Well, I never really left. I had just for a while hidden my awareness of it behind a lot of head stuff. For a couple of weeks, I have been delving around in the theory of origins and asking how we got into the mess we are in now. Very interesting - to me - and possibly useful as a contribution towards diagnosis and a possible remedy, but it has also been an attempt to deny some very difficult feelings. Which are - to list a few - grief, fear, excitement, elation, depression, loneliness, despair, hope, faith and its lack. All these can co-exist within a single day and it is quite exhausting.
It has been going on for a long time now and shows no sign of letting up. In fact, it seems to be reaching a peak with me alternately howling in grief and then feeling a quiet confidence. Then fear, doubt, joy etc come each in their turn bringing their own particular flavours to the brew.
All that is certain is that I know nothing. At the weekend, unless I otherwise decide, I will initiate as priest of Inanna. Lest anyone ask, I have no idea what this could mean. I have asked others to devise the ceremony and have no idea what they have planned. Still less do I know what it will mean after the ceremony. Least of all do I know why I am doing it. My sceptic tells me that it is absurd in the early 21 Century to dedicate to a divinity honoured by a people whose civilisation flourished several millennia ago, my critic that I am indulging my innate histrionicism and my inner shrink that I am simply mad. All of which may well be true but there is also a voice that tells me that this is the path I have to tread. It is a voice that I have heard before and it has led me through many changes in my life. I now see it as the voice of Inanna. Whatever that may mean.
There are many times I wish that I had never heard it - and there are many ways I have tried to drown it out, including, at various times, drugs and alcohol. None of these ways have ever succeeded in cancelling my inner conviction that there is something that I have to do in this life. Nothing that has enabled me to relax into a more4 ordinary life. So, now I am forced to listen - and to follow the inner promptings of my intuition and the less common but very powerful times of hearing Her voice.
So, if she has called me, what does she want from me? I have no idea but as she has been called the Great Whore, Babylon etc, I assume that it is something concerned with sexuality and the moralities and judgements surrounding it. Which has been behind my recent postings about the porn debate. This is not a subject that I have entered lightly. I am only too aware of my own difficulties and vulnerabilities and do not relish putting myself in any sort of firing line. But I am convinced that there is nothing more vital than to explore ways of expressing desire, intimacy and love between human beings that are not exploitative and ruled by fear and shame. I have no answers in this - only questions and a belief that things have not always been as totally fucked up as they are now and that human beings were once able to live and love together in ways that were freer than they are now. And what was possible once is possible again.
I have long been, and remain, a radical although I often try to run into a safer place of traditional structure. To be a radical is to challenge the very roots of our cultural attitudes and this is not a comfortable journey. So, I have tried to compromise. These attempts have never been successful for long and the radical eventually breaks out- often in ways that are exceedingly painful for me and others. I am now struggling to find the courage to remain a radical and avoid the ultimately unsuccessful attempts to find certainties and become "respectable".
I am not sure why I am writing this, but it seemed necessary. I went for a walk in the forest yesterday and it was beautiful. Most of the trees have lost most of their leaves now and the naked branches shone seemed to shine in the clear autumn light against a deep blue sky. Although the sun was warm, there as a clear chill in the shade and i was glad of my new warm coat - a bit too large but very cheap as it was the end of the range in the local Tesco. I had started off feeling very disturbed and realising that there was a strong possibility that my time here was soon to be over and that I would be forced to sell all I have in order to return to the UK. But in the course of the walk, this possibility ceased to be frightening. I also realised that a large part of me yearns and has never ceased yearning to return. But what was done cannot be undone and although i may still return to Britain, I cannot go back to what was before. And that was ok - and remains so. The grief is still there and will perhaps never go away. But there is also joy and a feeling that I am doing what I have been called to do. But I wish the instructions could be clearer at times!
I may post again before the weekend. Or I may not. we shall see.
Stop telling me my post-baby body is ‘brave’
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