Us All Along.

My Sister, Steph, over at The Irresponsible Blogger, wrote a bomb-ass piece that tells our story. Inspired by 21 Pilots lyrics in Jumpsuit, I feel grateful to all who’ve been brave enough to heal the wounds religion beats into our being… listen to the song while you read and if you need anyone…

✨The Irresponsible Blogger✨

I opened the double doors to the outside..

The sun is bright

First time I saw myself in that kind of light…

Backs away further

Can’t bear the weight of that steeple.. 

Fooled the whole time

Thinking I was draped in white

Footsteps backwards away from the people…

No. She’s dark inside..and built by their lies.

No. She’s dark inside…and built out of spite.

I’ll walk away bravely, away from heavy doors.

But my sister is still in there pacing the floors..

I can’t leave her..in there… her beautiful mind…standing in between pews..taking in lies….

She told me, “Stephy just pray…don’t give up..Please…..Don’t leave yet.”

I told her,

 “Sister….I’ll be right there..but you’ll have to grab my throat and lift me in the air.”

“and If you need anyone..I’ll stop my plans but you’ll have to tie me down and then break both my hands.” 

She said, “I’m always here.” 

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You Feel Me? Rambling Prose, maybe Rhyme…IDK IDK

Steph—-you will be the only one who grasps each line

When we were little girls we used to sing about sipping cider, now we sip our coffee before the sun

We don’t talk about what’s to come, we talk about the past. Reminiscing on our lessons, on the things that we’ve done

We laugh and we have answers—-but then, we were little girls whose dreams were lost in the patriarchy

We ponder aloud, “Who could we have been? Where could we be?” Because no matter how hard we love, this shit is still bitter tasting

“Did I ever belong to me?” I ask. She says, “No, we never did and oh my God- I was so fucking stupid.”

Don’t say that. Don’t say that; It wasn’t our choice that the system degraded us to nothingness

The only goal then was marry someone and have some children…

On our own, we held no worth

But my beautiful sister, we know now—-we know, we know, we know

We know so deeply its reshaped our bones

You know its not just keeping tabs, its using what we have, to seal up the wounds in the gaps where it stabs

That, or bleed out, bleed out—- I think they’d  rather the latter than to simply sit down and ask, “What’s the matter?”

“Oh the places you’ll go and the places you’ll see,” I grew up on that shit but its forsaken me

False promises, Seuss. Don’t say that to little girls, it causes them to dream while their under the roof, or glass ceiling really

But——We are who we needed; We are who we needed. And, We have all we need, behind our eye-lids

We let Silence do it’s work and then for our kids—-we sit with it, no teaching-no preaching—just being

Can’t wake the dead with a kiss, maybe we can rouse them with our metaphorical fists

Cause I’m not ever going to stop blasting this shit, if I ever do might as well slit my wrists—-but only with a butter knife 

So as not to cut too deep, I’m not letting go of this world, I don’t need it- but it needs me

I’m rambling on at this point because my coffee is getting cold, and as the warmth leaves my cup, my ideas start to fold

So now its time for me to sit here and think, of all the things that mean nothing and are everything to me

Rambled and Written by: Stacy Johnson (Day 2 Crone, 6-26-19)

Grow from Me

What will I become?
Buried under earth, dirt
Consciousness gone, but perhaps a rebirth

I do not know-I cannot say
Don’t ever tell me to believe your way

Our ancestors buried their dead
Curled up-fetal, knees to chest

Hoping like seeds give way to flowers
For a regeneration from the Earth’s womb powers

For us to return in some beautiful state
Where our life is built on the lessons we take

Like those before, let vultures chew to my bones
Strip me right down to my internal stones

Paint me red, like blood from the womb
Grant me the solace of a cosmological tomb

Resting in the form of the way I became
Atoms, molecules, cells, a Name

Earth Water Fire Wind—-stones hold their magic, cover me with them 

Maybe earth’s pulse will warm the marrow inside
And evolve me slowly from matter to mind

What will I become?
Buried under earth, dirt
Consciousness gone, but perhaps a rebirth

Written by Stacy Johnson (June 24, 2019. Cycle Day 29 WW)

The Temple of Me

~~~~~~~~A poem about where I’m at as a newly-turned 35 year old!!~~~~~~~~

THE TEMPLE OF ME

Looking across my body, a mosaic of sea glass tops my skin,
And I ask you now to sit with me and
Drink me in,
Drink me in,
Drink me in

My eyes are still that vibrant green, holding sparkling light within.
No, those aren’t crows feet, that’s where Sophia left Her print.
Can you handle who I am now and
Drink me in,
Drink me in,
Drink me in

There’s this thinking crease across my forehead, and it makes me share a grin,
Cause once I thought I knew it all and you loved the woman in me then, but can you make more room to love the woman I’m becomin’?
Won’t you come and sit with me and
Drink me in,
Drink me in,
Drink me in

My smile still lights the blazes, of your direct attention, and those laugh lines now make their way up, to my dancing eyes within.
And I ask you to always make me laugh and
Drink me in,
Drink me in
Drink me in

Have you noticed my shoulders and arms are stronger, then they’ve ever been? Because I learned to carry the wounds of my sisters, of my fellow women.
Can you spare a minute to listen and
Drink me in,
Drink me in,
Drink me in

When You see my my bare breasts fireside, do you breathe praise for the flow they’ve given, how my very own body was the tree of life for our youngest children- take a moment and honor the sacred and
Drink me in,
Drink me in,
Drink me in

Now I have a softened tummy, rounded hips, and marked up skin, Call me your Goddess Persephone, I nourished your seed and brought about its blossomin’,
Can you sit and worship me for me and
Drink me in,
Drink me in,
Drink me in

And I’ve always had those legs you loved, they are strong but not thick or thin, and now they’ve carried 5 human lives, can you grasp the magnitude of my body’s benevolence?
Can you come and help me carry on and
Drink me in,
Drink me in,
Drink me

And I’ve manifested this rounded ass in my womanhood transfiguration, yes-she is bouncier now, than my teenage version. And you just cannot help but touch, you say she demands your concentration.
Will you always speak with adoration and
Drink me in
Drink me in
Drink me in

And when we’re in the shadows and you gaze upon my 35 year old skin, your eyes light up like candles and I think that’s my personal heaven. I am a divine being, made of earth-water-fire-and wind, and I deserve to be on your altar as you
Drink me in,
Drink me in,
Drink me in

Most of all, more than anything—-you’ve watched my mind and heart expand, and you listen attentively about my evolution that was completely unplanned.
But you don’t run off fearfully, you pour your cup, listen, and grin, and as you sip your coffee, you
Drink me in,
Drink me in,
Drink me in

By: Stacy Johnson, June 6-8, 2019
(Mother, cycle day 12-14)

‘Cept for when I do

Do I believe in an afterlife? No!!!

‘Cept for when I do….

When my grandmother’s voice from beyond the grave, finally breaks through

Do I believe in re-incarnation? No!! That is too silly,

‘Cept for when I do…

When I become aware of the thread that’s linking me to you

Do I believe I’ve lived past lives with lessons to behold? No!! That cannot be true,

‘Cept for when I do…

When my dreams come with future wisdom and I drink in the deja vu

Do I believe in the guidance of the fates beyond? No!!! I really, truly do not

‘Cept for when I do…

When every moment from my life has me standing here with you

Do I believe in soul ties, binding spirits quietly? No!!! And, I probably never will,

‘Cept for when I do…

When my sister sits across the country sharing the same story I just told too

Do I believe in magic by the light of the silvery moon? No!!! Absolutely not,

‘Cept for when I do…

When by its light I break the need to speak ANYTHING but my truth

Do I believe in spells and candle light to bring about something new? No!!! I never ever could,

‘Cept for when I do…

When as the candle flame burns away my energy is renewed

Do I believe in Signs from the Sun-the Moon-the Stars? No!!! That’s a bunch of whoopty whoo,

‘Cept for when I do

When it all aligns in perfect time to reflect my being from the expansive blue

Do I believe in Gods and Goddesses? No!!! HA! Blatantly false–I could never presume,

‘Cept for when I do

But only when our bodies unite and we give each other life from just us two

Do I believe in Logic and Reason? Yes!!! They will always always WIN,

‘Cept for when they ask me to silence my experiences within.

Written By: Stacy Johnson 6-1-19, (cycle day 7, maiden)

I Cannot Go to Church Today

At this point in my life, church has me jacked up——-The role that patriarchy has played in the Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) and its dominion over the world is indignant and needs to be explored by not only women, but men. If you practice ANY of these religions and have not done the hardy work of understanding how patriarchy has helped in silencing, erasing, and controlling women- this is a call to do just that. 

Women complicit in the pain and wounds that patriarchy subjugates on other women are abundant, especially those who participate in these religions (many religious women unintentionally support their own cages). Therefore, we must do this hard work alone, because sadly, folks are too comfortable to make changes that can benefit women. 

So, let me speak some truth to the nature of the feminine wisdom. For far too long, women have been made to carry the burden of the Eden Myth. But are you aware that in the earliest of days the serpent was a symbol for that of feminine wisdom and goddesses? Yes, snakes were thought of in relation to the innate divinity that women alone captured. Can you see the beginning of patriarchy unfold, as the writer of Genesis uses Eve and a serpent (her own internal wisdom) to be the fall of man?? Even WAY back then, finding a way to pin sin, death, and darkness on the shoulders of women ultimately leading an entire world view to deem women in need of a man’s guidance. How utterly TERRIFYING, that such a fear of womanly wisdom lingered even then….

Follow me, because of such ideals embedded in “holy” scriptures women have been in roles of submission and servitude for damn near all of modern humanity. When we look to the Bible which was written by Men for Men, we have to look HARD to find the female voice, because it’s almost non-existent. Even our modern hymns and liturgies, prayers, and creeds flow with male pronouns. This is not fair. And yet women are so numb to it, they hardly notice….

But, enter Jesus who was mostly egalitarian by nature. Women chose to even fund his travels. After his death, women were full participants in leading, teaching, guiding all-yes-even men. It stayed that way for close to 200 years. Until Paul’s epistle of 2nd Timothy makes the rounds. It is at this point, based on Paul-a recovering fundamentalist Jew, whose entire world view was wrapped up in women being 2nd class citizens and frequently abused and mistreated, shares in his letter that women should keep silent, neither teach-preach-or lead men. Paul never met Jesus, Paul did not ever see that Jesus had been equal in his treatment of all. And yet we apply his words to our modern day world-view, BACK UP- Paul! 

Then on the timeline of Christianity, things get political and ‘Following Jesus’ for women, takes a completely submissive role. From church councils all the way to home worship, women would become the  behind the scenes handmaids.   I cringe when I read the words the Church Fathers spoke over us… but here we are perpetuating a religion that doesn’t care to even speak kindly about us.

Because of this, most religious women have cut themselves out from the voice of the Divine Feminine. ‘She’ will try to rouse us, shining light on glimpses of patriarchy in our own lives, but we silence her. Often, women don’t go looking for their Voice as they are used to the roles patriarchy has established for them and because it is believed woman should be non-confrontational. Ever noticed how men and women who implore patriarchal roles dislike powerful and vocal women??

There are sleeping women- those who will not even attempt to believe there is anything wrong with or more to the story than  what we currently live out. There are those who are tossing and turning, wrestling with the reality that they hold their own worth and wisdom. And there are women who are awake—SCREAMING to let us partake in EVERY TASK that we so desire with BLATANT EQUALITY, we have found our inherent voice and our worth—-the voice of our Feminine Ancestors rattling the very marrow of our bones. 

I ask you now to please, please do this work, the work required to dismantle these norms in your own world, not  only for yourselves but our children. Sue Monk Kidd once said, “It’s a peculiar thing, isn’t it? How women can prefer the safety of cages to the hazards of freedom.” 

Until all can look at women and serpents and think, “Beautiful Goddesses full of the Wisdom of the Ages” and not “lust, temptation, sin, death,” women will forever be in cages.

Thanks for reading, friends. We must STOP allowing religion to pit woman against herself, against her own value, worth, and wisdom. Allow yourself to see it for what it is. And, if you partake in a structure that props up patriarchy as a norm, please invest in extensive research, although it will potentially unravel your world view. This is the work that MUST be done. We cannot settle for comfortable—- we deserve more. We deserve Truth.

💜🖤💜 ***This was written based on the notes I took while reading, Dance of the Dissident Daughter, by Sue Monk Kidd—— required reading, Friends.

For them…

	

Time

Isn’t it strange how life is always changing, around the sun, we are rearranging,
But so perfectly in place each and every day that 24 hours is always the same.

And yet, I’m spinning, we’re spinning. And I’m flipping out, no wonder my head is so filled with doubt,
Life is happening on a cosmic merry-go-round.

I’m always twisting and twirling, saying, “slow this thing down,” 
but to my surprise there’s no way to get out.

So I sit here with that headache from those rides at the fair, the ones where you vomit into the thin spinning air.

I didn’t buy this ticket, I didn’t stand in a line, but somehow I’m on it and this ride is called Time….

It won’t stop, no!
Won’t even slow down,
but sometimes the rotation brings me back around,

To the places I’ve been, 
to the feelings I’ve felt, 
to the moments she left me to breathe and be still.

The moments she stepped out, 
so that I could take in
the magnitude of the situation
to replay them again.

She left me in childhood, when summer sun would not fade.

She left me and my sister in the yard when we played.

She left me in the school halls with newly learned facts.

She left me when I saw Him carrying his backpack.

She leaves me in moments when the passion is great.

She leaves when new life from my body greets its first days.

She leaves me when grief is so big that I must just lay.

She leaves me when pain etches it’s own pathways.

And though she leaves me quick, to slowly embrace,
She returns with a vengeance to pick up the pace.

For time must move faster with each year we age,
so that when the end comes, a blur is all we must face.

The haze from the people and places we’ve passed, unfocused for it was all spinning so fast.

Did you catch glimpses of the sun and sky, did you stop to take in the thoughts behind your eyes?

And then in an instant she decides to stand still 
and she whispers that she hopes your life was a thrill.

And with her departing, your brain hits rewind, 
and in one final breath you close your eyes,
and relive the whole ride of your journey in Time.

By: Stacy Johnson, 5-1-19