Quest For The Hol-Z Grail

Recently a fellow Shamanic Practitioner friend introduced a very intriguing proposal to me. Despite our lofty spiritual aspirations and callings, we have both had our individual struggles with Zoloft and our unsuccessful attempts at trying to get off of it. Then she read an article by a woman who did a shamanic journey to meet the heart medication she takes, to find out that "Medicine is medicine." My friend's inspiration spread to me when she told me about this, and she asked if I wanted to take my own 'Journey with Zoloft,' as she would, then we could compare notes. What an awesome idea, I thought, and then, life being what it is, a month went by before I got the chance to take that journey.

I tried not to get to down on myself for procrastinating, trying to remind myself that everything happens in its own time, and when the opportunity occurred last night, I grabbed it. It was the first meeting of of a new Community Journey Circle in Seattle and, since one of the three journeys we did was a personal journey, I jumped at the chance to do a journey to the Spirit of Zoloft...

***

As usual, as I entered the Journey, I was greeted by Nathaniel, or more correctly, Nathaniel's nose.  It has become his signature way of meeting me in the Lower World, and I can't tell you the joy that spills from my heart whenever I see that fuzzy reindeer nose almost touching my own.  I scritch the proffered softness before me in greeting, then tell Nathaniel why I'm there. "Can you please take me to the Spirit of Zoloft?"

Instantly I am on his back as he runs all out, hooves churning the snowy field beneath us. And as we zip across this white plain with the blanket of a dark, moonless night hanging above, I see rising before us this gargantuan head, all lit up and hovering over the snow.  The misshapen face looks like something out of The Yellow Submarine and it laughs maniacally through slabs of teeth, jutting out in every direction.  There is no mistaking the threatening demeanor of this mad king, but Nathaniel doesn't slow a single iota on our charge toward it, nor is there any hesitation as we plunge through the chin of the face. 

Though I can't say that I was surprised that the head turned out to be a hologram, the entire scene reminding me of when Dorothy and her companions first confronted the Wizard of Oz, I was dumbstruck by what was contained with in it.  We came to a full stop and I found myself gazing at this shaft of white light, like a pillar in front of me, which held, floating in its midst, a golden, glowing grail.  Not your run-of-the-mill, garden-variety holy grail, mind you.  This one had antlers stretching out from either side of its brim. 

As I adjusted to this sight, and the radiance of light that bathed this chamber I found myself in, I glimpsed beyond the grail a shadowy figure.  Well, perhaps 'shadowy' is not the correct term, there being such abundant light present, but details were lacking.  All I could tell of the figure was that its cloaked back was to me, and his head bore similiar antlers to those of the grail.  "Herne!" I thought, this particular incarnation of the Lord of the Forest playing a major role in my personal mythology and fed by similar images from the Robin of Sherwood television series. 

I watched the left arm of the figure slip the cloak aside slightly, as the great head turned toward me, the antlers pausing at a dapper 45 degree angle.  Then, whether the antlers just disappeared or were removed by the figure, it was a tall, dark-haired man that gained substance as he approached me.  He bowed his head and took a knee before me, then kissing my finger as though it was encompassed by a ring of royalty, expressed his honor at being allowed to serve me.

He stood, and turning toward the shaft of light, drew the glowing chalice from where it hovered in the air.  He offered it to me, and as I took the grail in my hand and gazed at the white, glistening, liquid substance it held with in it, he said, "It is the cup of life." 

"There are many avenues home, none any less Divine than any other.  This is simply the one you chose, the one you created, and it is my deepest honor to be of service to you, to support you on your path, and to allow you to focus on the fertile, virile, and creative aspects of your life."

As I heard the call-back beat on the drum and knew it was time to return from this journey, I asked one more question.  "Will I always need you?"

"Of course not," he smiled.

Let Us Dance

I am sitting in a Seattle Starbucks, having just attended the special Mother's Day service at my house of worship, Gaia's Temple.  Being, as one friend called me, a "Goddess Man" the day takes on an additional layer of meaning, celebrating the Mother Goddess in every woman, past, present, and future.  In the course of the service some things began to glimmer across my mind and I thought I'd try to capture them here while they are fresh -- so please forgive me if this entry wanders a bit disconnectedly as these thoughts haven't been fully explored yet.

So I was sitting there looking at all these beautiful women of every possible shape, size, and color, standing up for a special blessing, each holding a fresh rose, while the impact of various lines of poetry, song, and teaching from the morning settled in.  As I recognized, thanked, and blessed these women I felt a subtle shift in me and I began to recognize something else -- namely my role as a man.

This has been an on-going process of thought, identity, and growth for me, pretty much  from childhood on. Even as a boy I was what you could probably call a Momma's Boy, and  I wasn't into sports, or fighting, or much of anything that is typical for boys.  Because of this I developed strong feelings of inferiority as I constantly "wimped out," unable to fulfill the expectations put on me because I was a boy.  This softness was seen, by myself and those around me, as a weakness. 

Even now this is something I struggle with from time to time, as I am dismissed or seen as too weak or too feminine by others -- and I sometimes almost start to believe it myself.  But even as I am typing this I am just now realizing the strength it took to maintain my innocence and softness through all those years.  People are always asking me how I was able to turn out the way I did without losing those parts of me.  But I remember the specific point in time, standing in my friend's back yard as the neighborhood kids were divvying up teams for an impromptu baseball game, when I realized I was at a crossroads and I consciously chose which path to go down.  I could very easily go down the road where I would forget myself and let myself get wrapped up in sports, like all the other guys seemed to be, memorizing all the players and all their stats, and living for the next game, or I could be true to my heart and my self and go my own way, even though I didn't know what that way looked like -- The Road Less Travelled.  Despite this leading me to countless instances of feeling wimpy, worthless, or inadequate because I couldn't do what I was "suppose to do" according to ideals of family and society, that was a very bold decision for a prepubescent boy growing up in the Midwest.  I always bewailed the fact that I never fit in, but at this point I can look back with gratitude at the strength and courage it took this younger part of me to follow his own path rather than just following blindly those around him.  Way to go little dude! :)

More recently, as I began exploring, and recognized a definite draw for me, to more feminine, Goddess-oriented religions and spirituality, I think I sort of disowned some of the masculine aspects of myself, not realizing I was still caught in the World's ideas and expectations of what masculinity and femininity are. I really began thinking of myself as "one of the girls" since most of my free time is spent with women.  99.9% of my friends are women because I get along with, seem to have more in common with, and just plain enjoy the company of women over men.  Of course I could hear alot of guys saying, "I prefer the company of women too!" but I'm talking on a more emotionally equal commonality level.  Women are better peers to me than men.  I get them and they seem to get me on a deeper level, which I deserve and crave.  So, yes I became "one of the girls."

Through all of this, and being very aware of the atrocities through out history to the present day visited upon women, by men as well as patriarchal ideas, I became almost embarrassed and ashamed, and definitely apologetic for being a man.  I think this is probably, at least in part, responsible for a string of strong, opinionated, girlfriends who seemed to think (and not always without my agreement) they knew better than me who I should be.  What did I know?  I was just a man, and look how badly men have screwed up the world.  And thus I gave up a lot of power out of the guilt of my gender.

And this is what I think I felt shift at the service.  Instead of feeling in limbo between the two worlds, not being a woman and yet not claiming my manhood, I suddenly saw my place as a bridge between the two.  It was time to step up, claim my masculinity -- not that I have to do anything differently (I would still rather take a quilting lesson than watch baseball) -- and stop being apologetic for being a man.  My pretending to not be a man isn't helping anyone, and in fact only helps the old patterns continue.  A recurring lesson for me is that I am meant to be seen, and in this way I need to step forward, unabashedly, and be a man -- a well balanced man who is very in touch with his feminine, which only makes him stronger, more flexible, and more compassionate, and more a force for real change in the world. 

As an interesting aside, even the Samurai were aware of this.  These warriors, known for their fearlessness and battle prowess, were required to be skilled in at least one of the non-martial arts -- calligraphy, poetry, music, etc -- to balance the more masculine, driving, aspects of their life with more feminine, creative aspects.  I once saw Jackie Chan on a talk show and, having been trained thusly, he sang an operatic piece of music.  The host was a bit bewildered, remarking that he would have thought Jackie would be more into singing hard rock stuff because of his incredible and dynamic kung-fu skills, and Jackie, perhaps a bit bewildered himself at this remark, replied something about how unbalanced that would be.

So, for me it seems time to stop just rejecting or rebelling against the old masculine paradigm, which just sells myself short, and with a foot in both worlds start modeling a new one -- become the change I want to see, and be the man I'm meant to be.  As a Pagan I've always felt my goal and my role was to become or to embody the Lord of the Forest (the Divine Masculine consort of the Goddess) as much as possible, and as such support Her.  Only during this service did it click into place that this support is as an equal rather than as a subservient.  I see it sort of like the "hollow-bone" concept in Shamanism, where your goal is to be like a hollow-bone to allow Spirit to move through and guide you.  The Divine Masculine is the manifest form, the hollow-bone, by which the fluid and creative Divine Feminine moves into and through the world. It is through letting go and trusting Her guidance that the masculine reshapes and changes and evolves.  And as the Masculine shape-shifts and grows, the Feminine finds new creative expressions and ways to guide the Masculine.  It is a dance not a battle. 

The real strength of being a man, expressing the masculine principle, is in staying clear and trusting, having the strength to stand your ground and be true to your heart, which is your connection to the feminine. It is only in this way, standing fully in the masculine power, that you have the strength and focus to form a solid and strong enough container to allow the feminine power to express truly through you.  It is the masculine's job to make space for the Goddess. We are suppose to be facing outward, arms out and ready to fly on the waves of love from Her that flow through us and fuel us, not facing inward trying to control and contain, or even protect Her.  She doesn't need protection, and in actuality She can't be contained. Neither is She outside or separate from us.  She dances with the Divine Masculine through each of us regardless of gender or orientation.

I realize that some of this is only half-formed ramblings, but I hope it makes sense. I have a funny feeling this is a subject that I will be revisiting, revising, and refining here in the future!

So I feel myself stepping fully into my manhood, the smokey, whispy ghosts of my grandfathers gathering behind me in a line stretching  back through the annals of time.  I stand solid, determined that the ancestral chains break with me.  It ends here.  And as one voice my grandfathers speak through me, addressing every woman who reads these words --

For every man who has ever abused you, whether mentally, emotionally, physically, or sexually, I am sorry.


For every man who has ever caused you fear, discomfort, belittlement, or in any other way threatened your sense of well-being and wholeness, I am sorry.


For every man who failed to support you, take you seriously, trust you, consider your needs, or be emotionally available, I am sorry.


For every son, brother, husband, lover, father, grandfather that was taken from you in battle, I am sorry.


For every time and for every way you have been lied to, cheated , taken advantage of, taken for granted, disrespected, preyed upon, maimed, disfigured, feared, abandoned, misunderstood, brutalized,  mutilated, violated, objectified, not seen, defiled, conquered, passed over, invalidated, down trodden, beaten down, raped, tortured, and demonized, I am sorry.


And for every time, despite it all, that you have survived, managed, flourished, supported, been present, birthed, raised, grieved, sheltered, counseled, consoled, healed, nurtured, nourished, soothed, danced backwards (and in heels), stood up, spoke up, protected, taught, created, graced, empowered, and loved, I am grateful beyond words. 


Blessed be the women.  Blessed are you.


I see you.  I recognize you.  I honor, embrace, and celebrate you.  Let healing begin here.  Let healing begin now.  I stand fully present before you, offering you my hand.  Let us dance.