This is the message I delivered January 3rd, during the opening of our sixth year of Reflections.
This is the sixth year of the school, and I’d just like to welcome everyone to the sixth year. There’s something special about…well, each year is special. I know some years I’ve been very weepy at the start, or weepy at the end. But there’s something very special about being able to get to a sixth year. One away from the seventh, and once you get there it’s sort of like settling the first chakra. We’re heading toward that place, where we’re starting to get the root of the school really solid, and so that feels so momentous, there’s like a momentum there.
I’m really excited about it. It really warms my heart to have you all here as part of that journey; a journey that is part of all of our contributions. Now we are all involved in this process of creating this container, maintaining it and caring for it. It is one of those things that is often invisible. I know part of my job—my primary job—is maintaining the container, but if it was only up to me, I don’t think it would be as strong as it is today. Our container is rich, deep and multi-layered; it is just so incredibly intricate.
It is like looking at a fractal. There’ve been some incredible pictures as of late of three-dimensional fractals and the beauty inherent in them…you can see things that resemble cathedrals, fountains, trees and orchards, and it’s just an incredible richness that was only hinted at in the two-dimensional renderings which only came alive in the three-dimensional. Our school container is just such a multi-dimensional structure. At every level you go down you find the pattern repeated, and it reveals such a rich, beautiful, and intricate pattern.
Some of you are starting to see some of those patterns, and as a result your own work is deepening. But everyone has deepened and grown through this process. It’s the not so obvious, the subtle work, that does this. Every once and a while I discuss the core of reflections -- the work of the soul.
The work of the soul is heady work; it is not for the light-hearted. It is not for folks who are unused to pressure or discomfort or disillusionment or disintegration. Quite frankly, it takes courage to walk this journey -- it takes such deep courage. It takes the kind of courage that we are often unaware of in the larger culture. It’s not the kind of courage that you see in a film when you see the hero say, “We’re outnumbered! We only have four bullets and there’s a hundred people outside, but I’m gonna make a run for it!” Not that kind of courage, that kind of courage is actually quite silly, if we are honest about it.
But it takes the kind of courage that, to me, is more reminiscent of the courage of my ancestors, where you didn’t know what each day would bring, whether you would live to see the next morning. But there was still, even within that unknowing, still time to comfort a child, to take care of an elder, to show someone love. Even in that uncertainty, there was strength of character; it mattered what we did, even if this is the end. That is the kind of courage I am talking about. The kind of courage that says, “I don’t know where I am right now, I don’t know what to do, but I’m gonna show up.” And that’s the kind of courage that it takes to do this work, to be here, to be on this journey, to walk this path.
And I want to honor that. Part of my job is to honor that journey; every single journey, because every journey is unique. However, if you step back far enough, they’re all part of the same glorious, blossoming life of spirit, of mystery. It really needs to be acknowledged, on my part and on your own parts, how far you’ve come, how much you’ve grown, and how much you’ve contributed to the growth and development of others here in this room, as well as outside of this room. And I know that even as a teacher, I have learned more by working with a school as opposed to just teaching classes. So I’ve grown, and my growth, development and journey has been informed by your growth and journey. It’s a process that’s unfolding and revealing in and of itself. This is really a journey that we are taking together; a journey of spiritual community.
So when you look at yourself and how you are developing and moving forward, even if you’re unaware of how much you are moving and developing—I can tell you all that you are—if you could see that pattern from a distance, you would be in awe, you would be in complete awe. But if you could see the journey this community has taken, you would be filled with such joy. This community’s journey is just incredible -- the blossoming and growth that we as a community have made. And I would like to think that it has had an impact on our surrounding communities, our families, loved ones, and others. I’m proud of us as a community and I’m proud of you as individuals. So I want to especially applaud that, to acknowledge that, validate that. I am honored to be your teacher, I am honored to be part of your journey, and I am very, very proud of each and every one of you. And so thank you for continuing this journey. Thank you. Thank you for this. Thank you.
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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".