me what I could not do because I was a girl. The desire, however, remained locked within me until one day one of my straight friends showed up at work with the perfect outfit: white leather/ black spandex short-shorts and halter top, with a pair of cat-eye sunglasses to match.

Under the cover of Halloween, I made my drag debut. I was disturbingly hot. Let me assure you, however, that being a drag queen requires a lot more than just looking good. Not everyone has the cojones to pull off dancing, lip synching, and keeping the beat. In heels. One night wobbling around was enough for me.

Or so I thought.

Along came the Hunger Games, and who was I pining to emulate? Not the amazing Katniss Everdeen (though she fascinates me in her inability to make sense of the world she has been thrust into and her inability to be other than who she is). Nope. Effie Trinket.

Effie of the big hair and bigger flower, perfect make-up, and strangely chastely sexy outfits. And those eyelashes? To die for. Except those lashes were $20. And I am cheap. Three Halloweens come and go and I am frozen, unable to go forth and shop, despairing of ever finding the perfect outfit. But those eyelashes . . .

I confide my secret to a woman at work, and before lunch, she has sent me a link – $3.99. Those eyelashes are mine. Just this Saturday, I found the perfect dress and shoes to go with those eyelashes. (You know I had help–thank god for the women in my life with feminine sensibilities and aesthetic taste.)

Effie has pervaded my soul. I want more. Who needs Halloween?

Prayer Control Freak

It has occurred to me over the last couple of weeks that two seemingly disparate phenomena in my life at the moment significantly inform each other.

In last week’s post, I talked about my tendency to take on the emotional care of other people–like I know what they need. So I’m working through that (once again) at the same time that I am immersed in a series of classes at CSL that have me looking at God and prayer. It strikes me that I’m just a jumbled mess around both of these things–in basically the same way.

I have participated in too many relationships as if I were God Itself–the wound savior; the source for people’s happiness. Sometimes I have taken on people’s pain because I could feel them wanting something that, quite possibly, they were not even aware of wanting, and sometimes I have taken it on because I wanted something from them. This was the only way I knew to be worthy of a connection.

So here I am grappling with all this stop-caretaking-people stuff at the same time that I am studying prayer. Damned if I haven’t fallen into the same trap with prayer. I’ve been going at it like I am responsible for making the thing that people desire to experience manifest for them, instead of just getting to the heart of it and holding my knowing on the truth that it is theirs already, just waiting for them to choose it.

I still haven’t gotten this all figured out: caretaking/loving in regards to people; knowing/willing in regards to prayer. But it occurs to me that one of the obvious lines in regards to people is listening. Just listening, no fixing. It is time to trust the people I am engaging with to find their way (or to find somebody else who is happy to oblige them by doing the caretaking they are after). Finally, there is trusting that my own value has nothing to do with how well I take care of other people’s needs, with how well I anticipate them so they don’t even have to ask. The truth is that all I could ever be is the band-aid that keeps people from really seeking out the healing that is available to them from Source.

So here’s the deal. I am going to get to the heart of both of these issues, and when I do, I am going to suck in the biggest breath of freedom you ever saw, and laugh and laugh and laugh.