After an amazing 6 day trip to Arizona, I returned home on 28 June.
On 30 June, I attended a concert with my husband, V, to see the metal band, In This Moment perform at the Hard Rock Cafe in Orlando.
It was an enjoyable concert.
In This Moment’s singer Maria Brinks conveys a rather powerful stage presence that pairs incredibly well with her band’s heavy chord driven sound and passionate heavy metal lyrics. As well, Maria struck me as a consummate show-woman in that there was a theatrical and choreographic quality to her band’s show that was quite reminiscent of Lady Gaga in several ways that I hadn’t expected.
But it wasn’t until their final encore that Brinks’ message hit me in full force.
The song – ‘Whore’ – I later discovered is a song that In This Moment often performs as an encore.
Brinks’ speech that opened the song began with an intonation of John 8:7, thusly:
So when they continued asking Him, He lifted Himself up and said unto them, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”
This was followed by Brinks approaching center stage, wherein she spoke a litany of words
Stupid. Ugly. Useless. Unworthy.
(They would) call me – Whore.
I am (here to) take back the power of that word!….
(And since my device crapped out in the middle of things, here is a strikingly similar performance ^^^ from ITM’s San Francisco’s ‘Blood at the Orpheum’ in January 2014.)
Meanwhile, I stood in the audience, goosebumps rising on my skin, marveling over how Maria Brinks’ words resonated within me, as she spoke of her desire to reclaim the word, ‘whore.’**
Amidst cheers from the crowd, she continued on upon the importance of being unashamed of being who you are and what you represent.
She expressed the desire to inspire others to become secure in their sexuality, to be aware of their personal power…. and the power and freedom that is possible when we can come to be comfortable in our own skin.
~~~
Maria Brinks’ words struck me profoundly as I stood there considering how, just a few short years ago, such discussion of words like ‘whore’ would have dovetailed nicely into a ‘class’ I had taught several times concerning the inherent power of certain words to make thoughts and ideas manifest.
And how the reclaiming of certain loaded words could lead to spiritually cathartic work… in BDSM.
You see, a few short years ago – around the time when I re-discovered Loki’s presence in my life – I was teaching classes that concerned Words as Ordeal, and how words alone can create a very powerful intersection between spirituality and BDSM.
It was strangely evocative of my class on re-framing shame and transforming discomfort into spiritual energy.
Funny that I should be reminded of that particular portion of my personal history now.
Hm.
~~~
** Frontwoman Maria Brink told Steppin’ Out magazine that despite its title, this is an empowering, beautiful song for women. She explained: “Everything that the word ‘whore’ means, that song rebels against. That song is sarcastic. It’s kind of about learning how to let go of the power that we let other people hold over us with their words with their belittling. Nobody can control us, nobody has the power…. kind of freeing ourselves from the vulnerable, weak parts of us.”
“When somebody calls you something demeaning or hurts you,” Brink added, “we’re the ones letting them hurt us by letting their words be that powerful. It’s about letting go. If you listen to the words: I am the dirt you created. I am your sinner. I am your whore, but let me tell you something — you love me for everything you hate me for. It’s all reverse psychology.”
Brink created the term Women Honoring One Another Rising Eternally to give new meaning away from the derogatory connotation of the “whore” word. “This is an honest and raw movement that needs to be heard,” she exclaimed. “The message behind this song is taking back control. It is about taking the power from a disgusting and degrading word and turning it back around on the accuser. It’s about self-empowerment, love, and liberation.”
Guitarist Chris Howorth added: “One of the best things about the song ‘Whore’ is all the feelings and thoughts that the word alone provokes, and that’s great, but at the end of the day, it’s just a word. The only power it really has is the power that we give it. It’s really just about taking the power back from the word…”
I suppose that I should point out that I did do a little personal ritual last night. As described in a friend’s post, I asked Loki to come to me in whatever face that He chose.
I promised that I wouldn’t question it, and I promised that I wouldn’t dispute it, so here I am on what was delivered.
I have been told that I am with-holding. I am told that I refuse to be generous.
I find the most profound insult in being labeled selfish, in being considered self-centered.
I don’t like to be selfish, and I balk at being called self-centered, but sometimes I am.
Madness is a kind of selfishness. Madness has a certain air of self-centeredness.
Or at least, it does for me.
I went insane in 1997. I think that I may have always been, but I received a diagnosis of Bipolar Axis I – later changed to Bipolar Axis II – in 1997. The axis never mattered to me because what followed that diagnosis was an intense 3 years of self-examination in my life, broken into 50 minute hours that occurred three, sometimes four times a week.
And I hated every minute of it. Therapy felt like a terrifying exposure in front of a stranger -an educated stranger whom I was paying to stand emotionally naked in front of – a session with an inquisitor for no reason but to punish and perpetuate the theory that I needed to learn how to fit in with a world that I didn’t fit into, that I never fit into. I had to learn how to deal with others, but mostly, it felt like I was learning to sublimate myself.
It’s funny when I consider that I felt more feeling in my madness than I did in the 26 years that I had lived up to that point.
I suppose that I would have been considered mad as a child too, always being told how strange I was, how bad I was, how I had failed to be what was expected. There was definitely a disorder to my life, to my thinking – even if no one was calling it bipolar back then – that’s what I felt was reality. My struggle arose out of this desire to not be ‘disordered’, to not be separate.
To this day, I still feel separate. It is still a struggle at times to convince myself that if I am myself, if I show others who I really am, I can still be loved.
I’ve no doubt that my husband thinks that I am mad, crazy, out of my mind. But I believe that there are concessions that he’s willing to make until he gets tired of making them. But, to take a page from my madness, it is likely me who will tire of making concessions first. When we get tired of making concessions for each other, we’ve told each other, we have promised to move along. We have promised to separate.
But I am nothing if not determined. Some would call that loyal.
I know that we will separate someday. I know that I will be alone.
Because we live as we die – alone.
It is interesting to consider that concept now that I’ve written it there. Did I ever believe that? Do I believe that now?
Because, even as a child, I felt that no one should be alone in death. I used to wander around the most decrepit sections of New England cemeteries, inwardly noting dates and reading the names of those longest dead. Sometimes I would simply recite their names aloud, but mostly, I would whisper greetings to them, because it hurt me to think that they may have been forgotten. As far back as I can recall, I thought it the worst of all to be a person that had been forgotten, who had been ignored, simply because time had passed.
While it might be hardly surprising that I am estranged from my family today, I imagine that it could also be perhaps that I was a little girl that was feeling somewhat forgotten, possibly even ignored by those who claimed to love me, albeit often dysfunctionally.
I have trust issues. I have abandonment issues. And the madness that grows from the pit of my soul was screaming to be seen:
See me! Hear me! My emotions were a whirlwind, a storm that had been brewing for a long, long time. My anger was a beast in chains that was demanding for release. This is why the story of Fenrir appealed to that part of me.
There was nothing wrong with Fenrir; He is what He is. There isn’t any shame in what He represents. He is Madness. He is emotion unchecked, hunger unfulfilled, the forces of Nature out of control. He is Nature itself, the nature of all that we attempt to control.
“One of the most powerful art pieces from Burning Man: A sculpture of two adults after a disagreement, sitting with their backs to each other. Yet, the inner child in both of them simply wants to connect. Age has many beautiful gifts but one we could live without is the pride and resentment that we hold onto when have conflicts with others. The forgiving free spirit of children is our true nature. Remember this when you feel stubborn.”
Here are the artist’s words concerning his powerful piece:
“It demonstrates a conflict between a man and a woman as well as the outer and inner expression of human nature. Their inner selves are executed in the form of transparent children, who are holding out their hands through the grating. As it’s getting dark (night falls) the children start to shine. This shining is a symbol of purity and sincerity that brings people together and gives a chance of making up when the dark time arrives.”
I took this as a message from the Universe, reminding me to be more mindful of my words and my actions towards others.
Today was not a good day.
I was hurting, and in response, I allowed my emotions to direct my words and fuel my actions.
I hurt others today.
I’m sorry to those I hurt today. While I cannot undo the damage that I have done, I am trying to forgive myself and face tomorrow more mindfully.
I can only hope that tomorrow will be a better day.
I know that this may come a little late, as it is nearly mid-February, but this is my second year of doing My One Word.
While last year’s word was definitely Allow, my realization of this year’s word proved to be more subtle… but no less profound than Allow had been.
Though, unlike Allow, I didn’t grasp my One Word as quickly this year.
Actually, this year’s word is actually a compound word:
Self-Love
I have come to realize that I have been avoiding working on the concepts associated with Self-Love for a rather long time.
Though, in late January, it became quite clear to me that as much as I thought that I’d done pretty well learning how to Allow myself to feel and to act (rather than react) and to build upon other shadow work I’d done over the last year, there was definitely an aspect of that Allow shadow-work that I’d been avoiding.
And I got the impression from Them that I could not afford to ignore that aspect anymore.
Thus, I discovered that Self-Love was the missing piece.
~~~
Or, as They have often impressed upon me:
No one is going to love you exactly the way that you need to be loved, so you may as well learn to love yourself.
~~~
Tom Hiddleston reads Derek Walcott’s lovely poem, Love after Love:
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
bloodteethandflame 