Meditations for Queer Femmes – Boredom, Waiting, Illness, Healing

Way back when I used to homeschool my kids, there was a story going around about one of the many homeschool gurus. This woman was wise in the ways of children, learning, creativity, and play, and I am sorry I don’t remember her name. When her children complained that they were bored, she would respond with a vaguely interested, “Hmm,” and go on about her business. Usually and pretty soon, her kids would figure out what they wanted to do next, and they, too, would go about their business.

Think about now. We are never bored. We are petrified of boredom. And waiting — we still have do that, in line, at the laundromat, before appointments, for the movie to start, but we don’t have to do it with our feelers out, our brains idling in neutral. When we are feeling punk, or are up against a recommended medical test, we never have to check in with ourselves if we don’t want to (and when you’re scared or even just concerned, it’s often hard to check in); we don’t even have to figure out how best to heal or even what being healthy means, because we can look it all up online and chose from among many, many strong opinions on the subjects. Our devices connecting us to the friendly internet skies are always, always there to keep us company. We are not encouraged to let our minds and hearts float free.

This has been a year of many health issues, my own and those of my family. We have spent time doing research, trying one thing after another, connecting to Spirit and waiting for various kinds of information.  I’m using the word “information” deliberately, preferring it to “results” or “diagnosis”, because, when faced with a health issue, we are trying to do our best to suss the meaning out about what’s going on and how we want to proceed in a way that is as much in harmony with our beliefs and best interests as possible. We want to feel centered, surrounded by love and support, and connected to each other and to the great web of being so that our path is wider than a panicked fast track to medical intervention or a relieved denial about mortality. We want to find ourselves in the process.

Time spent waiting can be been both excruciating and mundane. With the help of the Serenity Prayer and a full year in Al-Anon, I have the rudiments of a spiritual program I can use (when I remember!) to slow down my extremely creative, busy and crises-oriented imagination around all this family health stuff. I have work, and my students bring me so much joy. I have chores. I have pets, friends, my kids, books, a new course of studies that will begin in July that I’m deeply grateful for and really excited about. I have my butch husband who is a fucking rock – thank you, My Love! I have responsibilities to and love from my elderly parents, including my mother-in-law who is such an ace at lighting candles and sending healing energy. I participate in the life of my community. I have the practice of this blog and my other writing, and I have a piano and singing and right now I’m sitting in our Provincetown rental looking out at the sea: full tide, a bit choppy, grey, huge, cloudy sky. Earlier, some of the clouds were in spirals – I’ve never seen that before. I am grateful for the sea and the clouds and for the reminder that I am part of all of these natural systems and that we all have a natural system inside of us. Just as in Al-Anon we learn that the alcoholic is not wholly defined by their addiction, despite how it feels, I am allowing that I and my family members are much more complex as humans than simply an illness or an exhibitor of certain symptoms. I am allowing that an illness itself might be a symptom of healing.

Embodied, fragile, infinitely strong of spirit, glorious and beloved femme sisters, today revel in boredom, in waiting. Do not reject it! Leave the earbuds behind on your walk, smile and look around when you’re in line, use the cashier instead of the automated check out, remember: you contain multitudes. Take a moment or more to connect with yourself and with the nature around you, and by “nature” I mean everything, including humans. We are here for such a limited and precious time, my ornery and delightful darlings. We are here. We are here. We are here.

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.”)

 

 

 

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.”)