Anne Hill tagged me for a meme called, Passion Quilt.
The rules of the meme are thus:
- Post a picture or make/take/create your own that captures what YOU are most passionate for students to learn about.
- Give your picture a short title.
- Title your blog post “Meme: Passion Quilt.”
- Link back to this blog entry.
- Include links to 5 (or more) educators.
Where Now?Considering all the pain and misery I have been excavating from my body, passion till a few days ago was in short supply. Then it happened, what always happens, the myriad threads coalesced and suddenly what had seemed hopelessly unraveled became whole.
It all started with a catalog from the Pacifica Graduate Institute. I had an earlier one safely hidden in plain sight so I could pretend I was not looking at it longingly from across the room. Then just as that bit of denial started to “work”, damn if they did not send another, even more beautiful one, in the mail. It was bad enough that they sent me countless incredibly beautiful brochures for all their upcoming workshops, but now here in my hot little hands was a brand spanking new catalog of whispering dreams and dazzlingly promises all laid out for me to behold, lust over and with trembling hands, finger each page. So I did what any card carrying warrior mystic would do. I left it in its clear(!) envelope on the floor, under the chair, right where I could see it but not touch it.
And there it stayed till my coven sister Rose arrived, started laughing, and picked it up. Damn her! She then opened it and began turning the pages while I sat watching her with downcast eyes, murmuring profanities to myself.
“What’s that, Katrina?”
“Um, huh? Oh nothing …”
[laughter], “Un-huh?”
“Bitch!”
[laughter]
We then had one of those conversations about my hiding from an obvious message about my deep passion for myth, magick and mystery. And I finally succumbed and drank in the catalog with such delight, ecstasy and reverie.
And so over the next week, I investigated, reflected, journaled and prayed. And to the amusement of many of my close friends, I admitted that, yes I am a mystic who is passionate about myth, archetypes and deep mystery. And, that I need this pursuit in my life. And although I cannot afford the six-figure cost of a Pacifica doctorate in Mythological Studies (drool), I am not so sure I need the degree either.
It is a lot like my previous pursuit of a doctorate from MIT. Back in the nineties, I had similarly lusted over descriptions of the Ph.d program at the MIT Media Lab. I remembered how that interest led to my starting Amber Eyes. I did not need the Media Lab to pursue my interest in interactive technologies or to become a web designer.
I realize that Pacifica for me is a lot like MIT. It represents an unfulfilled passion. I could focus on the school or I could focus on the passion. Of course, if a full scholarship should suddenly drop into my lap, well guess who coming to California? And I will attend workshops, as I am able. But this lover of myth is going to make room in her life for the serious pursuit of her passion – Myths, Magick & Mystery. I will still gladly browse course offerings and other opportunities, but I am not putting this pursuit on hold because I cannot afford tuition – I will pursue this passion no matter what.
And this is what I am passionate about teaching my students. Follow your bliss, yes. But follow it, not the ways it gets your attention. Too often, I notice folks grabbing onto things, structures, techniques, titles and almost anything outside of themselves. I understand that it may seem essential especially for extroverts. But what I want my students to comprehend is that the true compass always lies within - not in your fears, your stories, your weaknesses or your projections, but in your passion. Follow your passion. And it will always point to your true north.
And I tag Chelidon, Ivo, Helena, Angela and Eridanus.
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Wish I could be there. Very well spoken.
Katrina,
I wish you all the blessings and power you need on your journey. Thank you for these words. It is good to remember that returning to work (and thus returning to grace) bring a chance for us all to rest and have joy.
Wishing you joy in the Work.
David
Dear Katrina- Thorn reposted your blog and happy am I. Your passion, always so immense, comes blowing out in these words. So akin to my own heart and soul that it makes me have a bittersweet smile.
The Storm is only now coming to the edges of our universe and yet it will sweep and consume all that is. In the end, our beautiful universe will be so much...more? Different? Complete? Who knows?
All I do know is my soul came here to witness and be part in this period. I cannot shrink from the work. I am here with you, fae sister!
Thought-provoking piece, Katrina. Thanks.
I don't know what to call myself either. In Pagandom, I've taken to referring to myself as a Witch at Large. In the interfaith world where I'm active, I call myself a Pagan. Sometimes I call myself an uppity woman or a Second Wave Feminist. I've never really thought to publicly identify myself by my sexuality, het woman, which is very "white bread" and old-fashioned. Not only het, but serially monogamous for the most part. It seems almost a liability these days to say you're het, but I am proudly and happily so. I tend towards intellectualism but only have a BA, which doesn't carry much weight, at least in public and professional worlds, no matter how much you've studied, trained, and can articulate, even teach.
My biological heritage is Irish, Dutch, French Huguenot, Euro-mongrel. My social heritage is Roman Catholic on one side and conservative Methodist, temperance-crusading, women's rights and education on the other, with distinct East Coast sensibilities, now mellowed by more than half a century living on the Left Coast. My maternal political heritage is conservative Republican (altho what my relatives might think of current trends in the GOP I cannot imagine, since they did have brains and they did think and they did have a social conscience), yet I am much farther left in my outlook than any elected official I know. My paternal political heritage is blue collar Democratic, except that my dad broke with his family on politics and allied with my mother's family's conservatism.
I'm a former hippie, a home-birth advocate, a home death and green burial advocate, an opponent of capital punishment and resorting to warfare to resolve humankind's differences. I support the right to conscious self-deliverance. I rejoice in any and all consensual expressions of love and eros. I'm a lover and a mom.
I have never missed voting in an election and I disrespect those who don't avail themselves of this hard-won right. (I have ancestors who fought the Brits in the American Revolution.) I support workers' rights. I recognize our interdependence on this planet, so could be called a greenie. I'm a committed environmentalist in my day-to-day life (in terms of eating locally grown food, expanding public transit, recycling, preserving open space and wildlife, opposing exploitation of natural resources [strip mining, oil-drilling, nuclear facilities, agribusiness, monocultures, clear-cutting timber, overuse of pesticides, genetic modification, etc.]) I want to make the city streets "safe for dancing," as my old friend Tony Serra said when he ran for mayor of SF on the Platypus Party ticket.
Well, you got me going there, my friend. Thought-provoking read, as I said. ;-)
xo,
Macha
Lovely azaleas!
[cough][gag][snort][sneeze]
Just lovely...
I know what you mean.
I feel you. There is too much bs- particularly when people decide that their temperament is tantamount to truthful and ignore everyone else.
I get irked by immature extroverts or closet introverts who ignore you REPEATEDLY and then pretend you're out of line for being upset by the time they can't pretend you didn't say anything anymore. I find that the same people will ignore you if you blow up right away, too, and that it's because they just don't think that honoring what you value is important to maintaining a relationship, or even worse: that you don't know what you value at all and that it's all a mind game for their pleasure or annoyance. Then they call you passive-aggressive, aggressive, moody, touchy and temperamental. I call them "not listening".