Posted on Wednesday 14 December 2016
© Kelly Brogan MD. This work is reproduced and distributed with the permission of Kelly Brogan MD. For more articles, sign up for the newsletter at www.kellybroganmd.com
Cars were at a 12 minute standstill and the traffic light repeatedly cycled green to red. In the streets, throngs of sign-toting New Yorkers were giving voice to their passion. There were tears and profanity. The waves of protesters streamed endlessly. “F**K TRUMP” was the choice mantra of this movement. The perplexed Nepalese driver turned and said in his broken English, “Why is dese womens mad? I know what woman is. Hillary has not even little kindly heart. She is no woman.”
If we can zoom out and dispassionately examine the leading characters in this near-Shakespearean drama, we observe that there is a unique alchemy at play here. For the first time in US history, we have the Democratic Party — perceived as a heart-centered ideology — aligned with a female candidate, and the Republican Party — perceived as cold, self-interested pragmatists — aligned with not just a male candidate, but a caricature of rapacious patriarchy.
With the help of mainstream media’s carefully curated and theatrical representation of reductionist platitudes, an expected voting majority was led down the yellow brick road to meet Oz; Oz, in this case, being the redemptive victory of the first ever female president over this embarrassment of a Republican candidate.
As the media showcased Trump’s unscripted and uncensored boorish behavior, we watched women rally. They donned pantsuits. They exhorted each other towards unity in indignation (“Wake TF up! He’s disgusting. He hates disabled people! He’ll be the end of us all.”). They assembled in places like Wellesley College, desperately eager to bear witness to the piercing of the glass ceiling and usher in a new era. We watched as leading female celebrities campaigned to seize this moment in history.
Women all over this country needed Hillary to be the redemptor. To heal us. To right the wrongs and to confer a power we have felt stripped from us.
It’s only natural that women would look to a woman to help lead us home.
What happens when in our desperation for the solution to be simplified, we allow ourselves to be duped… when we can’t bear to scratch beneath the surface to recognize our projections and how we participate in our own co-option?
Co-option? What? How?
Yes. It’s time to take a good hard look at a type of feminism that, practiced today, only serves to keep us indentured and arrested in our development as women.
Classical feminism is men versus women. It’s burning bras. It’s fighting for what’s ours. It’s throwing our lipstick away, gunning for every shred of external validation offered to men — from clothing to salary to parenting roles to frontline combat units. It’s “no thanks, I got the door for myself.” It’s even cultivating aggression and hate.
It may feel empowering. But when we engage feminism primarily from the masculine principle, it contributes further to our silent and chronic oppression.
Look at where playing the game has gotten us. One in four of us is medicated beyond any contact with our own souls, let alone our emotions or our psyches. We are neutered of our hormones, electively and passively, without true informed consent. We are placed in stirrups in our moment of awakening, strapped and commandeered by men (and women) who seek to control and dominate through fear. We shear off our breasts and slice out our ovaries and uteri (and vaccinate our babies) to be safe and smart according to industry-defined standards.
We have done this under the illusion of our sovereignty as we float more and more distantly away from creative power, from cosmic feminine energy, from the great divine mother of the Adi Shakti.
We know this old style of feminism because we’ve lived it.
So many of us women have been feminists in the masculine principle for years. Decades, actually. We have said “Anything you can do, I can do (better)…” We have looked for places to exercise force, totalitarian viewpoints, aggression, and righteousness through the lens of entitlements. We have seized on birth control as a feminist’s right; the elective c-section as the empowered and civilized choice; and the cervical cancer, human papillomavirus Gardasil vaccine as a preventive boon for women everywhere.
This kind of feminism is evidence of women divested of our own divinity, giving our power away to the perceived opposition. It is Stockholm syndrome at its worst.
We must get this.
When a woman who puts aside her fierce grace, her deep nurturance, her unparalleled powers of intuition, and her unique potential to create a collective, she becomes trapped in her masculine principle. There are many of us. But it is time to evolve. Let us explain…
Hillary Clinton represents our tendency to be appeased with exactly what keeps us imprisoned. She is not a feminist’s candidate though she may appear, in form, to be.
She is, in fact, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
What did that taxi driver mean by her absence of heart? Hillary is one, perhaps extreme, example of the illusion of feminine progress, with all of her masculine principle foregrounded and her shadow elements festering beneath the surface.
There are many examples of this. Watch this video interview of one of the true activists on this planet lays that case bare. And also consider where you get your information.
You won’t hear this true story from mainstream media, take it from us! When we rely on the mainstream media for our news, we fail to see the strings pulling on the marionettes as we take in the show. We may absorb the platitudes of party politics and the triumphalism of Hillary’s gender-busting candidacy. But we fail to see the Story of Separation, the subterranean hate, and the old model of feminism that she also represents. Sometimes, it’s hard to even entertain the possibility that what we want to believe and what is true may actually be in tense conflict.
To elect her because she has a vagina is a more aggressive act of sexism than it appears. It is a vote for stasis in this story, for the status quo. It is a vote for the world-destroying machine to which she is beholden. It’s why we women feel placated to have put a vaginal canal in the oval office. It’s the excitement and celebration of illusory gains while we drift farther away from our true prospects of healing.
On the other hand, Trump is, indeed, a wolf in wolf’s clothing.
He is the crass womanizer, the ostentatious vulgarian, and the attention-seeking chauvinist. He is boastful, blunt, and rude… the embodiment of the patriarchal masculine exposed.
But the real gift in this moment in time is that we can look at what the unbalanced masculine is in a man and in a woman. And we can use this insight to reframe our expectations for what an empowered woman and national leader can and will be.
Maybe the system needs to fall apart so we can, together, begin to grow the tendrils of a new, better system to replace it.
In order to respond to this call to action, we need transparency. We can work with the wolf, particularly, if he is lone, without a pack of already deeply established industry and dynasty-level corporate and financial ties to Big Pharma, Big Chem, Big Ag, and Big Business. Think about how many liberties we have sacrificed in the name of “safety” — only to learn that the real danger lurks inside. That the fox is indeed guarding the henhouse. In many ways, the necessary change — environmental, consciousness, healing-based change — will come from the people, not from the president.
We all need to wake up. Sometimes Kali-esque destruction is a part of this process, and can catalyze the deepest forms of healing and regeneration. We need to activate the divine feminine to heal this planet.
Trump is something we can work with, push against, define ourselves through if we use the rupture of his election to ignite and channel latent energy. Sometimes the darkness reveals the path toward the light and invites more and more of us to walk it than would otherwise.
The process that has been kicked off is one of a collective mourning. At the risk of generalization, those who are grieving today, wailing, and gnashing their teeth, are those whose hearts we need most enlivened to usher in the New Story. The grace in this is that people are now feeling.
As activists on behalf of women, families, and health freedom, we recognize this feeling because we have been peeking beneath the veil of the Mainstream Media narrative for collective decades.
We have felt what millions are feeling today, for a quite a long time.
It is, potentially, the first stage of true awakening to service to feel this deep ache inside. These emotions have been IN THERE all along, simmering and percolating and roiling. In our sisters, mothers, and aunts. In our girlfriends, wives, and daughters. The rage, the grief, the indignation, the rip roaring pissed off, seriously God dammit, I’m not taking it anymore, ENOUGH is ENOUGH line in the sand. But we’ve been sublimating these feelings for decades. We can count on two hands how many truly activated women we’ve walked this path with over the past several years.
After all, there’s been plenty of fuel to our fire. There are a lot of Establishment-engineered transgressions that could’ve woken all of us up. But many have been unaware or otherwise not set off by the knowledge that there is more to the story than meets the eye and a whole lot to be pissed about. We find ourselves in a place of seriously grave instability on this planet. It’s an instability that cuts to the core of all of our ecosystems from environmental to human to microbial. To begin with, we have:
So much is so wrong. We feel the pain of this inside and now maybe you do too, more consciously.
The anxiety, depression, and fear are palpable. We know that we are disconnected from something vital. Men and women alike have lost contact with the proverbial mother as we are divorced from our greater sense of recognition, safety, belonging, and love. We know this wound. It is a feminine wound. A community wound. A family wound.
But we also know, deep down that there is, indeed, a more beautiful world that we know is possible. And we look upon the tears and screams emerging today, in the wake of this election, with a feeling of expansive possibility for the women of the world.
The induced awakening of women nationwide will be a gift of acceleration to us as a planet. Trump is, perhaps, exactly what we need to wake women up to ourselves rather than to lead us to the celebration of our own continued captivity in a narrative that has no room for our divine feminine power.
It is time to move into the new feminism. Our feminism. The feminism that the world demands to heal today. It is not a warring posture, vaginas versus cocks. It’s not women who seek to mimic the dress, comportment, and energy of stereotypical men. It’s not the level playing field. It’s not “our turn.”
This new feminism takes a good hard look at our several thousand year history of divorce from community, matriarchy, and deep wisdom. It sees that our collective hurt must be owned and worked with and fully integrated for true healing. It understands that the most powerful force on this planet is a woman’s divine compass — a compass that only knows the feeling of the collective as one. It knows that we can shift out of our righteousness and into a place of core stability because we already have everything we need if we choose to trust it, feel it, and own it.
We women are working with the deepest powers of manifestation and creation known to this world. But we have given it away.
It’s time for a reclamation.
The reclamation is not a grabbing. It’s simply a radiating. It’s an energetic commitment to healing the self in service of healing the planet. Perhaps, as Regena Thomashauer says in her new book, we need to let our pussies (not our minds) lead the way out of victimhood and into radiance. Yes, this much maligned, abused, and despised part of us that we need only to reunite with as our most trusted connection to a power we have given away.
We must let the rage and pain move through us, come together in ritual, and then work creatively with the energy that only knows to see the other as self. To see each human as a cell in the greater organism. Uniquely, instructively essential.
Hillary has shown us what the old feminism looks like, mired in orthodox power structures, dogma, and non-integration. The new feminism is emboldened by possibilities herein. It is always curious and compelling, the gifts that pain and suffering will bring if we let them flow to the surface, swirl around, and transform us in the crucible of a heart-centered consciousness. If we do this, together… if we let the seeds planted by this election grow, they will yield the leaders, healers, and true earth-bound revolutionaries who will ready us for the New Story in ways that are not yet made apparent by the current binary system of options.
Perhaps the wolf in wolf’s clothing will inadvertently and even unintentionally heal the entire landscape.
There is a Karen Taylor-Good song that we use in the Shamanic Priestess Process™ called Use Me Up, that goes like this: “ When I meet my maker and my time on earth is done, when I stand before Her (word change mine) looking back on where I’ve come, I can only pray that with Her grace and love, She will say,” I used you up”. Use me up, let me give everything I am, pour out my heart and soul according to your plan. Use me up, let there be nothing of me left, no chance to love untaken, not one regret.”
As we move into the 2nd half or even the last 3rd or 4th of our lives, seasoned women of consciousness, what I am calling The Shamanic WiseWoman, know that time is now precious to give our remaining gifts to the world, to “use up” our time here fulfilling our purpose, telling our stories and leaving our own unique legacy. Our spice and seasoning comes from years of hard knocks, tough lessons, and dark nights of the soul, and as equally from the joyful celebrations, pleasures and adventures of our lives.
We are intended to honor the gifts we have already given, and the thresholds already crossed, so that we can gain the energy to renew ourselves again and again. In the holy spaces we can create together as sacred women, we can rise from the ashes of old wounds and old ways, and consecrate our lives toward new ways of offering ourselves in service to our world which can so greatly benefit from our wisdom.
I am thoroughly enjoying walking as a WiseWoman these days, but that was not so until recently. I have been an eternal youth most of my life, choosing not to have children and instead focus on my sacred work and my “freedom” to be eccentric and forge new trails. I have been discovering new facets of myself as I embrace my wisdom and care less about self-image, accomplishment and achievement. Through all the twists and turns of my life, I have indeed cultivated the mother energy within me. Now she is becoming the grandmother! I am also discovering a new kind of spiritual sensitivity, a profound connection to the animal kingdom, and a deepening connection to my own inner mate.
These revelations were not available to me in younger versions of self. I am able to be more present-centered, less distracted by the glamours of the world, as I drop into the last cycles of my life. I no longer have goals, because I want to follow more of what inspires me and less of what drives me. Because I encounter it more often, I am drawn to explore the mysteries of death these days, and I look forward to doing this with a strong circle of strong women.
Are you eager to engage your own inner WiseWoman? Do you savor the experience of a women’s circle? Are you willing to ceremonially integrate your life lessons so far? Are you ready to concentrate your life force on your sacred soul purpose, even as you move toward befriending the death mysteries?
We (Mary Manera, me, and Jacoba Groenwegen) completed our first session October 19th-23th at Isis Cove Community NC, as the Smoky Mountains were on fire with autumn color. For those who could not make the October session, we will repeat this first session in Cincinatti Feb 23-26th, 2017. Then we will form a committed circle to go forward to the Cincinnati in late April and complete in late June. An application process ensures you are resonate with where we are going, and you will be a huge part of the evolution of the Shamanic WiseWoman Process™.
Visit this page for more detail:
McAndrew, MA, LPC, NCC is an Ordained High Priestess, and a congregational leader of Full Moon Sanctuary. She is dedicated to the path of the Divine Feminine, facilitating women’s awakening and empowerment for the past 40 years. She is the creatrix of the Shamanic Priestess Process, the Shamanic Magdalane Mysteries and retreats, workshops and processes for women. For more, visit www.goddessontheloose.com
In the past several months I have been feeling more deeply than usual about animals. Sweet dear innocent animals, those that have been companions to my friends, have been leaving. Every time it happens, I drop into grief. I grieve for my friend and his or her loss, and then I remember the loss of my closest friend in the world, Miss Lily, an extraordinary Westie dog, who left me at 15 years old, about 7 years ago. That loss was the hardest I have ever experienced, because I gave her the gift of euthanizing her when it was her time to go, and it was an excruciatingly painful act. I miss her terribly, and I often think about seeing her again in another world. Now I have 2 cats rescued from shelters, and 3 dogs, one rescued by a rescue group, one we rescued from an ad on freecycle.com, and one inherited by my stepfather who died. My ex-partner has the last one.
Once I tap into that grief, it blends into the losses of life in general, the disintegration of our planet, and loss of countless animal and human lives each and every day, including 200 species a day going away. After all of that, it becomes easier to also grieve the recent loss of my relationship, a marriage of 5 and a half years, and a relationship of 9+ years.
Clearly, I have a strong empathic relationship with the animal world, especially the plight and circumstances of companion animals. Once a few years ago, I spent several months volunteering at a cat shelter, brushing and talking to 70-80 cats once a month or so, just to move beyond my over-sensitivity to their plight of being abandoned or dumped or abused by the people in their lives. I never made it to volunteer at the local animal shelter (which is a kill shelter) because I did not have the courage. I still don’t.
About 10 days ago, 2 sweet small elderly dogs were dumped near the entrance to our community. Three of us took responsibility for them and they stayed in a wood shed for several days. We got them bathed, and fed them, and spent some time with them. I named the girl-dog Lucy, because she looked like my sister’s family dog from the past. The boy-dog we named Winston. We had concern for their health because Winston has some tumors on his body, and Lucy was shaky, weak and possibly vomiting with diarrhea. We all tried desperately to find a rescue group to take them or a family to adopt them or foster them, but the shelters were all full, or we were asking from the wrong county, or the rescue groups were in overwhelm. Finally a compassionate animal activist called in a favor and we got them into a shelter in the next county. I picked them up at our sister-friend’s woodshed a few days ago, and noticed that Lucy was weaker than ever and shaking badly. When I left them at the shelter, I asked the staff to please get her examined quickly. I left them a good amount of food, a check for $200 for the rescue group, and a bottle of Rescue Remedy (to my astonishment they had no idea what it was), asking them to keep it in their water, explaining that it clears trauma in people and animals. I called the rescue group that was going to pick them up and asked them to please tend to her medically as soon as possible. I was assured that it would happen ASAP.
Today I called the shelter to see how they were doing, and was told that Lucy had been found dead this morning. She was not taken by the rescue group yesterday because they found lots of ticks on both dogs so they were “treated”. “Treated” means chemicals, and I am pretty clear that in the condition Lucy was in, the last thing she needed was a big dose of chemicals. What she needed was an emergency vet to examine and treat her for whatever was ailing her. I regret not taking her the vet 4 days earlier myself. I hoped she would be “rescued “ by someone else so I would not have to put out the funds to pay for emergency treatment. If I had not been so busy, so pre-occupied, so unwilling to stretch myself further, she might still be alive and be on the way to recovery. She was clearly suffering and I just did not have the time to more fully tend to her. There are lots of ways this could have worked out and she still might have died. I will never know.
I am grieving for Lucy tonight. She was a sweet being who did not deserve to be left alone in her pain. She deserved to be treated with love and respect. She was probably a family dog at one time who lived in service to her people, who brought love and joy to those around her. She was a good dog.
The people who dumped their dogs in our community and left them to fend for themselves created bad karma for themselves. They created a ripple effect that has affected many beings over the past several days. One of the effects is that hearts have been stretched open, prayers have gone out. That’s not so bad. Another effect is that service agencies, volunteers and people like us have been taxed and strained and stressed. The biggest effect is that a presious life has been lost. Another effect is that Lucy’s brother, the one we call Winston, is now alone, and probably grieving as well. his grief will likely be ignored in the throng of other needs. He has lost his lifelong companion. Maybe the people who did this have been feeling regret and wondering what happened to their dogs. Maybe they will wake up a bit, and eventually pay back their debt to the animals. I can only hope.
Here is the south we have more homeless animals and mistreated animals than anywhere in the US. In our mountains dogs are left in cages in the heat and the cold, only to be left out at hunting time. Yesterday I heard from a friend in Minneapolis that their city just received 150 homeless dogs from Texas. A plea was broadcast on the evening news encouraging people to adopt one of these animals! Thank Goddess for the rescue agencies in Texas and thank Goddess for the companssionate people of Minneapolis.
So, I am writing this for Lucy, in hopes that even one person who has ever abandoned, abused, ignored, or betrayed a companion animal or an animal in trouble will read it, and think twice about their choice to abdicate responsibility or the choice to assist. I am writing it in hopes that even one person who never steps up when they are given the opportunity, will decide to step up and help, to foster, to host, to make a phone call, to donate some money, to assist with a fundraiser, to carry food in your car for hungry animals, to adopt a homeless animal, to take a chance on a dog or a cat and make this being a part of their life. Maybe you do it all the time, because those who do it tend to take on more than their share. Maybe you have never done it, and maybe it is your turn to do it. Maybe it is time for you to speak up or to stand up when you witness the way an animal is mistreated.
I personally will make a choice next time that will be more heroic, more caring, more daring. And, I really hope I don’t have too many opportunities because I am pretty raw from this one.
Lucy’s necropsy found that she had an overgrowth of whipworms, and that is what killed her. If she had been wormed earlier, her death may have been prevented. Sarge’s said it is very easy to treat. Winston is at Sarge’s rescue shelter in Waynesville NC and is doing well. He was de-wormed, had his shots and is headed to the vets to be neutered soon, as well as to have two growths removed. We will see what the say about these growths…hopefully they are benign. Check back as I will post it here next week.