Each of us in this culture comes in with some awareness of who we are and then because of the brutality of the culture we live in we each are shattered bit by bit until we hardly remember who we are. We become a shell of the person we were meant to be. Very few of us, especially people of my generation, were able to maintain their Wholeness and their Sovereignty.
I was a magical child with a vivid imagination, and deep sense of compassion for people and animals but I also had the "gift"? of no filters. I have always gotten in trouble for speaking without thinking and for saying socially inappropriate things. As a result I was bullied, shamed and for a long time shut down. However, now as a Menopausal woman I am seeing the power in this gift, especially at this time and how empowering it is to others for me to speak out and write what is on my mind and in my heart.
I am a storyteller so even though I may seem to ramble on stay with me, I will get to the point eventually. As a child I loved stories, I loved telling them and I loved reading them. In second grade I remember being fascinated by the story of the Greek Gods and all I did for weeks was talk about the gifts of the gods until one day at recess a group of kids in my class shoved me on the ground and pulled my pants off. I of course was shamed and not realizing until much later I also realized that that day on the playground was the beginning of losing my voice. It wasn't until a few years ago that I realized that everyone of those kids who pushed me down, taunted me and pulled my pants down were Catholics and I didn't realize until recently that my overflowing adoration of the gods, was heresy to the Catholics. Even in second grade. I stopped talking about the gods and only recently have begun my studies of more "heathen and heretical" topics.
A few years later I also remember being in Sunday School sitting in a circle with my fellow Sunday School kids and teacher when I questioned something in the bible. The vehemence from the teacher kind of shocked me and sad to say, shut me down even more. I had loved going to church but because of who I was and had always been, I never took anything at face value. My dad said my first word was "WHY?" Some other things happened in that church that totally pushed me away from church and thank the gods, God and the Goddess it did because now my mind and my heart are much more open to the spiritual laws of the universe. Even though I loved church as a child, because of what happened to me in that church and what has been done in the name of God, I have found many ways to connect to the Divine so I never have to go into a church if I don't want to.
Okay so lets skip ahead a dozen years. I am just finishing up my degree in journalism, I am aflame with passion for being a muckraker.
According to Wikipedia the " term muckraker was used in the Progressive Era to characterize reform-minded American journalists who wrote largely for all popular magazines. The modern term is investigative journalism, and investigative journalists today are often informally called "muckrakers." They relied on their own reporting and often worked to expose social ills and corporate and political corruption. Muckraking magazines—notably McClure's of publisher S. S. McClure—took on corporate monopolies and crooked political machines while raising public awareness of chronic urban poverty, unsafe working conditions, and social issues like child labor.[1]"
The editor of the paper I received an internship at sits me down the first day and says to me, "I know you are going to want to come here and be a muckraker, but you can't. The people you are going to want to go after are the people who buy ads in this paper."
I of course was stunned and disillusioned. I worked at the paper for a year and then returned to the restaurant business where I was allowed to be more authentic. The big problem with what happened was that I felt disempowered to make a difference and stopped writing.
Okay again we are going to skip ahead a few years. I am just entering my 40s. My Grandmother had passed away and before she died she told me she only had one regret, "I didn't stand up for the Trees." For some reason I took her regret to heart and I started thinking about what I cared about and I realized it was my community, Whitefish, MT.
After September 11 for some reason, the population of Whitefish exploded. Between 2001 and 2007 the community almost doubled in population. A lot of locals were stressed, not only by the fast rate of change but by the elitism that was moving in with the big money people who were buying their third and fourth homes. It was an election year and someone approached about running for City Council. I let them talk me into it, mainly because I loved my community and wanted to be a voice for the long time locals who felt disempowered and invisible. There was very little consideration for the people who lived here for a long time, only a focus on allowing and fostering development and growth.
So I, with my grandmother's regret in the back of my mind, consented. I handily won the election, receiving the largest number of votes ever. Then the work and the frustration began. I realized very quickly that the zoning ordinances were antiquated and only favored the developers rather than maintaining the integrity of neighborhoods and fostering community. Even with a well-thought out master plan that took these things into consideration, the zoning trumped all so for many developments I was a voice in the wilderness. Very quickly I realized I am not a very good politician because I don't have a filter and I wasn't very good at sucking up. Before my term was finished someone tried to get the chief of police to arrest me for being a witch and the paper I had worked for did an article about me and my past lives. My women friends were afraid I was going to get burned but men stopped me on the street and commended me for speaking my truth. They said it empowered them to speak their own truth.
That was the first time I had experienced an awareness that by freeing my self from the oppressive cultural constraints and speaking aloud or writing about my experiences, I helped other people have the courage to be truthful about who they are. Since leaving the council I opened a Metaphysical store, continued to practice my alternate healing modalities and began teaching a yoga that encourages and helps facilitate people in acting from the Truth in their Hearts.
I have also become an outspoken advocate for doing things outside of the existing paradigm. My retail store is open one day a week and by appointment.
Only recently have I become an Activist for protecting the Earth and the Water in a way my Grandmother wasn't able to. After my city council experience I put my head in the sand and just worked one heart to one heart. As the water in our valley is threated by someone wanting to bottle it, my ancestors are yelling at me to stand up and speak out against it.
Even though I question why I out myself over and over, every time I write a post exposing my latest exploit of taking my power back from the matrix or doing things in a way that society would frown upon I hear from others that they are encouraged and inspired to be more authentic, to take a risk in doing something even if others frown upon it.
As a menopausal woman, my filters are gone again. I have no tolerance for bullshit, tyranny, exploitation, greed and destruction or selling off of our natural resources. I have to speak up, I have to write and I know I am here to encourage and empower others in doing the same.