Sustenance on my journey

The road less traveled?

Last night, I was doing some last-moment shopping at Barnes and Noble (dangerous ground for me - I could live in a bookstore and never come out again). I had gotten the item I wanted, a CD, and was resolutely headed out the door, determined not to be snagged by any of the zillions of delicious books. Alas, it was not to be. I was walking down the aisle, not really thinking or paying attention, when almost of its own volition my hand grabbed up a book on one of the table displays (note to Shannon: it was Lefty; apparently, she wants to go on this journey too. Fred had nothing to say in the matter). The book was "Dance of the Dissident Daughter," by Sue Monk Kidd. I opened it up and started reading without even looking to see what the book was about. As it turned out, this book was just about perfect for where I am in life right now. It's the story of the author's awakening to the patriarchal mores in this life - and her journey both intellectually and spiritually to being reborn as a woman, to use somewhat cliched language. I can't say enough good about it, or how it really hit home with me. I didn't buy it (yet), but I stood there and read it for a good 15 minutes. So much of what she said felt so familiar to me, so true; reading some of the passages brought tears to my eyes. The fact that I simply plucked it up off the table not knowing what it was feels like more than serendipity, though I don't know what I'd call it. In the past several years, I've started to reclaim who I am, who I could or should be, as a human being and as a woman. As I've alluded in some of the below posts, I've been on a stumbling detour for some time now; I'd lost my way. I am beginning to find my way back. It's not a fast process - it's more of a slow and often tentative unfolding, rediscovery, something like that. I've been reading a lot of feminist literature both online and off, and a lot of stuff about racism and homophobia too. I've always been aware in one way or another that many forms of oppression exist, but it all seems to be coming into clearer focus at this point in my life. The author was about my age when she started on her path - so maybe it's somewhat a function of age. Also, like the author, I was steeped in Christianity for much of my life; my parents remain of the evangelical breed of Christian. I consider myself a Christian, but I've been uncomfortable with my beliefs for some time now. I haven't been willing to explore why or how (too taxing! too hurtful!), but the thought that I must find some clarity in my beliefs has been like a burr in my brain for a very long time. I think now is the time to begin delving into these issues - my feelings about God, about gender relations, about oppression, about being female. About being me, without kowtowing to the males in my life and also without becoming narcissistic. Clarity with grace is what I seek - survival with joy. The ability to strip away the layers with honesty. The sort of transformation I speak of has a tendency to be painful; sometimes being honest with oneself is the most difficult thing of all. I want it, though. I want it very badly. ***************************** This post feels unfinished and inelegant, but I wanted to get it out there. The polish will come with time. Until later, ta.