The Intricate Web of Power

I had a cold, hard reminder of power dynamics on Saturday.

I just spent a week in Denver, in a group environment dedicated to identifying and calling out systems of oppression and how they function to keep the status-quo.

I had even done some additional work to name and work through my own privilege--how it manifests and how I can become more aware of it and hopefully use it to help others.

Then I was a victim of sexual aggression.

Just that simple, someone else who thinks they can so something does because in their mind it seems like a great idea. They didn't ask my opinion. They didn't stop to think how it would make me feel. And for me, all the times I've ever been violated and all the faces of perpetrators come forward to remind me that I am a woman in this society.

A man can look at me any way he wants. He can talk to me any way he wants. He can text me sexually explicit material just because he wants....and somehow this is my fault. I asked for it.

I have a vagina, so this automatically means I asked for it.

Be aware of your power. Be aware of your privilege. Are you hurting someone? Check yourself.

-Denora

Sermon on John 6:48-59

Sermon: John 6: 48-59

“May you never hunger...” is a statement that is uttered during a ritual honoring the connective relationship between man, nature, and the Gods. It is a phrase I have said many times as I hand bread to a person next to me and they receive it. In many ways, bread symbolizes life for humanity. In a literal sense, bread can sustain us when we are hungry. The act of grinding grain, mixing it with water, and applying heat is a process that both uses energy and provides energy for the body to utilize. From a spiritual perspective, bread is the embodied representation of deity.

But what is the significance of the act of offering something to another? When I reach out my hand to offer bread to another, and by uttering the words “May you never hunger,” I’m not intending to say “I hope you never experience hunger again” in a literal sense because we all experience hunger on a daily basis. In some way I’m saying I hope you will never want for sustenance to sustain you—both physically and spiritually. I want you to always have your fill—your connection to humanity and the divine.

John 6:58 states: “This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”

In this statement Jesus is referencing himself as the bread of heaven and the way to eternal life. In a sense, he is offering himself the way we offer when we reach out our hand with bread to another.

I want to backtrack a little to the statement of “That which your ancestors ate.” Two Greek terms are used in reference to eating in John 6: 48-59. The first is phago, meaning to eat, devour, and consume. It is a singular destructive action and we see this term in words like phagocyte and phagein. The other term is trogo, meaning to gnaw or chew, and stresses the slow internal process of taking in.

When the ancestors ate (phago) the manna given to them by God in the wilderness, it sustained them in a physical sense. It cured the temporary hunger that is part of the human condition. But it did nothing to sustain the spiritual hunger, or the connection to the divine and to each other. Each person gathered what they needed to sustain their physical form, but this distills each day to a process of gathering and consuming which brings no true satisfaction and fulfillment.

When Jesus says “The one who eats this bread will live forever,” he is using the continuous form of eat (trogo) to delineate the human need for continuous connection and the long, slow process of internalization that is not simply satisfied by a one-time encounter. Additionally, he is offering himself as one offers bread to another around the table of fellowship—building a relationship which is sustained over time. The act of internalization (trogo) provides the building blocks our body uses to renew itself over and over, creating a new and energized body that can focus on the world outside of the individual need to consume.

We are all familiar with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, and how food is one of the first, basic foundational needs in order for us to survive and scale the pyramid to self-actualization. But what if, instead of a pyramid, our needs form a circle that is continuous and life affirming. When we reach a hand out to another and offer bread, we offer physical comfort as well as the connection to each other and to the divine that allows us to become the best version of ourselves. Instead of climbing over each other in an effort to reach the top of the pyramid, we are joined in the reminder that we all have needs—we hunger, we thirst, and we need each other. This is how I take Jesus’ words to heart, and why I feel it is the act of offering himself as the bread that is the connection. So in closing, I say “May you never hunger.” So mote it be.

When Crossroads Intersect

There is something to be said about pain. Not the physical kind necessarily, though that does deserve its own acknowledgement. I'm referencing emotional pain.

What is it about the capacity to wound without causing physical damage to another? How can we directly measure the level of pain we cause purposefully, much less inadvertently?

Do we worry about going through life intentionally trying to avoid pain? And can we grow as human beings without it?

I would argue pain is a byproduct of our capacity to love. When we love something or someone the last thing we want to do is hurt them, but in the end we might hurt them worse than anyone else.

It is in the midst of this pain that real growth happens. It is in the time of darkness that we truly grow to appreciate the light. I try and sit with this pain. Understand it. Acknowledge it and give it space to exist without judgement. What is my pain trying to tell me? How is pain in another manifested? Where do the two intersect?

If I cause you pain, is there a place where the mending makes us stronger?

Denora

The Space Between

Many things have changed recently, one of the most notable being my acceptance into a ten-week intensive CPE internship at Johns Hopkins. I can't say enough good things about the hospital's stance on religious pluralism, and how they incorporate spiritual health as a benchmark of overall health for the patient. Here's a bit from their homepage: http://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/pastoralcare/

Many people have asked me if it's an issue for me to exist in a primarily Christian institution (JHH has approximately 20% Catholic patients overall) and my answer is somewhere in the middle. On the one hand, I have willingly inserted myself into this system knowing that my spiritual beliefs fall into a minority category. However, for me the crucial piece revolves around the meaning of healing for the patient. If when I am praying with a patient and we have entered into a sacred space where our theological understandings meet, I feel the encounter holds positive merit. I do feel odd sometimes not disclosing my faith to patients. But then I have to ask myself, does that really matter? If we are all human and need love, and if I am bringing love to another person does it matter if I am doing it in the name of Jesus or the Goddess?

Blessings,

Denora

My Breastfeeding Journey

Few topics incite so many opinions or stones to throw as breastfeeding. There are adamant opinions on both sides of the fence (both for and against) and it seems now a days very much like the topic of how many children you should produce, people feel it is within their realm of expertise to comment on how you should be feeding your baby.

I'm going to write about MY journey. Not because I feel I am any type of expert, but because I believe it is important to acknowledge that each mother/baby pair is different. And while many many years ago the convenience of formula was not available or illness would make the situation much worse, we thankfully live in a day and age where a woman can choose for her and her offspring the method by which she will feed and nourish her child. Whether she is a stay at home mom or returning to work after six weeks, it's time we all left our collective egos at the door and acknowledge that no decision is ever taken lightly when it comes to the mother/baby bond.

I was hell bent and determined to do two things on becoming a mother: give natural birth and breastfeed my child for as long as he wanted to. I was blessed to at least get my first request. Unfortunately, post-partum depression, sleep deprivation, traveling for work and for school every month, a thyroid disorder, and stress has taken its toll on my milk supply. At three months I seriously considered weaning him to formula but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I kept up the good fight despite only making three, maybe four ounces a feeding and having to supplement with formula if he wanted more, not to mention not being able to pump enough to have a full supply for when I was out of town (which is often). I have made it past six months, almost to seven, and I must now begrudgingly admit it is time to wean him to formula. This is one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make and it goes against everything I believe in concerning natural child-rearing.

There is of course the guilt and the questions of why can't I do this if so many other women can? There is the shame of feeling like less of a mother. There is the pain of not having that bond with your child, not to mention the comments or looks when you're feeding him a bottle in public. (To be clear, these also happen when you're trying to breastfeed in public. See first paragraph) I'm in the middle of transitioning him, so of course the feelings are the most intense at the moment. I've had several well-meaning people tell me this is no big deal, he is perfectly healthy and I'm being silly. But let me reiterate: this is my journey. Mine and my son's. We decide what is best for us and I feel because of external factors I have had that chance taken away from me. Will this be the end of my world? Of course not. But don't demean my experiences in the name of trying to make it all seem trivial.

I am taking this step by step, day by day. I know with time this too will pass.

Denora

Ostara: Spring has Sprung

The wheel continues to turn, and now we've come to the Vernal Equinox. Ostara, that time when the daylight hours finally catch up to the night and darkness. We can feel winter's release from the land as it slowly retreats. I took my son outside the other day and we touched the plants just beginning to bud. The green life is just waiting to spring forth--it's so close!

Robins have come back and are grabbing worms out of the earth in the morning. The skinny squirrels, after a long and harsh winter season are hurriedly rushing around restocking and eating to gain weight. The groundhog that lives in my back yard and warned me of how harsh our winter would be looks like he has lost fifteen pounds. I can smell the earth finally thawing.

The sun on my skin feels new--not quite the intensity of summer, but just a kiss right now. The grocery stores are stocked with bitter greens; kale, asparagus, collard, arugula, bok choy...all these things to flush out the heaviness of winter foods that we've stored for so long. Our bodies yearn for movement, craving the fresh air.

The Vernal Equinox relates to balance, rebirth, renewal, and resurrection. The symbolism of the Easter egg is tied to fertility and the rebirth of the cosmos. The rabbit is also a symbol of fertility, in addition to its dual nature of dwelling in two worlds--underground and above ground thus its association with the earth and underworld. The Goddess is Maiden in all her glory, youthful and new. The God is coming into his maturity and the dance of their love is innocent.

This spring comes with new promise. New life, and new beginnings are in the air. Go outside, enjoy the sunshine, and celebrate that spring has sprung!

Our Karmic Legacy

I believe in Karma. I also believe in the prospect of pre-arranged contracts with the ones we love and those in our lives. Sometimes they stay, sometimes they go, but always with a lesson. Sometimes they stay forever because they are family.

I have a difficult time sometimes with Karmic contracts that keep us in a perpetual cycle of suffering. What is the lesson to be learned? Can we help another person or are we doomed to relive the past over and over without end? How much of another's suffering must we endure before we cut ties and can we ever truly walk away? These are challenges we all face, but we must ultimately grapple with the answers and the consequences of our actions.

What did we do in another life together? Can we be done hurting each other? Can the suffering end?

I love you.

Denora