Meditations for Queer Femmes –  Ground, A Prayer from Miel Rose

In the misty, rainy morning the dog and I walked in the woods, him in his little yellow raincoat, me in my femme-made mask (thank you, Jeannette!). Twice we passed trees with little build-ups of bubbly froth at their bases, sap rising, I think, and coming out of openings in the trunks. It was so beautiful in the quiet, drinking woods. I was so grateful to be outside, to be surrounded by trees and birds and the hidden, busy lives of so many creatures. I wanted to repost Miel’s gorgeous prayer today, to remind us all of those connections, those blessings.

Ground

May I never lose my connection

With the ground under my feet

May gravity hold me firmly in my body

As I walk my path

Anchored solidly to the Earth

Roots pushing through soil

Nourished by the fertile darkness

Let my chord drop down

Down

Through underground rivers

Through layers of bedrock

Through oceans of magma

Secure in the Core

Connected to the Center

Held and blessed by the Earth

Overflowing with gratitude

Miel Rose is a witch and healer living and practicing in Western, Mass. Check out her etsy store, Flame and Honeycomb: an eclectic line of magical offerings, including sacred votives, herbal skincare, magical honey sweetened chocolates, hand embroidered art pieces and more!

 Every Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes, in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women.

At the Total Femme, my intention is to post three times a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy-Dingy Wednesday on Wednesday and Femme Friday on Friday. Rather than play catch-up in a stressful fashion on those weeks when life prevents posting, I have decided to just move gaily forward: if I miss a Monday, the next post will be on Wednesday, and so on. Thank you, little bottle of antibiotics for inspiring me in this! (“…if it’s almost time for the next dose, skip the missed dose and continue your regular dosing schedule. Don’t take a double dose to make up for a missed one.”) As I undergo treatment for breast cancer, however, I’m just going to post whenever I can manage.

 

 

 

Meditations for Queer Femmes – Healthy

The other day, Tex reminded me that Bayer bought Monsanto recently. The stunning implications of this are that now one big corporation can handily sell you genetically modified foods that make you sick and then sell you drugs to “heal” you. The powers that be love to see us all sick, addicted, and isolated – it suits their purposes to a T. Oh, and those powers like us to feel completely overwhelmed, too, which is how I start to feel pretty much daily when I hear the latest disaster news, and there is a lot of disaster news. Not to mention my own human challenges with daily living, especially my 57-year old body and all it’s stuff – combinded together, as my children used to say when they were tots, all of those things weigh very heavily.

But wait, there’s help! If you just do enough research yourself online, then find an expert, and you spend enough time and money, there is bound to be a solution! For example, is your issue something to do with histamine? Gluten? SIBO? You can find untold numbers of quick fix stories on the internet: “Once I figured out my problem was X, I did A B and C, as dictated by NAME OF PERSON who is an expert and whose advice I followed and products I bought, and NOW I’M FINE!”

As someone who inevitably has all the symptoms described for all the different things that can be wrong, these kinds of stories hold a great deal of appeal. I have spent a lot of time chasing after different diagnoses and putting a lot of eggs in various health regime baskets, some of which were helpful and some of which did actual harm.

Our bodies and our health are not beloved by the mainstream. We are not seen and treasured by so many of those in the medical profession. We are baffling and perhaps even dangerous with our strange symptoms and “lifestyle choices”. We move from our small towns to larger cities in the hopes that we might find community and sometimes we do and sometimes we don’t. We track down doctors who are said to “get it”, and sometimes they do and sometimes they don’t. We make it through another day. And another. How do we move in a healthy way towards being healthy? What does “healthy” even mean?

We are not separate from our bodies. Our wonderful, giant brains are part of our bodies. We don’t exist outside of ourselves. Our bodies are genius, always trying to heal, always moving towards balance. It’s all there inside us, if we can only still our thoughts enough to reunite ourselves with ourselves. When we are in health quandaries, is it possible that our own prayers and intuition might steer us in a better direction than endless hours on the internet (or that hours on the internet are better spent when following prayers and intuition)?

Poet Wendell Barry goes and lies down “where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds”*, 12-step members attend meetings and strive for progress not perfection, Buddhists work on equanimity and contacting inner tenderness, and you might sing or dance or say the prayer your Gramps taught you when you were only little and he was your shining star. We all need a nature/spirit connection, and the good news is that there are so many of them, all around us, always. We queer femmes have been wounded by organized religion, sure enough, but our spirituality is our own and it is housed within us. Only we know what it looks like and how deeply it comforts us.

Today, my spiritual femme sisters, sit quietly a moment and feel. Hear. Know. It’s there, your connection to connection, love, gratitude, sweetness. We cannot always live in harmony and joy with others or even ourselves, but we can return there, again and again until it becomes a habit, until our habit is to reach for calm, reach for our exact and exquisite place in the All, until we are us again, filled and empty and ready to heal.

*”The Peace of Wild Things” by Wendell Barry

Every Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, kind, and wise and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women.

At the Total Femme, my intention is to post three times a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy-Dingy Wednesday on Wednesday and Femme Friday on Friday. Rather than play catch-up in a stressful fashion on those weeks when life prevents posting, I have decided to just move gaily forward: if I miss a Monday, the next post will be on Wednesday, and so on. Thank you, little bottle of antibiotics for inspiring me in this! (“…if it’s almost time for the next dose, skip the missed dose and continue your regular dosing schedule. Don’t take a double dose to make up for a missed one.”)

 

 

Published in: on February 25, 2019 at 9:58 AM  Leave a Comment  
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Meditations for Queer Femmes – Lay It Down

I recently began attending Al-Anon meetings due to the struggles of one of our sons with drugs and alcohol. It’s been an incredibly volatile time for me emotionally. While I am so grateful to be able to find loving help, I am devastated by the implications of my femme ass sitting in meeting after meeting: my baby is in trouble; my baby is in trouble.

In one of the meetings, someone said, “I think Al-Anon works for all isms.” Heterosexism, too? I wonder… Along with feeling powerless over substances, I for sure feel powerless over homophobia and every form of industrialized oppression out there. Talk about something being bigger than me! Talk about something causing my life to become unmanageable! Talk about it being way too much for me on my own. Love may be love, but it’s not always – or ever? – enough, and it certainly wasn’t enough for my observant, creative, deep-feeling child not to internalize the cultural and social toxins to very bad effect. And really, are any of us undamaged?

Right after Trump was elected, my butch, Tex, attended a conference where Ayanna Pressley was the keynote speaker. In 2009, Ayanna was the first woman of color to be elected to the Boston City Council. At the conference, she spoke about how she managed to re-enter the fray, every blessed day: every morning she prays and meditates, and every Sunday she goes to church. She urged the shocked and mourning audience to embrace a spiritual practice, to find some way of laying things down. When Tex thanked her for her words later, she asked if she could give her a hug. Of course, Tex said yes, and it was a very sweet hug; a generous and loving gift. We agreed that Ayanna recognized that my butch husband, like herself, is a visible target for bigots, and is someone in need of comfort and love.

We queer femmes are not always visible targets of homophobia, but we are harmed just as deeply by the hate. When we are assumed participants in foul talk or behavior, when we are ignored, when our lives are presumed to be “queer lite” or some kind of experiment or joke, our souls take a hit. Over and over.

I was born in 1962, and in my heart, I am still a hippy child, and my spirituality has to do with nature, natural systems, warm fuzzies, and community. Alas, my intellect, formed in the “nothin’ matters and what if it did” 80s, fights me every step of the way on this. How and when can I lower my cynical shields to find the Bigger that Ayanna spoke about and wished for my butch, that Al-Anon names “Higher Power” and “the God as you understand Him”?

I don’t exactly know, and perhaps you don’t either, sweet femme sisters. Or perhaps you do, and you find solace in a queer femme spiritual practice that blesses you and those around you. For me, in the way of these things, as I try and stay open to what I need, I just came across this quote by the artist Mark Adams: “Our encounters with nature – and animals in particular – reveal in us a rootlessness that is essentially human. Ecologists say that nature is partitioned into niches, roles that each animal or plant is born to fulfill – not exactly a purpose, but a kind of appropriateness for each life in nature. For us, this is a source of envy and awe. Catbirds, bees, toads – they call and navigate with certainty while we spin in bewilderment.”

I’m beginning to understand that it’s ok to recognize the spin. It’s ok to say, “I am so fucking bewildered!” It’s ok to lay it down, even if you don’t know exactly where and how. It’s ok to ask for help, even if you don’t believe in anything other than pain. If that’s all that’s been real to you. All and every one of these things and more are ok, because that is how we begin to heal.

May you continue to heal today. May you allow yourself to dip a toe or throw yourself bodily into the flow of love and spirit and now and art and be. May you find comfort, even if it’s just a glimmer in the corner of your eye. It is there. You are whole. You are beautiful. You are not alone.

Lay it down.

Every Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes, in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women.

At the Total Femme, my intention is to post three times a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy-Dingy Wednesday on Wednesday and Femme Friday on Friday. Rather than play catch-up in a stressful fashion on those weeks when life prevents posting, I have decided to just move gaily forward: if I miss a Monday, the next post will be on Wednesday, and so on. Thank you, little bottle of antibiotics for inspiring me in this! (“…if it’s almost time for the next dose, skip the missed dose and continue your regular dosing schedule. Don’t take a double dose to make up for a missed one.”)

 

Meditations for Queer Femmes – Elemental

Driving down to Provincetown this weekend, I was briefly behind a work truck from a company that does clean up after damage by storms, fires and flood. We don’t have earthquakes here (yet), but I bet that would be included if this was California. All four elements, each one with its own particular abilities.

Although I am not usually a fan of fantasy, Tex did get me to read Laurie J. Mark’s Elemental Logic series (Fire Logic, Water Logic, Earth Logic, Air Logic), which I thoroughly enjoyed because they’re so wonderfully queer and loving and political, with a sense of humor to boot. After seeing that truck, I thought about Laurie’s books and her take on the properties of each elemental logic. Then I started wondering what element I am most connected to.

I’m thinking air, or more particularly, wind. I just love a windy day! It refreshes me and jazzes me up, makes me feel present and alive. I also grew up practicing tornado drills and know the power wind can have. And more mundanely, if I don’t cover up my ears but good when I’m out in the wind, I will totally get an earache. The destruction caused by floods and storms and fires and earthquakes are hardly personal on the part of the elements; the elements just are. It’s up to us to draw our own conclusions. When we pay attention, learn and listen, keep lightfooted and inventive instead of rigid and stubborn, we can learn how to work with the elements. This is something we desperately need to do on a large scale around climate change, but here I would like to talk about how we can also learn so much about ourselves.

If I deny the power of the wind and go out without covering up my ears, I’ll get sick. If I prepare myself, however, I can learn so much. The wind circulates, doing exactly what it is meant to do. If I pay attention, this element has a lot to teach me about my own strengths and weaknesses, just as it can power a windmill or blow down entire neighborhoods. For example this ear situation: I interpret that to mean that I don’t always do the best job of listening to myself, and when I don’t, it spills over into not being able to pay attention to what’s around me or to listen very well to others. That’s a lesson I can work with.

I know as a queer femme, there are many times I have felt isolated, invisible and without a working community lifting me up and lovingly holding me. Stepping out into a glorious windy day can blow some of that burden right into the stratosphere, because I am reminded that we queer femmes are part of the natural systems, just like every other human being.

What connects you to those natural systems? Which element seduces you into a more spiritual and holy place? Which of the four calls you, teaches and inspires you, humbles you, uplifts you?

Whichever it is, the next time you are worshipping at that particular altar, know that I am there with you, wearing a good warm hat and leaning into the fierce and cleansing wind. Queer femmes, all, today remember the elements and open to their lessons. Allow them to bring you closer to the heart of love.

Every Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes, in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women.

At the Total Femme, my intention is to post three times a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy-Dingy Wednesday on Wednesday and Femme Friday on Friday. Rather than play catch-up in a stressful fashion on those weeks when life prevents posting, I have decided to just move gaily forward: if I miss a Monday, the next post will be on Wednesday, and so on. Thank you, little bottle of antibiotics for inspiring me in this! (“…if it’s almost time for the next dose, skip the missed dose and continue your regular dosing schedule. Don’t take a double dose to make up for a missed one.”)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meditations for Queer Femmes – Walking on Sand

I walked on the beach a lot when we were in Provincetown recently. It was cold and windy but the light, as always, was effulgent. Looking down, there are stones of all colors, shells, crab limbs dropped by sea birds, seaweed, bits of trash, including pieces of broken glass that need to cook a lot longer before they get to call themselves seaglass. Looking up, there’s that light and the ocean moving.

It’s not that easy to walk on sand. You have to use your core, and even if you do, it makes you sore in muscles you don’t usually think about. A wave might soak your shoe. But every time I started to feel tired or think it might be better to take my walk on the street, I realized that I was smiling and that really, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Maybe something about the bracing difficulty of walking, something about the beauty and the wind and the uncooked seaglass – I don’t know what it was, but out there on the beach I found myself mulling over identity. If you think you know what someone’s identity means, it’s easy to ignore the reality of their life. Example: the many people, straight and otherwise, who refer to Tex as my “wife”. They know I’m gay, they know I’m married, so obviously, the person I’m married to is my wife. As misassumptions go, it’s not the worst one ever; nor is it the end of the world when the two of us are referred to as “ladies”, but it’s irksome. One reason for this is that if people think they know your identity, it can give them license to ignore what that identity actually means to you. It is a false sense of knowing that can close them off to the rewards of keeping an open heart and taking on the challenge of observing, asking and stepping into the unknown. It is a reminder to me when I find myself making assumptions about what someone’s identity may imply.

When first I found my femme, I was uncertain, so I clung to what I thought were requirements. I bemoaned the fact I couldn’t walk in heels due to physical issues, that I wasn’t a high femme, or what I thought a high femme was supposed to look and act like. Happily, those moments passed with minimal damage and I have since learned many enlightening lessons about myself and about other femmes. Queer femme feels so roomy to me now. So much still to explore, because identity is always moving, always revealing more. I’m so curious, so grateful, so inspired by queer femme.

Queer femme sisters, love yourselves this week. Love yourselves by making time to walk on the beach or in the woods or by water of any kind, where you can let your thoughts drift and touch on things sublime.

Every Monday (or Tuesday), I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes, in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women.

 

Published in: on November 28, 2017 at 3:31 PM  Leave a Comment  
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