-- Cross Posted from Welcome to Womanhood

The Censor is part of our leftover survival brain. It was the part in charge of deciding whether it was safe for us to leave the forest and go out into the meadow. Our Censor scans our creative meadow for any dangerous beasties. Any original thought can look pretty dangerous to our Censor.

The only sentences/paintings/sculptures/photographs it likes are the ones that it has seen many times before. Safe sentences. Safe paintings. Not exploratory blurts, squiggles, or jottings. Listen to your Censor and it will tell you that everything original is wrong/dangerous/rotten.

Who wouldn't be blocked if every time you tiptoed into the open somebody (your Censor) made fun of you? The morning pages will teach you to stop listening to that ridicule. They will allow you to detach from your negative Censor.

-- Julia Cameron, The Artist's Way

I totally miffed it last night. When the world goes to chaos, it's time to just go with the creative energy. "Indian Outlaw" didn't go as planned. I could barely hear the music and it was well on its way before I could get in position on the floor.  The audience was fairly empty because everyone was in line to get food, and I started missing all my musical cues. Everything that could go wrong seemed to do so. All of my isolated mistakes from previous practice sessions seemed to all hit at once. I got confused at The Huntress and couldn't keep my balance in The Bow. I had to make up filler content on the spot to get back in sync. I just smiled and kept on going until I got backstage and beat myself up in my frustration.



But no one seemed to know about my mistakes. I was told, "I like your
costume" and "That was a pretty dance." If I had done it right, I should
have been feeding the energy to the audience and hearing "That was
awesome."



I waited what seemed like forever for the clown I was to follow with my
Shakira number. There were a lot of lulls between acts. The sound that
seemed to be working was that coming from the live singers. Even the
guitarist could barely be heard. And as much as I scanned the crowd, I
could find no clown.



I danced by the silent auction table to the singers on stage, reminding myself very sternly that I do this for fun. It served as the warmup I needed, the one I missed just trying to get to the church in time to do an equipment check before the auction began.



Then the drumming circle took the floor, but only right after I was asked if I wanted to go ahead and perform my next piece. I knew their improvisational rhythms were great--so I asked if I could dance with them. They indicated the space Deborah had cleared out earlier for my dance in front of the drums and I stood just outside the last drum on stage left until I could mimic the first beats with my body. I made my body a visual drum, trying to anticipate the next beat, shimmying, bumping and turning to the audience, dancing to them. I picked out groups of faces in the well lit audience and smiled my ecstatic pleasure at them as I let the energy course through my muscles.  



When I had started, the audience was half-packed. When the song was over, it was standing room only. Women in the back were dancing along, someone was clapping out the beat, ululations were very clear, and after a very long grueling of channeling the creative energy, the last beat was struck.



I figured I just barely had time to rest before my next routine if I bowed out immediately. I also thought that I had borrowed enough of the spotlight from the drumming troupe. As I stepped away from the floor into the audience, someone yelled, "Encore!," and it was clear the audience would not allow me to stray without another round. Not sure if I could repeat, I released myself to the gathering beat.



My improvisational ecstatic dance was light-years ahead of my choreographed routine. The frenzy was awesome, but I was starting to feel the sweat, loss of breath, and aching muscles threatening to overwhelm me. It was clear I was done for the evening.



Belly dancing takes a tremendous amount of energy. This was the first time I had ever performed more than one routine in public, and I did three! Not the two I expected, but still...This time I was approached by so many more people and started hearing my favorite phrases: "That was awesome!," "I know how difficult that is," and "How long have you been doing this?"



And there's the rub, the reason I shouldn't be beating myself up. It's been only four months since I started taking serious lessons. In that time, I've lost track of the number of performances I've done, as well as being admitted to a dancing troupe, and encouraged to keep performing! What has seemed like forever to me has in reality been a very short time. I just had major surgery almost 6 months ago!



Of course, I think I've hit my maximum amateur audience size. I can't think of any events I could appear at that would host more that 200 people, except maybe the pride festival next June. Joni has already reserved the space and is expecting me to dance. I will definitely want to dance with a live band playing.



Next weekend, I am performing at the Gender Conference After Party. I've got my workout practice cut out for me. I can't wait to share all this with my private instructor tomorrow. Wait until I tell her someone videotaped my performance and is emailing me a copy.



Hugs and God Bless,
Sofia Featherwind

-- Cross-posted from Welcome To Womanhood

Last Sunday, during meditation, I closed my eyes and tried to open myself to the divine. What I saw was a cerulean blue sky, crowded with fluffy cumulus clouds and, leaning over from the breast up, what could only be the feminine divine. As she reached her hand down to mine, I reached up to touch hers with mine. When our fingertips touched, I knew she was signaling an inside turn. God was leading me to dance.

And so I have danced. This week, I have spent over an hour-and-a-half running through my choreography, losing weight in the process. I am now down to 190 pounds and feeling good. On Tuesday, our group decided what moves we are going to add to the first 16 beats and proceeded to practice them while we drilled the entire choreography over and over again, sweat streaming down my body. Because the class stayed late, many of the girls left without a cool-down, and feeling that maybe we wouldn't be having one, I started to leave, too--until I noticed that the instructor went into cool-down routine. I joined the four other girls as we stretched our warmed up joints out. There are only two class periods left: one for the final drill, and one for the final assessment.

I took Deborah to a showing of Two-Spirits  at The Tower this week, and she took me to see Connected at Westminster College where I have my Belly Dance class. Both movies were well done and are a must to see when they come out on PBS.

Thursday evening I was asked if I can help someone do their makeup. I was a bit shocked, since it took me three makeovers to get mine right. The most I can do is show her the way I do mine to get her started; unlike the way I was snubbed when I asked for similar help in San Fransisco in 2007.

Deborah's off on her bicycle trip across the state of Utah for the next couple of weeks with Aere. I will miss her.

Last night, I went with Robin to support her while she supported her boyfriend. The venue was at a VFW out near a copper mine in Magma. The feel was incredibly redneck and I felt very anxious just stepping out of my car on the way to the bar. The high-heels I was wearing clacked noisily on the pavement, because the left heel was down to the nail. I'll miss that pair. It was the first pair of heels I ever bought, when I came out in San Francisco a few years ago. As I walked into the club, I was greeted by a couple of older vets, and one of them--Fred--said, "God, she's beautiful," as I walked toward my friend at the bar. Robin went to talk to him later and he kept asking her, "Who's your tall girlfriend? I like tall women." Later in the evening, Robin and I were accosted by a group of vets who were trying out all kinds of flirtatious come-on lines. At one point, one of the gentleman, shaking my limp hand, said, "You've got a grip." Knowing not to go there, I kept my silence.

The woman, Sandra, who designed my costume came over today to help me repair the bra and to check on me. When she arrived, I was near the end of my practice, struggling to get a twelfth time through the routine without a serious error and, of course, was drenched in sweat. When I told her what I was just doing, she said, "Let's see it." So, miraculously, I finally made it through the 12th repetition. I was elated when she said the words, "Much better." Of course, I had already come out to her a couple of weeks ago.  She had more questions, trying to understand my sexuality, especially wondering why I didn't let Deborah express her male side. Once I explained that it was because Deborah was doing it knowing I preferred women, we pressed our conversation further.

Sandra is eager to help me when I get back from Thailand. She lives just down the street. When I invited her to my Send-Off in two weeks, she begged me to remind her the day before. A belly dancer herself, she was curious. As she was leaving my place, she asked, "Are there any more like you?"

"What do you mean?"

"That like to dance [meaning belly dancing]."

"Not that I know of."

"You really are unique."

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie Jean

What I love about this paragraph is that, while it uses the fantastical realm and borders on parapsychology, it accurately reminds us that diversity is not the same as good or evil intentions. The recognition of diversity does not necessarily lead to good actions either. When someone knows they are different, they have something to offer the world through their differences.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie

Wednesday, February 17, 4:51 PM
I just got home and had a brownie after leaving work 15 minutes early. At 3:45, my phone rang and the cable tech who was supposed to be at my place after 5 PM said he was outside my outer apartment door and couldn't get in. He said that the service time was for sometime between 2:30 and 5:30. Er, that was Sunday's maintenance window, when the original tech couldn't solve the problem. I asked him if he could move on to his next job and come back to give me time to drive home.

5:01 PM
I opened a can of vegetarian chili, spiced it with turmeric and minced garlic and started it cooking. The neighbors are clomping up and down the stairs. The outer door is incredibly loud when it slams shut.

5:09 PM
The tech is here and just stepped out for a minute. The chili's also done. Maybe it'll go quick and I'll have a chance to go from "sir" to "maam" in time to go to Chalice Night.

5:15 PM
Tech is still outside. This is the second tech visit since Friday. He claims that the box outside is okay. While I'm disconnected from the outside world, the expected credit for loss of services is rising. But meanwhile, how am I going to pay my bills, since I use online bill pay?

5:29 PM
I just finished Chapter 9 of Everlasting and the tech has been in and out another time. At the church, people are now sitting together to eat. I wonder what they're having tonight.

5:40 PM
We've got internet! Technician says I have a fluctuating signal, probably from the tap. They'll be sending someone out to look at it tomorrow.. It looks like I have a chance at making it to centering--if I hurry!

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie 

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Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie Jean

What does it take to manipulate people so easily? There are elections and legislation in the works across the country. How can people know who to trust and who's manipulating them?

Perfection. If you can get people to believe that something is perfect, it is beyond question. They have a system of order that can't break down. And it gains momentum. As more people buy into the perfection, then everything else to them is a lie. Anyone who believes in something else is misled and misguided and needs to be "fixed," because the "love" them. By upholding the object of perfection, and demonstrating how it should be regarded, the demagogue becomes a prophet of perfection. Questioning is sin, and questioners are heretics. The population is cast in the role of the ignorant, because unlike the object of perfection, they are flawed.

If you want to establish a caste system, uphold it as supported by the object of perfection. Punish those who try to escape the caste they've been assigned. Soon, you will be able to make the changes you want, benefiting others only as much as necessary to benefit yourself. Your concepts become golden laws, themselves cast as perfect objects. Advancing the needs of all, progressivism doesn't matter to you. All you have to do is keep your congregation awed and happy.

Our society has several objects of perfection, and if you look closely you can see that they are protecting some institution to make people controllable. We know nothing is infallible, so what are losing by subscribing to the belief of each. Who is manipulating us, and what do they have to lose?

• The perfect gender binary--the belief that men and women are perfectly distinct. Advertising is selling us this. Because everyone feels flawed, they buy products to feel better. The church is also sells this, because they sell the concept of perfectability, and have a number of sheep ready to send where they want them.
• The infallible word of God--hundreds of regulations to make everyone feel imperfect, to also support the concept of perfectability, where some individuals strive to be more perfect than others.

I leave the following as an exercise. For each object, think about who is proclaiming it, and what they have to gain or  protect:

• The perfect job
• The perfect mate
• The perfect body
• The perfect path to God
• Anything else that comes to mind as being hyped as perfect.

If we recognize that imperfection is natural, and there is nothing perfect, we realize that all we have to take into account the here and now. We have to check our principles. Some are timeless, and others are not. We need to encourage each other to question, so we can learn and live harmoniously with imperfection. We need to include it, account for it, and respect it, because we all are, after all, imperfect.

I have one more perfection to sell you on:

• The perfection of imperfection

Important elections and legislation are occurring across the country. If you are being sold that something is perfect, question it.

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie

I've now got the new LiveJournal Messenger. My Windows Live ID is sophie_jean@livejournal.com. Sign up now and we can chat!

I am getting so sick of 2 verses from Leviticus being thrown out as reasons that GLBT people are mentally ill and need therapy. People who claim to be Christians point out this is the infallible word of God and must be true. But they say they same for the words of Jesus. Jesus was descended from a prostitute who saved Israel, a bisexual man who established Israel as a nation (David), and a lesbian woman whose words to her partner are part of many marriage ceremonies today (Ruth). Because he was considered a teacher in the Jewish community, he had to be well aware of his lineage and its significance. He accepted the unconditional love of a prositute (Mary Magdalene) and her brother (Lazarus). The disciple Matthew reports that he acknowledged, in reference to an argument among the Levites, that gay and transgender people are born that way. When asked what law was the greatest, he stated that the law of the Lord boils down to two priniciples, "Love the Lord your God with all your soul, and all your strength and all your might" and "Love your neighbor as yourself," which requires self-acceptance, inclusion and a search for a spiritual connection. He also disavowed the Levites' Law as "Moses word, not my Father's."

Leviticus was a codification of the Israel law enacted by the Levites, the legislature of Israel. It was specific to their community, geared toward nation building, and as all nation building tends to be fascist in nature, expousing a superior race, so Leviticus can be expected to have the same glaring problems. There are good laws, just as we have good laws based on universal principles, and there are bad laws just as we have bad laws, that need to be expurged from our law books. Some of the laws, such as the two in question, have been interpreted with regards to their time by the modern Jewish community to not apply to GLBT people.

So, who would these "fundamentalist Christians" rather believe? Jesus, who preached a better way, or the legislature of old Israel. It seems the evidence is in that they picked the wrong guide.

Jesus was very aware of LGBT people, and did not condemn them but sought them out to encourage them. You can find out more about the biblical support of LGBT at http://www.whatwouldjesusdo.org

Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie