Someone commented recently on my mention of my spirit animal.
"Religion" has always been a tough bite to swallow. My grandparents deemed parochial school as important enough to them that they foot the bill for nine long years. As early as kindergarten (5 years old), the Sisters worried about my soul, and in second grade (7 years old) I met a ruler for asking how you know you have faith in Jesus. I stumbled through Reconciliation and Holy Communion (8 years old). My father was not exactly helpful, encouraging me to bring home an F in religion class.
By eighth grade and Confirmation (13 years old), I had some harsh challenges to the supposed goodness of God. I'd been gang-raped, my mother was dying "because of unconfessed sins", and no matter WHAT I did, those Fs (and the $100 prize) were out of reach. I did not want to confirm my beliefs in the Church, I wasn't ready to be an adult in their beliefs...but the adults all assured me that my uncertainity were signs of my maturity. *shrug* I went through the motions for their approval. One of my favorite photos of that time is my Confirmation picture.
Like most teens, I was angsty and frustrated with my footing, but without an outlet. My mom died and my dad battled crushing depression and I stepped into "head of household". I read Fifth Sacred Thing and Clan of the Cave Bear and I formulated ideas that were condemned by the Church.
It wasn't until I met Beloved that I found others who shared these ideas, who played in the moonlight and danced around bonfires. We toyed with bits and pieces, mixed them with sex energy, and discovered realms of consciousness. One of the first times I orgasmed with Beloved (ever), I found myself slipping into a dreamspace. I was flying and tumbling and running. At first there was amazing freedom and peace, but I was like Peter.
“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” ~Matthew, 14:28-30
God didn't answer me, though. She did. It is so hard to convey the image...this picture comes close. It was not a desert, but from a mountain cliff that she called to me. She was my mother, my friend, my protector, my teacher. Her calm, her solid body, her strength drew me and she kythed with me. When I was sated, she led me home to Beloved, her name on my lips. Maybe it is a lot of "Woo", but my Lioness has taught me healing, showed me a better way to live, and reopened my willingness to talk to God. I mentioned my frustrations with religions earlier. Mahatma Gandhi said, "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." I think that God and I have an accord; I will be part of the plan so long as I don't have to put up with the preaching.
*half smile* Hey...if God can talk to Moses in the form of a burning bush, anything is possible, right?
I dont talk to God anymore... he s too quite for my liking... and when he manifests himself he comes as a punisher, sure Ive learned a lot along the way, hey but he could have given me some advice...
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