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Feminism

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January 12, 2015: 1 step forward. 2 steps back.

By default I was just subjected to the trailer "The Boy Next Door."

The general plot was as follows:

- Frustrated working housewife/mother can't divorce her cheating husband. Has a one night stand with the strapping neighbor boy. Neighbor boy goes berserk when he can't get more. Neighbor boy turns into a revengeful stalker, ultimately putting the entire family at risk. Thus ensues the suspenseful chase scenes, violence, big explosions, and horror.

What I took from the trailer was as follows:

- Woman knows her husband is an arrogant, lying, cheating fuck-wad. Although she is stunning (Jennifer Lopez), gainfully employed as a teacher, and has support from her friends, she can't leave him. In a moment of "vulnerability," she sleeps with the neighbor boy who lusts for her. Rather than ask her husband for an open marriage, or perhaps an orgy with the neighbor boy and the secretary her husband fucks on the daily, she stays in a fearful silence. So now, she's terrified to tell her husband the truth, terrified to tell the school (where she teaches and the boy is a student) the truth and is subsequently stalked, threatened, emotionally, and physically tortured. And there is nowhere for her to go.

That - is an extremely fucked up message.

In summary:
- Men: Do whatever the fuck you want. Fuck whomever you want. Threaten the lives of whomever you want.
- Boys: It's okay to harass, stalk, threaten, and abuse women if they won't sleep with you.
- Women: Male infidelity is acceptable. Shut up, smile, and nod. Stop acting on your desires and deal with the violent consequences when you do.

Funny, this one time I thought it was 2015....not the fucking inquisition of 1515.
My mistake.

"We are the granddaughters of witches you could not burn."

"We are the granddaughters of witches you could not burn."

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September 24, 2014: Seduction is Stockholm Syndrome

This has been a thorn in my side for many years now but this morning I opened a NY Magazine article entitled Meet the College Women Who Are Starting a Revolution Against Campus Sexual Assault and my entire screen was taken over, assaulted by an advertisement for a makeup entitled “envy”. The tragic irony put me over the fucking edge.

Ladies: “Seduction” is Stockholm Syndrome.

I’m so utterly over it. I’m over watching women around me placate to their captors under the guise of “being empowered”. Reducing yourself to a sexual object, whether you enjoy sex or not, whether you claim to be a “tantrika” or not, is not Women’s Liberation. It’s being a sexual object. Let’s call a spade a spade.

A brief history lesson: There was the Women’s Liberation Movement AND there was the Sexual Revolution. Intersections existed, yes. Mostly over the availability of birth control (which continues today) but they are NOT the same movement. Although “A” may be parallel to “B” (A // B) , “A” does not equal “B” (A ≠ B). So, when one parades as a sexually liberated woman "B", awesome, thank your mothers who fought for that privilege. But that does not implicitly make you an empowered woman, "A". It’s math. And history. Together. Like Peaches and Cream…without the sugar drop.

Some definitions to help clarify:

Seduction: is the process of deliberately enticing a person, to lead astray, as from duty, rectitude, or the like; to corrupt, to persuade or induce to engage in sexual behaviour The word seduction stems from Latin and means literally "to lead astray".

Stockholm Syndrome: or capture-bonding, is a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and sympathy and have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending and identifying with them. These feelings are generally considered irrational in light of the danger or risk endured by the victims, who essentially mistake a lack of abuse from their captors for an act of kindness

This isn’t to say that sex, romance, adorning oneself, or feeling beautiful, are bad. Those things are great! It is the wholesale acceptance that “seduction” is somehow not only acceptable as an everyday behavior, but a preferable state of being, mostly for women and mostly in an objectified manner. That it is tolerable to lead men and women astray so that you can get you want. The primary issues here are (1) That’s lying and lying isn’t cool, and (2) It’s pushing the Women’s Lib Movement backwards.

Ladies, men think about having sex with you like 18,000 times a day. They have their own set of cultural conditioning unapologetically leveraging on their testosterone and lack of appropriate outlets in contemporary society. So to intentionally cultivate a personality, a languaging, a persona, the body movements, and an energetic that purposefully “seduces” men at every glance or sashay is a massive disservice to women’s liberation as well as to men who are trying to look past the sexualization of everything, ever.

Seducing a man is like shooting fish in a bucket. It’s nothing to be proud of. If you were starving and needed a meal and “Oh Heavens me, here’s a bucket of fish!” then alright. But it’s no significant achievement. Please abandon the conditioning that being perceived as a seductress is somehow honorable. Being perceived as a human, as a woman, as a whole being, as something outside of just tits, ass, lips, eyes, three orifices, and a tongue, that is (though unfortunately, more challenging) honorable.

No one here is telling you to don a bonnet and put skirts on the piano legs. It’s any human’s right to wear whatever they please, feel good about it, and most importantly, safe. But as a woman I am so frustrated with not only fighting an uphill battle against the patriarchy but now, post Women’s Lib, having to fight upstream against the actions of my sisters as well. This self-objectification is an insidious disease that spreads like a wildfire of envy, competition, scarcity, and show(wo)manship through our sacred femininity, burning up and annihilating the subtle beauties of being woman, or those identifying as woman. Silencing the subtle, dark nature of feminine. Numbing the subtle. Seduction is not subtle. Seduction is not beauty. It is trickery. Subtlety is beauty.

Let’s take the story of Krishna and Radha. I am not an Indian historian but I will take a gander that the large majority of women and men in the U.S.(largely in the geographical region between the Northwest and the Southwest) who claim to resonate with the story of Krishna/Radha aren’t either. From the layman’s perspective (not the academic analysis) you have Krishna – he’s a super rad bro, everyone loves him, he loves everyone, he’s got super powers (as Avatars do) and he’s generally an amicable, über competent dude. Then there’s Radha, she’s like the grooviest chick in the land and she loves Krishna and he loves her. So much so that er’body knows Krishna’s p-whipped by Radha. So like, even though he actually controls everything all Supreme Being status, she actually-actually controls everything from behind the curtain (you know, like most all marriages the world over). Then there is this added twist that most people are familiar with in that she’s the divine feminine, he’s the divine masculine and as such they are inseparable. Oh my Goddess, what a sweet story of mutual respect and adoration, I love it so much! It’s like an historic example of gender equality! Right? Oh wait; who are these Gopi bitches all of a sudden all up in the scene? Wait, Krishna gets access to infinite Gopi Booty? Oh, alright it’s an open marriage. That’s super progressive, so what are Radha’s man-bitches called? Oh. Radha doesn’t get man-bitches? *scratches head* Okay, so let me get this straight. Radha is bound to Krishna FOREVER, inseparable, no divorce papers allowed. She loves him unconditionally and ONLY him. Krishna on the other hand, digs her love, but also digs fucking the infinite supply of Gopis? I don’t know, man. That doesn’t sound so epic to me. As a matter of fact, it sounds like the EXACT patriarchal arrangement women have been trying to liberate themselves from! *face in palm* Frankly, I’m not taking my relationship cues from a society that threw live widows on the funeral pyre of their deceased husbands.

Now, we could get into a philosophical dissection of this story but that’s not the point. The point is – most people know this story to be: Radha loves Krishna, Krishna loves Radha, Krishna gets bitches, Radha doesn’t and it’s cool, preferable actually. And then they try to live up to that standard as if it is some golden example of equality. Dude, that’s messed up and NO-ONE in the new-age community even gives it a second thought. That’s Stockholm Syndrome if I’ve ever seen it.

If you need a deity upon which to affix your sexual identification, why not choose someone like Lilith; the badass chick that refused to submit to Adam, thus getting banished from the Garden of Eden (where you couldn’t even eat the apples anyway). But even better yet, just recognize that your sexuality is your sexuality. What you like and don’t like is up to you, it’s allowed to change, and it doesn’t have to be utilized in order to trick men or women into false-worshipping you.

What I ultimately ask is this:

Women: Check yourself. Why must you objectify yourself? You have so much to offer beyond being eye candy and three holes. Beautiful is fine. Sexy is fine. But using your body as a commodity, as your means to navigate the world – that’s not only damaging to you, sister, but it damages all of us.

Men: Come on, guys. Be smarter than that. See that shit from a mile away and rather than succumb, help a sister out to come correct and respect herself.

It is important to be clear with our intentions, clear of hidden agendas, and clear with our words - choose them wisely and know what you are identifying with before you affix yourself to the larger mechanisms behind every choice.

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August 24, 2014: Huevos

Sometimes in life, it just takes some huevos* to get the job done.

* which, contrary to popular usage, when speaking in biological terms applies more aptly to the female anatomy than the male.

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December 29, 2013: À bientôt

Like any muscle --> my dear heart ❤ torn and rebuilt, torn and rebuilt, torn and rebuilt again.
Growing.
Stronger.
But not without immense pain.
Deep sadness.
Outstanding betrayal.
Loneliness in companionship.
Disorientation and bafflement.
Exhaustion.
Utter and complete exhaustion.

Such is the life of an empath. To feel the joys and wonderment of Earth and the infinite dimensions therein means experiencing too, the dark.

I like dark.
I always have.
News to many.
But not to a few.

So, in case you didn't know:
Sometimes I'm really fucking over it, too.

True story.
But I trudge on.
Through yet another environmental catastrophe.
Another war.
Another rape.
Another abuse of power.
Amidst the bewilderment I see people's true nature, their beauty, their deep wounding, their insecurities, their patterns and history that inform such unseemly behavior.

Surely, men have had a hell of a time wondering why I stop singing when they put me in their pretty, gilded cages. This can be frustrating. Annoying at best. For both bird and keeper.

Really though, it's women that tear my heart into thousands of shattered pieces strewn from one end of the Pacific to the other. It's seeing my own doubts of self-worth manifest in the women before me as they try in all their cunning might to erase me from sight, from their lovers gaze, from their mothers or brothers or sisters good graces, from their academic roundtables or professional conference rooms. I have grown exceptionally weary at the constant attempts of competition, at the friends I've lost for this or that amount of time, at the relationships mangled.

I am not angry.
It's not logical.
Nor useful.
Nor what I feel.

It
    Just
         Breaks
                  My
                      Heart

More than a romantic love lost, the immense lack of solidarity, true solidarity, from my female compatriots, this is cause for most of my tears at night. I LOVE US SO MUCH and somehow it still doesn't seem enough to quell patriarchal conditioning. Locked in an illusion of scarcity, viewing one another as a threat to resources rather than the resources themselves.

What is a world without women who can simply love?

Again,
What is a world without women who LOVE?
Not seduce, not enchant, not flatter, but
.L O V E.

The past three years have held an abundance of new challenges. Ones I had never met before nor ever imagined. From the overwhelming heartbreak of nuclear catastrophe to the simple and beautiful heartbreak(s) of being in love with a boy. At the root - suffering is self induced, woven and welcomed as parts of the web.

And though life has left me feeling like a breathless bag of bones sitting quietly on the floor...I still make music. Each new assault, each additional blow while I'm down -- rattles this ancient skeleton, releasing a delicate and haunting melody into the ethers. A song of perseverance. A song of grace.

///----------->>
Over next week, during a deep meditative retreat, my daily blog will occur in the pages of this notebook rather than the pages of the web.

Taking a technology fast.
Au revoir, screens.
Bonjour, longhand.

Walking into a space of sheer observation. Letting teaching wash over me, sink into my pores, hopeful to hear what awakens, what arises from my own consciousness. The healing of acceptance, the empowerment of ferocious vulnerability.

It's a new year.
A new moon.
Darkness.
Blankness.
Lightness.

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December 16, 2013: The Woman with the Hair of Gold

"There was a very strange but beautiful woman with long golden hair as fine as spun gold. She was poor...and lived in the woods alone and wove on a loom made of black walnut boughs.

A brute who was the son of the coal burner tried to force her into marriage, and in an effort to buy him off, she gave him some of her golden hair.

But he did not know or care that it was spiritual, not monetary, gold that she gave him, so when he sought to trade her hair for merchandise in the marketplace, people jeered at him and thought him mad.

Enraged, he returned by night to the woman’s cottage and killed her with his hands and buried her body by the river. For a long time nobody noticed that she was missing. No one inquired of her hearth or health. But in her grave, the woman’s golden hair grew and grew. The beautiful hair curled and spiraled upward through the black soil and it grew looping and twirling more and more, and up and up until her grave was covered but a field of swaying golden reeds.
Shepherds cut the curly reeds down to make flutes and the tiny flutes would not stop singing;

Here lies the woman with golden hair
Murdered and in her grave
Killed by the son of a coal burner
Because she wished to live.
"


Abridged version of the tale written by Clarissa Pinkola Estès.

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November 26, 2013: Sacrifice

At what point is self sacrifice necessary? At what point is it foolish?

Need logic be mutually exclusive from and take the back seat to chivalry?

It seems history paints and perpetuates a romantic picture of those who willingly accept defeat, capture, and death when in times of war. Setting the stage for the silent acceptance of small, every day self-sacrifices in the battles that are waged across the generations-long war of attrition between "us" and "them". Whichever us and whichever them may be en vogue at the moment.

Talk about patriarchal conditioning --> men start war, men defeat and starve a city, men demand a humiliating and fatal sacrifice, woman spares their lives, men idolized for their acceptance of "fate", and the kings and conquerors and fools continue their Hundred Years Wars for hundreds of years to come.

And repeat.

Anyone stop to think that maybe the emperor has no sword?

Rodin's Burghers of Calais
Stanford, CA

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September 14, 2013: B*tch is Blasphemous. Thank (G)od(dess)(es).

There are three things we are advised not to speak of: politics, religion, and sex. Well, religion is really about sex and dominated by politics. Politics is all about sex and dominated by religion. Sex just tries to be sex but is dominated by religion and regulated by politics and we all know that in the end everything, no matter which way you cut it, is about sex. So if sex is everything but politics dominates it into non-existence and religion simply pretends it doesn't exist while both are still clearly driven by it, then that leaves us to talk about only the converse of everything, which is of course, nothing.

Hmmm...

The solution: Make sure you recite a politically correct, genderless Hail Mary after feasting on a meal of Kosher pork while stripping off clothing of mixed fibers to make sure you are publicly naked before your evening Quranic prayer of Salat Al-Isha in preparation for engaging in perhaps one of the most human acts known to humans, be it hetero, preferably homo, or who knows: sex. Amen, Hallelujah, Alhamdulillah.

I think that'll fix everything just nicely.

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