Making Peace with Man
I do what I do because of my Dad.
I'm a wounded healer.
My clamouring for external validation in the arms of God and man was in direct proportion to the absence of paternal love I experienced as a teenage girl.
I became a born-again Christian, when "Jesus bloody Christ!" was a common curse-word in our household.
I fixated on unavailable boys as an unconscious way of stirring up the heart-ache of unworthiness.
I pursued a degree and career that looked high-flying, but was far more about conforming to expectation than my heart's desire.
I sleep-walked into marriage with a decent enough man, imagining unconscious bonding to be love.
Truth be told, I didn't really know what love was. Nor the secrets my heart would have whispered, had it not grown silent in a world of deaf ears.
Infidelity (on my part) led to serial monogamy, led to marriage number 2.
Another unconscious bonding, this time precipitated by the urgent ticking of my biological clock.
Infidelity (on his part) led to single motherhood, aloneness, poverty and desperation.
And finally, then, my healing quest began.
Tantra, yoga, meditation, counselling, bodywork, energy healing, dance.
And so many lovers, a part of me is ashamed to admit to it.
Ecstasy and wild abandon - yes. Pain in bucket-loads - yes again.
Finding my way, as a dawning of new consciousness emerged and the awakening of Shakti became my soul path.
And SHE, of course, bringing to awareness all the shadow stuff. Over and over.
As the longing for God and man persisted.
I yearned so deeply, devotedly, to merge with the Beloved, that I projected Him onto every lover.
Unable to separate childhood wound from spiritual quest.
Escaping into romanticised highs, followed by face-slap lows.
Repelling good men. Attracting those, who were the perfect match to reveal to me my beliefs that "there are no conscious men wanting commitment" and "they just want me for sex."
Blaming them for my own lack of honesty and self-responsibility.
Stubbornly resisting fessing up to my co-dependence.
Call me a slow learner, but at a certain point, it finally dawned that the common denominator in all of this was me.
And me was all I ever could change.
I vowed to blame no more. Love my self more. And re-dedicated myself to healing this wound with the masculine and men.
The more I delved, the more my heart broke open in realisation of the long-standing resentment I'd been carrying.
All the ways I'd manipulated, mistrusted and dishonoured.
How my father and that patriarchal God I'd first turned to had imprinted themselves into my psyche as "the masculine."
When, in actual fact, His most noble, inspiring qualities were also there to be embodied. And the more I cultivated them, the more I saw them around me.
Meditation. Education. Forgiveness. Awareness. Compassion. Dialogue.
These were - and are - my tools for healing and integration.
Coming to know God and man in a whole new way.
Discovering God as the Source of such an all-encompassing Stillness, that I am met in every moment.
Opening to man as true and trusted friend, and conscious lover.
Meeting him from a clearer, cleaner place.
Integrating with my inner Divine Masculine in a mutually devoted co-creative partnership.