Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Isolation

 "To all who mourn in the arms of patriarchy,
I will give a crown of beauty for ashes
a joyous blessing instead of mourning
festive praise instead of despair
they will be like great woman-oaks
bearing the glory of the Mother"
Isaiah 61:3, completely shined up to reflect the Divine Feminine


I read in another article how isolation does not heal emotional dysregulation, but increases it.
There are different types of isolation, and healing from abuse and trauma is very much an inner movement. For me, I have, over the years, numbed myself so completely and learned how to not feel that when my awakening came it was painful, and pain was the conduit for waking up. I'd spent my whole life trying to avoid seeing or knowing, yet could not control the fact that the pain still seeped out. The awakening  created great, disruptive waves as I wrestled with waking up and owning up.
The movement was a downward spiral, a necessary downward spiral.  Along this way of healing I've hit several bottoms, as I've realized what I do not know, as I've faced the hard reality of a situation, as I've searched and searched for truth.
Anger and intense grief, self-righteousness, education, mobilization, giving up, busyness...these are all feelings and activities the parts of me have carried on the spiral down. The spiral down involves stripping away what you knew before, and in still dealing with any enemy-makers, I've stripped away some of my humanity too. I've had to in order to survive and take away the oppressor's power. I've let go of some of my basic human rights. I've lived the story of being unwanted.
This in and of itself is isolating. In my situation, I'm not being hit, I've simply got someone presenting themselves as flawless compared to sick, pathetic, rebellious me. The violence is more covert but it is violence nonetheless.
It makes me sick to my stomach, all the minor Trumps. Violence is  financial bullying, contempt,  words, attitudes, intentions to make me less than a person. This abuse is so subtle it places me squarely in some ass-crack of society, isolated and snugly tucked away where no one would believe me, which is what those makers of violence want.
It took me some time to realize I am in a chronic bullying situation. I worry I become a burden to my community. I am embarrassed that I chose so wrongly.

I know I am not the only one.
At the bottom of the spiral, where one is completely stripped of one's humanity, where all your well-worn parts that have so diligently protected you are awake and active, where you find your Self in the context of nothing, where you are completely alone and isolated...there is where you find the Divine. There is where you are stripped down, bared, nothing. Then you lean, and find you are held.
I cried when reading an article about the "still, small voice". The author called the voice "her". I had never thought of the "still, small voice" as a woman's, much less my own, but in being stripped away, I realized that voice is valid too, and all those messages about being an unwanted girl came flooding back. Of course my still, small voice is a SHE and has every right to be. God is found in all things feminine, too.
I could not find that voice without setting myself apart. I get lost in the noise of being forced from situations that have no promise of health anyway, the violence of rejection: a shining, alluring dart, a familiar.
The spiral out begins. That's where I am, although I touch the bottom more frequently than I would like sometimes, and just by virtue of my situation I am learning how to spiral upward. I have to. Because in the spiral upward, I find spirit: grace, joy, gratitude, and the practice of making something incredibly beautiful of this sordid mess. I find the health of transformation, with God by my side. I reject any stories of me as demon or enemy, for I am a warrior for truth. I shake off the ugliness of enemy-makers, I clothe myself in beauty. I become Spirit.
This is the healing. The plans of the divine are so much more than we imagine, they are in the beauty among ashes . Isolation is not just about being separated from the other. I have had so many others on my spiral path who have reached out their hands to lift me up, so I am never far from a generous kindred or a shoulder to cry on.  It is about being separated from God, and from Her still, small voice.
I spiral out, singing loudly, joyously proclaiming Her arrival.




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