Creation's Paths

I woke up this morning to the sound of screaming and it took a while for me to realize it was a nightmare. At least I think it was a nightmare, but the more I contemplate it the more I wonder if it wasn’t more a psychic scream I was just sensitive enough to hear.

There is so much suffering in the world right now, and the more we cling to the lies of late stage capitalism, the more there will be. I live in what so many lovingly call the heartland… I’ve never been comfortable with that kind of language. It is a bit too self aggrandizing for my taste. It is also a misnomer.

Jobs are going away because of the mismanagement and greed of the megacorps that run them. Government aid is restricted to make people desperate enough to take whatever job they can find. Climate change has brought more storms and flooding to the region. Women’s rights are under attack. Trans people are being outlawed. Suffering is a growth industry.

I am still shaken by the experience. That scream haunts me. It wasn’t a singular voice, It broke into my mind as a symphony of pain, shaking me awake from a sound sleep that didn’t have anything dark, scary, or painful in it.

My life itself has become a metaphor…

All our lives are metaphors if we choose to read them like that.

Letting go, in our lives, of all our pain and strife,Releases the burden that we carry deep within,Liberating us to seek the path to freedomTo break the binds that tie us.

For in our hearts there lies a hidden source,A river of divine flow, waiting to be tapped,So wisdom can spill forth and enlightenOur minds to imagining a better world to build.

This river runs beneath the surface of life,A force that flows through all creation,Connecting all that is, and ever shall be,A current of vital energy, waiting to set us free.

Draw from this wellspring, and we shall find,The strength to rise above all that holds us down,To face each trial with courage and with grace,And to walk with ease, on paths once so hard.

For in this river, there lies a gift to cure,A healing balm that soothes our weary souls,And gives us wings to rise above the fray,To touch the sky and dance among the stars.

So let us not hold onto all our pain and strife,And tap this underground river of divine flow,For in its depths, we'll find the strength we seek,And all the love and light our heart can hold.

Isn’t that what I am supposed to say? Isn’t that the advice we always offer in times like this? It isn’t wrong, but it isn’t really helpful. A hollow truth isn’t a lie, but it cannot sustain us for very long.

the truth of hollowness

Over the last year, I’ve come to see the difference between the trite, hollow truths that are often given out as spiritual advice and the hard truth of hollowness that those of us who have reached this place quickly forget how to talk about.

I talked about this recently on my other substack:

Hollowness is painful to achieve.No one should strive to reach it.Welcome it in when it knocks.Fighting against it is futile.

Hollowness is the other side of the ennui coin.

ennui

noun

a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom: (Dictionary.com)

* Ennui is the state of weariness and discontent from being too full or uninterested in something.

* Hollowness is the state of weariness and discontent from being emptied out or disillusioned by something.

They can be hard to tell apart. How can we know if we are too full or too empty when we don’t have the energy or interest to do anything? Does it matter which it is?

Yes. Ennui fills us up and holds us in place like an anchor. Hollowness has an empty space that can be filled to fuel forward action.

Hollowness hurts more than ennui. I probably shouldn’t say that since I am advocating for it, but it is important to be honest here.

All of the pain and suffering pressed upon us by this post modern age as it collapses around us will destroy us if we don’t let them go. Suffering, if we hold it too tight can fester into resentment and hatred. We should never lie to ourselves about how alluring and comfortable hate is. It is an abusive friend that always gives bad advice and encourages us down the wrong path. If we do nothing else in our lives other than free ourselves from hate, we have lived a good life.

the struggle to let go

It is hard to let go,to set down our pain,to release our suffering,to forgive our abusers.

We cannot pick up to put down.We should not take in to set free.We must not dig in to clean out.We haven’t learned to let go.

Open your hands,unclench your fists,relax your heart,don’t forget to breathe.

Letting go is not a process. We may have to do a lot of work to understand and accept the need to let go, but the act itself is easy. It is so easy we refuse to believe and embrace the process, and overcomplicate it. We add numerous steps and stages to reassure ourselves that we are actually doing something.

Letting go is not something we do. It is what we don’t do.

When we practice letting go, we approach life with open hands and open hearts. We allow the pain and suffering to fall away. To say we are personally doing something would mean that when we are outside in the rain we give each rain drop permission to hit us and flow down our bodies. That is not how rain or water works. Some try to blame people from being out in the rain in the first place.

Suffering rains down from all the oppressive forces empowered by greed, fear, hate, and trauma. So many TERFs are lashing out from traumas and pains they hold so close and identify so strongly with, discussion with them is impossible. They are hurting so much they cannot notice it anymore. They have come to believe that the way they feel is natural. They cannot grow out of their pain until they recognize that first. None of that excuses the suffering they inflict on others. Suffering longs to spread and inflict itself on others.

Knowing the sources of suffering can develop compassion within us, but knowledge is not the solution to the problem.

Understanding why the clouds form does not stop the rain. Accepting that rain falls does not prevent us from getting wet. Letting go is simply not clinging to the pain. To continue the rain analogy: once we notice we are sitting in a tub collecting the rain water, letting go is either getting out of the tub, or at the very least, pulling the plug so that water can drain out.

Sometimes it is impossible or way too hard to get out of the tub, but we don’t have to allow ourselves to drown in the deluge when it comes.

Spaciousness

Sometimes, the trick isn’t to stand up, but to open up. The greatest superpower of the way of release is the art of opening ourselves up to the spacious awareness of hollowness.

When I think of the vastness of the cosmos and deep time, I am amazed to exist in the unfolding story of creation. We aren’t small. Not really. The water that makes up 55 to 78% of our bodies contains 2 hydrogen forged in the Big Bang and one oxygen atom. That oxygen started as hydrogen in the heart of a star that fused together to make oxygen before that star died in a nova and shared its oxygen with the universe. The iron in our blood came from a red giant star that made it as its last act before exploding. The calcium in our bones was made as those stars exploded. We are the children of one or more stars that lived their whole lives before our sun ever came into being.

We are capable of poetry, art, music, love, compassion, so many beautiful things. Each of those require us to have space within us so they can be born. This is the lie in the story of the tortured artist. No one has to be tortured to make art, but we all have to have that open spaciousness within us that makes room for art to come into being.

We are star stuff building the world to come each day through countless creative acts.

When it is too hard for us to let go, if we can just open our hands the bigger things may just fall away from their own weight.

“So the last will be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few are chosen.”

Jesus, Matthew 20:16

That is a hard sentence to understand and accept: “For many are called, but few are chosen.” It has divided Christians for millennia. I never really understood it myself until I spent many years in Creation Spirituality and it took the help of Rabbi David A. Cooper’s wonderful book, God is a Verb, before I fully understood.

As panentheists, God is in all things and all things are in God. So what does it mean for God to call or choose anyone or anything? Is this an expression of ego or something else?

The Call

The word of God echoes through the cosmos, spoken a new in every moment as it continually makes, expands, and evolves creation. We can hear it in the stillness of meditation, the rush of the wind, the song of the birds, the trickle of water, and so many other places I could list them forever.

Within this word is a call to wisdom, to justice, to co-create the world to come with God. This call rings out for anyone who listens, but it isn’t our fault if and when we don’t hear it. This still, small voice is all too easily drown out by the noise, pain, and chaos of the life in the world.

There are also many forces in this world that work hard to keep us distracted from this voice, this word. Greed, power, white supremacy, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, fear, terror – these are all diversions from the path meant to keep us divided, feeling alone, weak, and scared so those with power can keep what they have and not be blamed for the inequality and suffering they need to bake into the system so they can keep what they have.

When we are struggling to put food on the table, keep a roof over our head, pay for medicine and healthcare, or whatever we have to do just to survive, we can’t hear the voice. We cannot even hear our own thoughts, much less the voice of the Holy One. It is almost impossible to respond to a call we cannot hear.

We are called to live. Not to this life or that life, but to live, to be alive. If we want to help people hear the call, the solution is not to preach to them but to alleviate their suffering. We have to tear down the systems that oppress, divide, and keep people down and build up new systems that facilitate life.

Many are called… everyone is called… the word of God calls out continuously. So why are few chosen?

The Chosen

There is nothing special about being chosen. Chosen is a response to call.

“The closest we can come to thinking about God is as a process rather than a being.  We can think of it as ‘be-ing’ as verb rather than noun…Most of our verbs are considered transitive, which require a direct object, or intransitive, which do not.  [Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi] suggests that God-ing is a mutually interactive verb, one which entails an interdependency between two subjects, each being the object for the other.”

Rabbi David A Cooper, God is a Verb, 69

The word calls, but we are not chosen until we respond to that call and come alive.

So many people get distracted by the sin and the forgiveness of sins and forget that Jesus came that we “may have life, and may have it abundantly (John 10:10).” As he said, “For which is easier, to say, 'Your sins are forgiven;' or to say, 'Get up, and walk (Matt 9:5)?'”

It is hard for us to accept our royal personhood. We know all that we have done, and often have guilt for either our past actions or those of our culture, nation, religion, or community. That bitterness goes both ways. The misdeeds and violations done to us and our peoples also cloud our minds and keep us from hearing the call and accepting our chosenness.

This is why Jesus encouraged us to pray, “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors. (Matt 6:12)” or “Forgive us our sins, for we ourselves also forgive everyone who is indebted to us (Luke 11:4)...” It is easy to see how forgiveness is a part of the Via Negativa (The Path of Silence) where we let go and let be, but it is equally a part of the Way of Bliss or Via Positiva.

Forgiveness grows from our earthiness and is a key factor in the cosmic hospitality we are called to take part in. For the sun shines on the just and the unjust and the rain falls on both as well (Matthew 5:45) for we are all children of God. We desire good to come to our friends and our enemies alike because we understand how suffering longs to spread and afflict others.

Once we accept everyone is a child of the earth made of the same dirt and filled with the same water, we begin to see our royal personhood and live.

Chosenness is a Responsibility

Everyone is entitled to basic dignity, goodness, and life. We should all have a life free from hunger and sheltered from the harshness of the world. No one deserves to be mistreated, harmed, or neglected.

This may sound like a fuzzy, almost psychodelic dream where everyone gets along, but it is actually a call to action. Once we come alive to our own royal personhood, we see it in all others, too. It is not something that makes us special; it is a reality we have a part in co-creating.

Once we come into this newness of life, we become an enemy to racism, sexism, nationalism, homophobia, transphobia, and all the other illusions that keep us separated and in bondage to others. We rise up against the powers of greed and division that hold wealth and power in a few and seek a path to bring prosperity, health, and life to all.

I do mean all. We cannot truly live if Earth, the rivers, the air, and the rest of the environment isn’t liberated as well.

There are many paths to this awakening, but all are found within the four paths of Creation Spirituality from those born from awe, letting go, creating, and transforming the world through justice and celebration.

Listen, my siblings, sisters, and brothers. Listen for the voice of the Holy One calling your name and speaking your heart into being. Embrace your own dignity and value and do all you can to prepare a place for others to realize and live their own royal personhood. This is the great work we do in our daily lives and how we make the world a better place.

We cannot save the environment until most people want to live in the world and not flee from it when the liars, grifters, and dividers call out to them.

“So the last will be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few are chosen.”

Jesus, Matthew 20:16

That is a hard sentence to understand and accept: “For many are called, but few are chosen.” It has divided Christians for millennia. I never really understood it myself until I spent many years in Creation Spirituality and it took the help of Rabbi David A. Cooper’s wonderful book, God is a Verb, before I fully understood.

As panentheists, God is in all things and all things are in God. So what does it mean for God to call or choose anyone or anything? Is this an expression of ego or something else?

The Call

The word of God echoes through the cosmos, spoken a new in every moment as it continually makes, expands, and evolves creation. We can hear it in the stillness of meditation, the rush of the wind, the song of the birds, the trickle of water, and so many other places I could list them forever.

Within this word is a call to wisdom, to justice, to co-create the world to come with God. This call rings out for anyone who listens, but it isn’t our fault if and when we don’t hear it. This still, small voice is all too easily drown out by the noise, pain, and chaos of the life in the world.

There are also many forces in this world that work hard to keep us distracted from this voice, this word. Greed, power, white supremacy, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, fear, terror – these are all diversions from the path meant to keep us divided, feeling alone, weak, and scared so those with power can keep what they have and not be blamed for the inequality and suffering they need to bake into the system so they can keep what they have.

When we are struggling to put food on the table, keep a roof over our head, pay for medicine and healthcare, or whatever we have to do just to survive, we can’t hear the voice. We cannot even hear our own thoughts, much less the voice of the Holy One. It is almost impossible to respond to a call we cannot hear.

We are called to live. Not to this life or that life, but to live, to be alive. If we want to help people hear the call, the solution is not to preach to them but to alleviate their suffering. We have to tear down the systems that oppress, divide, and keep people down and build up new systems that facilitate life.

Many are called… everyone is called… the word of God calls out continuously. So why are few chosen?

The Chosen

There is nothing special about being chosen. Chosen is a response to call.

“The closest we can come to thinking about God is as a process rather than a being.  We can think of it as ‘be-ing’ as verb rather than noun…Most of our verbs are considered transitive, which require a direct object, or intransitive, which do not.  [Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi] suggests that God-ing is a mutually interactive verb, one which entails an interdependency between two subjects, each being the object for the other.”

Rabbi David A Cooper, God is a Verb, 69

The word calls, but we are not chosen until we respond to that call and come alive.

So many people get distracted by the sin and the forgiveness of sins and forget that Jesus came that we “may have life, and may have it abundantly (John 10:10).” As he said, “For which is easier, to say, 'Your sins are forgiven;' or to say, 'Get up, and walk (Matt 9:5)?'”

It is hard for us to accept our royal personhood. We know all that we have done, and often have guilt for either our past actions or those of our culture, nation, religion, or community. That bitterness goes both ways. The misdeeds and violations done to us and our peoples also cloud our minds and keep us from hearing the call and accepting our chosenness.

This is why Jesus encouraged us to pray, “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors. (Matt 6:12)” or “Forgive us our sins, for we ourselves also forgive everyone who is indebted to us (Luke 11:4)...” It is easy to see how forgiveness is a part of the Via Negativa (The Path of Silence) where we let go and let be, but it is equally a part of the Way of Bliss or Via Positiva.

Forgiveness grows from our earthiness and is a key factor in the cosmic hospitality we are called to take part in. For the sun shines on the just and the unjust and the rain falls on both as well (Matthew 5:45) for we are all children of God. We desire good to come to our friends and our enemies alike because we understand how suffering longs to spread and afflict others.

Once we accept everyone is a child of the earth made of the same dirt and filled with the same water, we begin to see our royal personhood and live.

Chosenness is a Responsibility

Everyone is entitled to basic dignity, goodness, and life. We should all have a life free from hunger and sheltered from the harshness of the world. No one deserves to be mistreated, harmed, or neglected.

This may sound like a fuzzy, almost psychodelic dream where everyone gets along, but it is actually a call to action. Once we come alive to our own royal personhood, we see it in all others, too. It is not something that makes us special; it is a reality we have a part in co-creating.

Once we come into this newness of life, we become an enemy to racism, sexism, nationalism, homophobia, transphobia, and all the other illusions that keep us separated and in bondage to others. We rise up against the powers of greed and division that hold wealth and power in a few and seek a path to bring prosperity, health, and life to all.

I do mean all. We cannot truly live if Earth, the rivers, the air, and the rest of the environment isn’t liberated as well.

There are many paths to this awakening, but all are found within the four paths of Creation Spirituality from those born from awe, letting go, creating, and transforming the world through justice and celebration.

Listen, my siblings, sisters, and brothers. Listen for the voice of the Holy One calling your name and speaking your heart into being. Embrace your own dignity and value and do all you can to prepare a place for others to realize and live their own royal personhood. This is the great work we do in our daily lives and how we make the world a better place.

We cannot save the environment until most people want to live in the world and not flee from it when the liars, grifters, and dividers call out to them.

The Departure

We left our house at 1 am Sunday morning to make the two and a half hour journey to St Louis to catch our flight.

Maybe I should stop right here at the beginning and tell you I am terrified of flying. I was in a minor plane crash when I was a child and I have feared flying ever since. Our pilots did not realize the electrical system wasn’t on until we were in the air. It was a medium to small plane, and they had no means of contacting the tower or ensuring the landing gear was down, so we “landed” in a farm field.

Oh, and did I forget to mention I have a fear of crowds and being around people, especially now with the rampant transphobia in the world. I am so used to being judged and harassed because of that I avoid the opportunity to receive such treatment. 

So, here I am in a car on my way to get on a plane to travel through crowded airports to meet a bunch of people that I have only ever met online. Terror would have been a kindness to the whirlwind of rumination and fear assaulting me. 

Why had I agreed to this? Why was I going? How was I ever going to survive the trip?

My husband and I talked the whole drive to St Louis about the trip and my fear of flying, devising a plan to keep me from freaking out. 

The St Louis airport was a bit of a nightmare. They took my cane away from me and had me get out of my wheelchair to walk through the scanner. I fell a couple times in the scanner, but I suppose it did its thing. At this point, they pulled me aside for a pat down, which was explained to me very simply. He then proceeded with the back of his hands until he got to my genitals. He had me spread my legs, and he reached up and fiddled with my downstairs mixup a bit before pulling the front of my shorts and underwear open to inspect the contents. 

After all that I was allowed to hobble to the wheelchair and only after I was seated did they return my cane. 

I expected a violation of my personhood at the airport from stories I’ve heard, but this was worse than I expected.  

With all this wind added to the storm of emotions raging within me. I vibrated in the chair as we waited to board the plane. There was no turning back.

I couldn’t breathe as they wheeled me onto the plane. My fears danced around me with a devilish glee, singing songs and celebrating my impending doom.

The Flight

The plane took off at sunrise and we raced away from the sun, desperate to remain in the darkness where terror reigned and the shadow needn’t struggle to reach out to grab me.

Light prevailed, driving back the night, but the fears remained.

Fronts pressed in, disturbing the air and shaking the plane. To a confident flyer, I am sure it was minor turbulence, but in my panicked heart, each shake foretold my impending doom.

Shlama laki Mariam… Hail Mary, full of grace,ripe with power and healing.Hold us in your loving arms,cradle us close to your heart.We fly to your patronage…

We fly…

“Let me enter the Path of Darkness, peradventure thus shall I obtain the Light”

Like a neophyte at the temple as the first golden rays of the dawn broke over my soul, I prayed all the way to Denver and again on the second flight to Oakland. The second flight shook more than the first.

The seat belt dug into my left hip, leaving a dark bruise. Panic ruled me, but we arrived safe and prayed up.

Like Cleopatra’s procession into Rome, I returned to Oakland for the first time in too many years. They assigned three people to the wheelchair, two to push and one to march before us, proclaiming, “Out of the way, wheelchair coming through.”

Embarrassment married fear in the terminal as I covered my face and they raced us to the rental car shuttle.

As Brian sorted out the rental car, I continued to meditate and pray. Entering the way of silence, I let go of my fear and embarrassment. In the inner grove, in the ground of Alaha, I found the relief and rest I needed for my soul. With the Shekhinah guiding us all on this retreat, I knew I was in good hands, but needed to remind myself of the good graces of God, because like all humans, I am forgetful.

Our hostess, Carolyn Million, greeted us with love and grace. Though we had not met in person before, we had talked so much online; I felt at home and at ease. We were not strangers. I apologized for my disheveled traveler’s appearance, and we visited, going out for sushi and getting more personally acquainted over the delicious meal before checking into our hotel to rest up for the days of meetings ahead.

Monday

It was difficult to get up the next morning. My back and legs were already done in from traveling and the lack of sleep on the journey out. I was up for over 36 hours before I finally fell asleep in the most comfortable bed I have ever slept in. Slowly, I pieced myself together and we made our way to the host’s house for the first day of meetings.

As the sun fell behind the clouds and the meeting began, I arrived just before the last, to find a kind welcome. With open arms, we embraced in gratitude and love, Our distance melted away, in the light of community above.

We prayed with our bodies, our hearts, and our minds, Sharing dreams, concerns, and challenges of every kind. For daring to envision a future in a world so dark, We imagined a path forward, with a flame that sparked.

Our hearts yearned to awaken the world to a new dream, Words struggled to form, but we pressed on, it would seem. With a will to listen to the cry of wisdom's voice, We caught her words, and made them our choice.

While we wrestled with angels of hope, dream, and possibility, Brian prepared our lunch: a handmade, gluten-free udon noodle bowl with his signature ginger teriyaki sauce with mixed vegetables and fish. It was delicious. At first, I feared he forgot to make the noodles gluten-free because I didn’t know they were until he said something about it. We discussed our lives and our work over lunch before returning to the work we travelled together to do.

I led the group in Rabbi David A. Cooper’s beautiful and powerful middle pillar meditation to recenter ourself after lunch. We stood together as a grove of trees of life, rooted in Malkuth in the center of the earth feeling the energy of the cosmos rain down from the supernal realms. It flowed into Chokhmah, then to Binah, before filling Da’ath and flowing down the middle pillar before entering the earth and then feeling the return of the energy back up into the cosmos.

As we gathered to discuss the future's hue, Wisdom joined us, with her vision anew. Entrusted with the four paths and their mysteries to keep, Through gifts, outreach, and membership we shall reap.

Spirit mediated, helping guide our cares and concerns, Leading us towards the path where consensus turns. Each voice added to the chorus of aspiration, We teased out the way, with hopeful determination.

Raucous debate and compassionate listening intertwined, As we wrestled the Nereus beast called vision, to find A form we could barely make out, with our sight so thin, As the first day came to an end, and our vision closed in.

To the Labyrinth

In a fitting cap for the day, we all journeyed into San Francisco by ferry to add to our number and walk the labyrinth at Grace Cathedral.

If you haven’t guessed yet, I have a fear of boats and traveling over water. I know, I know, so many fears. I said several prayers as we waited to board the ferry, calling out to Mary, to Lugh, and to Manann to give me strength and peace. They answered my prayers better than I could have imagined.

The bay was rough and the ferry rocked quite a bit, but I never got seasick. The most amazing part was that I never felt fear. I enjoyed the ride and might even say that I loved it.

We took an Uber or a Lyft from the Embarcadero to Grace Cathedral, I cannot remember which, and Mary Ann Wamhoff taught us how to walk the labyrinth.

I was so tired so I walked the circle around the labyrinth chanting the Tehora he:

“Elohi neshama shenetatabi, tehora he.” “My God, the soul which you placed in me, she is pure.”

Then I sat while ev…

The Departure

We left our house at 1 am Sunday morning to make the two and a half hour journey to St Louis to catch our flight.

Maybe I should stop right here at the beginning and tell you I am terrified of flying. I was in a minor plane crash when I was a child and I have feared flying ever since. Our pilots did not realize the electrical system wasn’t on until we were in the air. It was a medium to small plane, and they had no means of contacting the tower or ensuring the landing gear was down, so we “landed” in a farm field.

Oh, and did I forget to mention I have a fear of crowds and being around people, especially now with the rampant transphobia in the world. I am so used to being judged and harassed because of that I avoid the opportunity to receive such treatment. 

So, here I am in a car on my way to get on a plane to travel through crowded airports to meet a bunch of people that I have only ever met online. Terror would have been a kindness to the whirlwind of rumination and fear assaulting me. 

Why had I agreed to this? Why was I going? How was I ever going to survive the trip?

My husband and I talked the whole drive to St Louis about the trip and my fear of flying, devising a plan to keep me from freaking out. 

The St Louis airport was a bit of a nightmare. They took my cane away from me and had me get out of my wheelchair to walk through the scanner. I fell a couple times in the scanner, but I suppose it did its thing. At this point, they pulled me aside for a pat down, which was explained to me very simply. He then proceeded with the back of his hands until he got to my genitals. He had me spread my legs, and he reached up and fiddled with my downstairs mixup a bit before pulling the front of my shorts and underwear open to inspect the contents. 

After all that I was allowed to hobble to the wheelchair and only after I was seated did they return my cane. 

I expected a violation of my personhood at the airport from stories I’ve heard, but this was worse than I expected.  

With all this wind added to the storm of emotions raging within me. I vibrated in the chair as we waited to board the plane. There was no turning back.

I couldn’t breathe as they wheeled me onto the plane. My fears danced around me with a devilish glee, singing songs and celebrating my impending doom.

The Flight

The plane took off at sunrise and we raced away from the sun, desperate to remain in the darkness where terror reigned and the shadow needn’t struggle to reach out to grab me.

Light prevailed, driving back the night, but the fears remained.

Fronts pressed in, disturbing the air and shaking the plane. To a confident flyer, I am sure it was minor turbulence, but in my panicked heart, each shake foretold my impending doom.

Shlama laki Mariam… Hail Mary, full of grace,ripe with power and healing.Hold us in your loving arms,cradle us close to your heart.We fly to your patronage…

We fly…

“Let me enter the Path of Darkness, peradventure thus shall I obtain the Light”

Like a neophyte at the temple as the first golden rays of the dawn broke over my soul, I prayed all the way to Denver and again on the second flight to Oakland. The second flight shook more than the first.

The seat belt dug into my left hip, leaving a dark bruise. Panic ruled me, but we arrived safe and prayed up.

Like Cleopatra’s procession into Rome, I returned to Oakland for the first time in too many years. They assigned three people to the wheelchair, two to push and one to march before us, proclaiming, “Out of the way, wheelchair coming through.”

Embarrassment married fear in the terminal as I covered my face and they raced us to the rental car shuttle.

As Brian sorted out the rental car, I continued to meditate and pray. Entering the way of silence, I let go of my fear and embarrassment. In the inner grove, in the ground of Alaha, I found the relief and rest I needed for my soul. With the Shekhinah guiding us all on this retreat, I knew I was in good hands, but needed to remind myself of the good graces of God, because like all humans, I am forgetful.

Our hostess, Carolyn Million, greeted us with love and grace. Though we had not met in person before, we had talked so much online; I felt at home and at ease. We were not strangers. I apologized for my disheveled traveler’s appearance, and we visited, going out for sushi and getting more personally acquainted over the delicious meal before checking into our hotel to rest up for the days of meetings ahead.

Monday

It was difficult to get up the next morning. My back and legs were already done in from traveling and the lack of sleep on the journey out. I was up for over 36 hours before I finally fell asleep in the most comfortable bed I have ever slept in. Slowly, I pieced myself together and we made our way to the host’s house for the first day of meetings.

As the sun fell behind the clouds and the meeting began, I arrived just before the last, to find a kind welcome. With open arms, we embraced in gratitude and love, Our distance melted away, in the light of community above.

We prayed with our bodies, our hearts, and our minds, Sharing dreams, concerns, and challenges of every kind. For daring to envision a future in a world so dark, We imagined a path forward, with a flame that sparked.

Our hearts yearned to awaken the world to a new dream, Words struggled to form, but we pressed on, it would seem. With a will to listen to the cry of wisdom's voice, We caught her words, and made them our choice.

While we wrestled with angels of hope, dream, and possibility, Brian prepared our lunch: a handmade, gluten-free udon noodle bowl with his signature ginger teriyaki sauce with mixed vegetables and fish. It was delicious. At first, I feared he forgot to make the noodles gluten-free because I didn’t know they were until he said something about it. We discussed our lives and our work over lunch before returning to the work we travelled together to do.

I led the group in Rabbi David A. Cooper’s beautiful and powerful middle pillar meditation to recenter ourself after lunch. We stood together as a grove of trees of life, rooted in Malkuth in the center of the earth feeling the energy of the cosmos rain down from the supernal realms. It flowed into Chokhmah, then to Binah, before filling Da’ath and flowing down the middle pillar before entering the earth and then feeling the return of the energy back up into the cosmos.

As we gathered to discuss the future's hue, Wisdom joined us, with her vision anew. Entrusted with the four paths and their mysteries to keep, Through gifts, outreach, and membership we shall reap.

Spirit mediated, helping guide our cares and concerns, Leading us towards the path where consensus turns. Each voice added to the chorus of aspiration, We teased out the way, with hopeful determination.

Raucous debate and compassionate listening intertwined, As we wrestled the Nereus beast called vision, to find A form we could barely make out, with our sight so thin, As the first day came to an end, and our vision closed in.

To the Labyrinth

In a fitting cap for the day, we all journeyed into San Francisco by ferry to add to our number and walk the labyrinth at Grace Cathedral.

If you haven’t guessed yet, I have a fear of boats and traveling over water. I know, I know, so many fears. I said several prayers as we waited to board the ferry, calling out to Mary, to Lugh, and to Manann to give me strength and peace. They answered my prayers better than I could have imagined.

The bay was rough and the ferry rocked quite a bit, but I never got seasick. The most amazing part was that I never felt fear. I enjoyed the ride and might even say that I loved it.

We took an Uber or a Lyft from the Embarcadero to Grace Cathedral, I cannot remember which, and Mary Ann Wamhoff taught us how to walk the labyrinth.

I was so tired so I walked the circle around the labyrinth chanting the Tehora he:

“Elohi neshama shenetatabi, tehora he.” “My God, the soul which you placed in me, she is pure.”

Then I sat while everyone else walked the labyrinth reading the clouds. Three times I saw a fire chalice open in the clouds to bless us and I read four messages for those there. As I read each message, I asked who it was for, and either a bird flew over only one person or a bubble popped over someone.

I hope you can see them in the pictures. As the others walked the labyrinth, a man set up at the bottom of the steps leading up to the cathedral with a bucket and a hoop between two poles. When he raised the hoop out of the bucket, the wind carried bubbles of all sizes up into the air and over the labyrinth.

It was a magical surprise that added to the beauty of the moment.

I have not felt such a deep peace for a long time. It was a beautiful day. There air was just cold enough to numb my knees and back and keep them from hurting too much while we were in the city.

After the labyrinth, we went to Chinatown to eat dinner. The food was delicious, but I wish it had a bit more heat. Our server warned us that the food was very spicy, so you could choose from four levels of heat: none, mild, medium, and hot. Because we wanted to not be distracted by the heat so we could visit, we ordered medium heat, which I would call mild at best, but it tasted so good, I quickly forgave it.

The conversation was great, and after an adventure to get back to our cars then back to the hotel.

My legs spasmed the moment I laid down, but I quickly got them to calm down and drifted off to sleep.

Tuesday

I didn’t wear exactly what I wanted to on Tuesday. Originally, I was going to wear the yellow top in the picture with a burgundy wine skirt, but it was colder than I expected and raining, so I layered up and wore the heavier, black skirt to keep warm. My hair was a disaster the entire trip, but I figured it only manifested the wildness I felt in my heart so I didn’t fret about it too much.

I felt like a feral animal around all these educated and cultured people, but I learned Creation Spirituality in the wild with Brian, experience, and a few books to guide me. My appearance was the least of my concerns. They accepted me for me and that was all that mattered.

The path was found, but now to tread,From one generation to the next, wisdom spread.Many matters at hand, we discussed with fervor,Healing waters of words, flowed on further.

At times, the stream rose, threatening to sweep us away,But never too far, from the path, did we stray.With open hearts and minds, we set our sights on goals,Yet, our vision foggy, and unknown language stalls.

The way we should go, stands guard before us,Unique paths to many, yet the goal never lost.Words escape us, as we grapple with the new,As we move forward, towards the goal in view.

Brian made a quinoa salad with a medley of olives, artichokes, and oranges, topped with calamari and fish. I will remember it for such a long time and hope to have it again soon. The interplay of the olives and oranges made a magic that haunts my pallet and I long to have it again.

In our final session, an elder spoke,With clear vision, he named the path bespoke.We organized ourselves to spread the message wide,Gathering those who hear, to walk beside.

Merging the old with the new, we found our way,Reaching towards the future, where our purpose lay.Mission defined, vision held, everything clear,The path before us, now devoid of fear.

Priorities set, we rested in the work well done,So much accomplished in so little time spun.Collecting the words, we set our course anew,With understanding, of the paths we must pursue.

Next steps discussed, present fears and future lead,Discernment of the group, to do what's best, we agreed.A mantle offered, held in prayer, I will serve,As needed, my faith in the paths we preserve.

Dinner with Matthew Fox

For dinner, Brian made a play on fish and chips with a roasted root vegetables and gluten-free panko crusted fish and fruit dessert that has yet to be named. It had a crushed pecan crust and layers of banana held together by one layer of strawberry compote and another of blue berry compote. It was phenomenal.

Matthew Fox arrived early and we all talked while munching on a roasted sweet potato and goat cheese hors d'oeuvre. He asked about the work each of us was doing, and when it came to me, I talked a little about the Whisper in the Dark series I will be coming out with soon.

The others filled him in on the other things I do from the music to the art, because, well, I don’t like talking about myself. I did an oracle card reading for everyone and wasn’t surprised that everyone pulled a card the reflected their personality and mission perfect.

Matt pulled the Archangel Gabriel, and I thought I saw him blush a bit as I explained the meaning of the card which described his mission perfectly.

Over dinner, he told us about the books he is working on and spent a lot of time talking to Brian about the food, the restaurant, and the spirituality of cooking and hospitality.

I was happy to be able to talk more to Michael, and in fact my only regret from the trip is that I didn’t get to spend more time with him and Randy. Two dinners together wasn’t enough.

Matt brought books to give to us, and put my head down not wanting to impose.

As he talked about Nature, Man, and Society in the Twelfth Century by M. D. Chenu and what he called the renaissance that worked, I looked up and saw both Patty and Diedre point at me and mouth the words, “That is for you.”

When Matt asked who wanted the book, Diedre spoke up and said it was for me and I turned red in the face. I explained to Matt the new renaissance project we had been working on, and he smiled and said, “Oh, yes, this is for you. then. There is a chapter in this book that explains how the renaissance started from the ground up.”

I accepted the book.

He also brought several copies of his own book, Julian of Norwich: Wisdom in a Time of Pandemic — and Beyond. I already owned the book and as much as I wanted a signed copy, I didn’t speak up. I already received a book and didn’t want to appear greedy.

Two of the three copies were snapped up. As the meal ended and we were about to go our separate ways, I noticed that there was one copy left and mustered up the confidence to ask for one.

As we were milling around about to leave, Patty asked me what Matt wrote in the Chenu book, and I told her I didn’t think to have him sign it since it wasn’t his book. She explained to me that it was about lineage. Chenu taught Fox, and Fox taught me through his work and gave me the

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This is a question of semantics. If I wanted to be pedantic about this I would also say its is a matter of semiotics, epistemology, and theology, but the real problem is the semantic question that we are struggling with today.

So many people have defined themselves as “spiritual, but not religious” that we are driving a wedge deeper and deeper between the two modes of thinking, acting, and believing. This is a form of tribalism that does not serve the question at hand, but is very much at the heart of the issues facing people of faith.

The catalyst for this post was a video by Foolish Fish about perennialism, religion, spirituality and Jesus. I need to say from the start that while I mostly agree with Denis and everything he says in this video, I cannot redeem the term Perennialism like he does, and in fact, I have similar feelings about the word Christian.

If you want to see Denis’ video before we proceed, here it is. I want to stress that my disagreement with it is a semantic one, but when it comes to faith, spirituality, and religion, semantics are vital. Since we cannot share experience with others, we have to have a common vocabulary or at the very least a stipulated vocabulary so we can discuss these issues and experiences.

I want to enter into conversation with Denis Poisson, because I respect his position, but I do not feel as comfortable with the term Perennialism as he does. Part of this is because I prefer the term Deep Ecumenism from my own Creation Spirituality practice, and because I fear that associating with perennialism might lead people into the darker sides of that movement.

I have chosen to use Denis’s name rather than the channel name because I fear that the word Foolish in Foolish Fish might distract from the points I want to make and might unfairly bias my readers. I have nothing but respect for Denis and his work and I want to be as fair as I can be.

Denis mentions the discussion between Dr. Justin Sledge from Esoterica and Dr Dan Attrell from The Modern Hermeticist. They discussed the Dark Side of Perennialism (part 1 and part 2). I will not rehash all, or even most of the points brought up for or against perennialism from any of these three videos and I would encourage you to watch the videos if you want to dig deeper into these issues.

The Problem of Labels

It is possible to identify with and use a label without accepting, redeeming, or apologizing for the harm done by people who have used that label. When I don’t want to go into a long winded explanation of my own faith I still tell people that I am a former Roman Catholic who is still Christian, because those words give a simple explanation that is mostly true. I still have to disavow the abuses of both the Roman Catholic and the Christian Churches, but the label is still useful.

When I am willing to get into it I tell people that I am a wayfarer who walks the four paths of Creation Spirituality, but that takes a lot more unpacking.

Why do I prefer to call myself a wayfarer to a christian?

I do not want to appear to endorse the long legacy of imperialism, slavery, misogyny, queerphobia, and harm that the institutional christian church has wrought on the world for the last two thousand years. I do not want to include myself in with the christian fascists that are doing so much harm to the country and world right now. I also see it as a way to connect with the earliest followers of Jesus who referred to the life Jesus taught as the Way.

Like Denis, I see Jesus as my teacher and everything else as commentary on his teachings and not even close to being on the same level as his teachings.

My disassociation with the legacy of Christianity is not a rejection of my faith or people who still call themselves christians despite all the baggage that comes with it. I don’t see the word Christian as redeemable. It is soaked in too much blood and wrongdoing, and I would rather do the work Jesus called us to do than fight to redeem a word that has betrayed its own meaning.

Is Perennialism redeemable?

For me, no. Perennialism has a colonizing tendency baked into it by so many of its early and even recent proponents that I don’t see a way to redeem it. While it is true that it does not have the bloodstained legacy that christianity does. It also doesn't have the reputation for colonizing other people’s faiths that I feel it deserves. I do not want to associate with it out of concern of accidentally promoting those aspects of it to people who might adopt it unaware of its darker history.

Like with christianity, my condemnation of perennialism is not a condemnation of everyone who finds meaning in it. I used to identify as a perennialist and resonate with all of the arguments Denis makes for it. If he wants to call himself a perennialist, more power to him. This is more of an argument for why I can’t than why he shouldn’t.

The biggest problem that I have with the perennialist approach to spirituality is the innate power imbalance at the heart of its practice which I worry can misdirect, misuse, and even abuse the wisdom it is trying to hold dear.

Standpoint Theory and Perennialism

“Standpoint theory contends that humans produce knowledge through power relations that construct and divide social groups into dominant and nondominant categories. Experiences within those categories produce different, unequal opportunities that cultivate distinct ways of knowing and being. Nondominant group members can provide more complete knowledge about reality than dominant ones because they understand the world from both perspectives.”

Brenda J. Allen

Perennialism is a dominant group harvesting wisdom from a nondominant one for its own use and purposes. Whether they are approaching the nondominant from a European school of philosophy, theosophy, mystagogy, or an other religious framework, they are not coming from an indigenous or traditional point of view. In such a mode, misunderstandings, misappropriations, and outright appropriation are not only likely, but to be expected.

In interacting with any faith that is not our own, this sort of dominant/nondominant framework comes into play, and must be acknowledged as a warning sign on the path.

In Deep Ecumenism, we listen to and learn from those who actually live the faith and practice. We approach and pay special attention to their mode of understanding and always defer to the the understanding of those we are in conversation with since we are visiting their faith tradition and not superimposing our own.

In my own practice of Qabalah, I root my practice in the western esoteric practice of the tradition that has grown up over the centuries. While I do pay attention to Jewish practitioners of Kabbalah since my practice has roots in theirs, but like many others, I make attributions clear through the spelling conventions that have grown up within the tradition. I know that my practice is not the same as the Hasidim, or other Jewish Kabbalists, and any wisdom I glean from them must be carefully collected and translated into the Qabalistic tradition I do practice. The important part of this process is to strive to understand their perspective and not to misrepresent my understanding or practice for theirs.

Like I said, this is a semantic problem.

In any interfaith or interspiritual practice, it is important to bring to mind the barriers that make it more difficult for us to understand or accept the wisdom of others. I was raised as a white, male, conservative, christian, capitalist, American. While I am not, and never have been male, these frameworks of understanding were embedded into my mind since birth and it can be difficult to see those biases that form the bedrock of so many of our world views.

As a nonbinary person, I see both the dominant and nondominant perspectives. As a leftist, I have not forgotten the conservative framings of my youth. The same is true for my socialist/capitalist, celtic/white, wayfarer/christian frames. I do not have this with many other faiths. I did pr…

This is a question of semantics. If I wanted to be pedantic about this I would also say its is a matter of semiotics, epistemology, and theology, but the real problem is the semantic question that we are struggling with today.

So many people have defined themselves as “spiritual, but not religious” that we are driving a wedge deeper and deeper between the two modes of thinking, acting, and believing. This is a form of tribalism that does not serve the question at hand, but is very much at the heart of the issues facing people of faith.

The catalyst for this post was a video by Foolish Fish about perennialism, religion, spirituality and Jesus. I need to say from the start that while I mostly agree with Denis and everything he says in this video, I cannot redeem the term Perennialism like he does, and in fact, I have similar feelings about the word Christian.

If you want to see Denis’ video before we proceed, here it is. I want to stress that my disagreement with it is a semantic one, but when it comes to faith, spirituality, and religion, semantics are vital. Since we cannot share experience with others, we have to have a common vocabulary or at the very least a stipulated vocabulary so we can discuss these issues and experiences.

I want to enter into conversation with Denis Poisson, because I respect his position, but I do not feel as comfortable with the term Perennialism as he does. Part of this is because I prefer the term Deep Ecumenism from my own Creation Spirituality practice, and because I fear that associating with perennialism might lead people into the darker sides of that movement.

I have chosen to use Denis’s name rather than the channel name because I fear that the word Foolish in Foolish Fish might distract from the points I want to make and might unfairly bias my readers. I have nothing but respect for Denis and his work and I want to be as fair as I can be.

Denis mentions the discussion between Dr. Justin Sledge from Esoterica and Dr Dan Attrell from The Modern Hermeticist. They discussed the Dark Side of Perennialism (part 1 and part 2). I will not rehash all, or even most of the points brought up for or against perennialism from any of these three videos and I would encourage you to watch the videos if you want to dig deeper into these issues.

The Problem of Labels

It is possible to identify with and use a label without accepting, redeeming, or apologizing for the harm done by people who have used that label. When I don’t want to go into a long winded explanation of my own faith I still tell people that I am a former Roman Catholic who is still Christian, because those words give a simple explanation that is mostly true. I still have to disavow the abuses of both the Roman Catholic and the Christian Churches, but the label is still useful.

When I am willing to get into it I tell people that I am a wayfarer who walks the four paths of Creation Spirituality, but that takes a lot more unpacking.

Why do I prefer to call myself a wayfarer to a christian?

I do not want to appear to endorse the long legacy of imperialism, slavery, misogyny, queerphobia, and harm that the institutional christian church has wrought on the world for the last two thousand years. I do not want to include myself in with the christian fascists that are doing so much harm to the country and world right now. I also see it as a way to connect with the earliest followers of Jesus who referred to the life Jesus taught as the Way.

Like Denis, I see Jesus as my teacher and everything else as commentary on his teachings and not even close to being on the same level as his teachings.

My disassociation with the legacy of Christianity is not a rejection of my faith or people who still call themselves christians despite all the baggage that comes with it. I don’t see the word Christian as redeemable. It is soaked in too much blood and wrongdoing, and I would rather do the work Jesus called us to do than fight to redeem a word that has betrayed its own meaning.

Is Perennialism redeemable?

For me, no. Perennialism has a colonizing tendency baked into it by so many of its early and even recent proponents that I don’t see a way to redeem it. While it is true that it does not have the bloodstained legacy that christianity does. It also doesn't have the reputation for colonizing other people’s faiths that I feel it deserves. I do not want to associate with it out of concern of accidentally promoting those aspects of it to people who might adopt it unaware of its darker history.

Like with christianity, my condemnation of perennialism is not a condemnation of everyone who finds meaning in it. I used to identify as a perennialist and resonate with all of the arguments Denis makes for it. If he wants to call himself a perennialist, more power to him. This is more of an argument for why I can’t than why he shouldn’t.

The biggest problem that I have with the perennialist approach to spirituality is the innate power imbalance at the heart of its practice which I worry can misdirect, misuse, and even abuse the wisdom it is trying to hold dear.

Standpoint Theory and Perennialism

“Standpoint theory contends that humans produce knowledge through power relations that construct and divide social groups into dominant and nondominant categories. Experiences within those categories produce different, unequal opportunities that cultivate distinct ways of knowing and being. Nondominant group members can provide more complete knowledge about reality than dominant ones because they understand the world from both perspectives.”

Brenda J. Allen

Perennialism is a dominant group harvesting wisdom from a nondominant one for its own use and purposes. Whether they are approaching the nondominant from a European school of philosophy, theosophy, mystagogy, or an other religious framework, they are not coming from an indigenous or traditional point of view. In such a mode, misunderstandings, misappropriations, and outright appropriation are not only likely, but to be expected.

In interacting with any faith that is not our own, this sort of dominant/nondominant framework comes into play, and must be acknowledged as a warning sign on the path.

In Deep Ecumenism, we listen to and learn from those who actually live the faith and practice. We approach and pay special attention to their mode of understanding and always defer to the the understanding of those we are in conversation with since we are visiting their faith tradition and not superimposing our own.

In my own practice of Qabalah, I root my practice in the western esoteric practice of the tradition that has grown up over the centuries. While I do pay attention to Jewish practitioners of Kabbalah since my practice has roots in theirs, but like many others, I make attributions clear through the spelling conventions that have grown up within the tradition. I know that my practice is not the same as the Hasidim, or other Jewish Kabbalists, and any wisdom I glean from them must be carefully collected and translated into the Qabalistic tradition I do practice. The important part of this process is to strive to understand their perspective and not to misrepresent my understanding or practice for theirs.

Like I said, this is a semantic problem.

In any interfaith or interspiritual practice, it is important to bring to mind the barriers that make it more difficult for us to understand or accept the wisdom of others. I was raised as a white, male, conservative, christian, capitalist, American. While I am not, and never have been male, these frameworks of understanding were embedded into my mind since birth and it can be difficult to see those biases that form the bedrock of so many of our world views.

As a nonbinary person, I see both the dominant and nondominant perspectives. As a leftist, I have not forgotten the conservative framings of my youth. The same is true for my socialist/capitalist, celtic/white, wayfarer/christian frames. I do not have this with many other faiths. I did practice Buddhism for a time, and once contemplated converting to Judaism. This does mean that I have a better understanding of Buddhism than I do of Judaism, but that will always be the perspective of a convert.

Through this life experience, I can see the difference of my understanding of Christianity or Buddhism than any other religion or faith. That difference in experience gives me a very different experience to these faiths that I would never acquire through merely reading these texts, or having conversations with practitioners of those faiths.

Deep Ecumenism invites us to enter this kind of interspiritual mode with these traditions other than our own and recognizes the distinction of the depth of wisdom we have access to through such practices and encounters.

Perennialism, as a whole, developed from a idea that to know the good is to do the good. Simply reading the texts of others can give the same understanding as the community that generated those texts. I hate to sound so defensive, but I am not saying that this is Denis’ point of view or belief. He has an understanding that wisdom needs to be embodied to be attained, but Perennialism as a whole does not.

Does any of this really matter?

Yes and no.

Do I really care if Denis or anyone else call themselves perennialist? No, especially when they distance themselves from the more harmful aspects of the tradition like he does.

My biggest concern is, as always, that we do not accidentally point people in a direction that will do harm rather than good.

I no longer call myself a perennialist for that reason and will continue to try to persuade people to do the same thing.

The Challenge Jesus made

When you pray, you shall not be as the hypocrites, for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men. Most certainly, I tell you, they have received their reward. But you, when you pray, enter into your inner room, and having shut your door, pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you openly. In praying, don’t use vain repetitions as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard for their much speaking. Therefore don’t be like them, for your Father knows what things you need before you ask him.

Matthew 6:5-8

In the end, I want to encourage you like Denis did to take Jesus up on his challenge. When we connect to Spirit in the quiet places within us, we have access to so much wisdom and strength. Remember always, the One who sees in secret rewards openly what we seek in secret. Those who talk so much about their prayers and rituals receive the acclaim of their audience, and that is all.

Enter your secret place and pray.

Oh taste and see that Yahweh is good.    Blessed is the [one] who takes refuge in him.

Psalm 34:8

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Black lives matter. Don't be deceived by those who seek money and power through religion and division. They are not from God.