It has been a rather pleasant week after coming home from Canada, steady, and routine. However this week it has hit me that this time in two weeks... I'll be on my way from Nashville, Tennessee to Alma, Michigan between retreats.
I am so beyond ready for these retreats it's not even funny. Ten months in the making and I'm counting down less than 10 days. I actually cannot wait for the quiet and to be able to briefly immerse myself in the charisms of these communities. It's the feast of Padre Pio today (or St Pius of Pietrelcina if you want to get all proper!) a bilocating, soul-reading, sometime stigmatic, Capuchin confessor and preacher, famous for pithy sayings such as,
"Pray, hope and don't worry."
It never ceases to amaze me how somehow, things fall into place and today especially getting back in touch with the practical wisdom of this Italian friar speaks to the place I am in. I'm praying and I'm hoping and I am passed worrying, as long as I am praying and hoping.
So Friday, I leave with Ron and Kathy Feher for Kansas and to sit in on a Living in Love weekend couple retreat. Then it's back to Philly on monday and then Thursday....
... within an adventure! It's... Adventureception!
So two tuesdays ago, I Katie invited me on a road trip to Nova Scotia, Canada. She had a wedding and I was itching for something different so I said yes! Canada is just beautiful. It took us 20 hours from Connecticut on the trip up... taking a route up through the northwest of Main and New Brunswick and then down the Nova Scotia peninsular. White Point beach was just beautiful between the Atlantic ocean and a lake surrounded by white birch forrest.
But enough of me talking... I took a video of the trip so let that do the talking...
Hello once again, and welcome to another instalment of this blog featuring my TOB immersion course.
One part of what has really been unfolding for me in the last week and a bit has to do with femininity and my identity. This is truly a major thing for me, but first a bit of context....
The running joke in my family is that should have been born with a Y-chromosome. When it comes to movies, I pick Braveheart, or Die Hard over Titanic (*gag*) or The Notebook (why the hell would it be entertaining to watch something that just makes you cry?). I have never afraid to run around, scrape my knee, climb trees or let an outfit get in the way of having fun (at least until I started paying for them). I was big sister to only brothers until I was eight years old, and when we played various versions of 'knights and damsels', the damsel was certainly not me! We took turns being the knight or dragon. I picked martial arts and horse riding (not as girly as you think) over netball or touch football, my most recent one being historic western sword fighting. Once I got out of an all-girls high school, most of my friends are male (barring a few delightful exceptions, you know who you are!)
In short, I liked to think of myself as a tomboy, however I also like pretty dresses, sparkly jewels and butterflies. Not that I would ever necessarily lead with this kind of description of myself. Ever. These idiosyncrasies would be discovered by the foolhardy people who decided to get to know me better.
I have always struggled with my identity as feminine simply because I am not a 'pearls and pastels' kind of girl. I hate pastels (unless its blue). I am not softly-spoken, in fact I have two volumes, loud and louder and certainly not delicate in declaring my opinion when necessary. I have callouses on my hands and feet, I like dangerous, pointy things and explodey things and fire. I never really felt 'feminine' unless I was wearing a pretty dress and even then, it was a persona. Not really me.
I used to go to these talks on the 'feminine genius' and Catholic femininity and I would come away frustrated and disgruntled. Here were these pretty, gentle women in chiffon skirts and mary-jane pumps giving these talks with the same kind of holy card Mary in the slideshow. You know the ones. Well it did not sit well with me at all. I had no really appreciation for Mary or desire to relate to pearled, pastelled and perfect Mother of God.
So I looked to literature and movies for more realistic role models. I really resonated with Tamora Pierce's first heroine, Alanna of Trebond a girl who wants to be a knight and disguises herself as a boy to do so, and changes the course of history and saves the kingdom in the process.
I also loved Katerina in The Taming of the Shrew (still my favourite Shakespeare play) and I especially loved Julia Stile's interpretation in 10 Things I Hate About You. I wanted to be her when I grew up (from the perspective of a 14 year old).
Then I was introduced to Lord of the Rings via the movies and I found my alter ego, Èowyn.
This is Èowyn, daughter of Èomund and niece of King Thèoden of Rohan (if you have never seen/read the books, read this brief summary before carrying on). All the time I was on this TOB immersion, she kept coming to my mind and I realised, she was more than an alter ego, she was my mirror. We all encounter people or characters in our lives that become a life-long presence because of their uncanny identicalness. Their ability to be a reflection to us allows us to see things that we might not have seen otherwise.
There was one scene in particular that kept popping up when I was praying and reflecting. This critical scene...
People who give Tolkien crap for putting women on pedestals and making them useless clearly haven't read the book. Èowyn is no delicate muppet on a pedestal. She is raw and so very real, someone who is willing to risk life, limb, identity and sanity for the people she loves. She comes to the battle of the age not as herself, but as a man and she fights as well as any of her peers. It is not coincidence that the only woman on the battlefield finds herself in an epic contest against an incredible evil, an evil that no man can defeat.
In the book the story plays out slightly differently with Èowyn revealing her identity before the Witch King attacks.
"But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn I am, Éomund’s daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him."
Why was this constantly popping up in my mind? Instead of just dismissing it and trying to 'focus'. I sat with it and asked the question. It was day two of the course and Christopher was on the warpath against the 'domesticated', pretty and tame Mary on holy cards. We had asked for her intercession as the 'crusher of heresies' at the beginning of the morning session and then Christopher proceeded to open up the Theology of Mary's body as the very place in which the God took on human flesh. This was not a pretty little thing that most artists depict... there was fire! And desire and God entered time and space and matter because he so wildly loved humanity and Mary conceived because she so wildly loved God!
What the heck does Mary have to do with Èowyn? Christopher effectively rehabilitated Mary for me and in doing so femininity. Èowyn mirrored to me what femininity is, it is a force of life-giving love. Èowyn's love for her uncle drove her to protect him. It is no coincidence that it was only a woman who could defeat the Witch King. Only a woman's ability to conceive and bear life into the world could overcome the vacuous, deathly absence that is the evil of the Witch King.
Christopher's unfolding of the Theology of Mary's body drew on several stories in the New Testament, the Annunciation, the wedding of Cana, John's Crucifixion and Revelations 12. When Christopher started on Revelations 12 (go read it here... and while your at it, read the rest of it. It is an awesome book!) The parallels with Èowyn and the Witch King started falling into place. This scene is not an allegory of Revelations (if you want that go read C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle)an nor was it ever intended to be.
However, there are some significant parallels... Èowyn is not pregnant but is a key player in the huge birth pangs of the Fourth Age of Middle Earth. Èowyn faces a monstrosity that knows only envy and death. Her victory over the Witch King ends a reign of terror and gives birth to a real chance of overcoming evil. Her battle with the Witch King leaves her wounded and in a wilderness, hovering between life and death.
For the first time, I saw Èowyn not just at war physically, but at war with herself, just like I was. Wrestling with my identity as a woman and my responsibilities and desires for my life and the course it would take as well as the world's expectations and ideas. I can only so humbly hope to show the kind of courage and integrity she had when it really mattered and embrace my femininity as a force of nature that it is.
I was, thanks to Èowyn and this particular Mary, Our Lady of Guadalupe...
... able to put to bed the stupid idea that femininity and Catholic femininity was about pearls, pastels and Holy passivity. This is something new I learned about this image. In her hand is a Maraca and her knee is bent so she is standing on one foot in a traditional Aztec dance. The moon at her feet (referencing Revelations 12) also resembled these Aztec demons who would terrorise humanity in the dark of night. The dance she is performing is the sacred victory dance of Aztec warriors. She is literally doing a victory dance on the devil's ass. That's my kind of femininity.
*If you want to know more about Theology of the Body, I highly recommend that you check out Christopher's website. If you want something a little more meaty, he gave two excellent talks at WYD in Sydney 2008. Download the first one here and the second one here.*
I have returned from the most awesome week of my trip so far. I attended a Theology of the Body (from now on referred to in the acronym TOB). Institute course called Theology of the Body I: Head and Heart Immersion Course in beautiful little Quarryville, Pennsylvania and taught by the most awesome Christopher West.
There I was surrounded by little beauties like these butterflies...
... whilst having a very real encounter with Beauty itself. Honestly, it is going to take a while to process everything that happened on that week so bear with me.
As I was being completely bombarded with Theology of the Body, a particular world kept persistently rising to the surface. I am a complete and utter Tolkien nerd. There. I said it. I own just about every book he has ever written (and slowly working my way through reading them). Those movies go on every time someone is sick in our house. I read the LOTR at least once a year and I am making my way through TheSilmarillion for the second time.
One of the reasons I love reading The Silmarillion is that every time after I put the book down, I had an intense urge to draw and to physically create something. However, I have always intentionally squashed that desire with "you're not good enough... you need to practice more... It will never be perfect..." So back to Theology of the Body, what connected The Silmarillion and TOB together was music.
God is a lover and he calls us with music, a symphony that every leaf, every stick, every rock, the very heavens and earth are a part of. God did not create the world and then add human beings as an after thought. He created the world for human beings and the world to be a sign of his love for us. The centre of the bible is a book known as the Song of Songs, music is a part of the essence of what it means to be human.
Tolkien knows this so profoundly that the first book in The Silmarillion begins with the creation of Middle Earth. Music was so profoundly connected to the essence of existence, that Middle Earth literally the fruit of the music played by the Ainur (spiritual beings who become guardians of Middle Earth) after being taught by Ilùvatar, the one creator. This is why Tolkien puts songs throughout the LOTR (and often annoys people by doing so), because the very earth that the fellowship walked on was created by music and every creature of Middle Earth, even Orcs was the fruit of music.
I was sitting in front of the blessed sacrament, trying to process all of the session on Genesis and Original Man the beginning of The Silmarillion hit me square in the face. It wasn't your average passing thought. I saw it. I hadn't picked up that book in over a year and suddenly the words came alive and I saw it. I had an uncontrollable urge to draw. So I did what I have not done before which was nearly trip over myself in haste to get my sketch book and pens and draw with wild abandon.
That was one of the most awesomely simple experiences I have ever had. Me, pen and paper. Did I produce Van Gogh or a Leonardo? Nope. Did I even bring the full vision of what I saw onto paper? Only the vaguest shadow. But I was free to create and articulate without this little voice stuffing it down for when I was 'qualified' to do so. The best part is I have not stopped doodling and sketching.
Maybe when I've refined a few things I may share some of those drawings, but as they are, they are not ready for any eyes but mine. This is but one small thing I have taken from that week. So stay tuned, another is coming.
*If you want to know more about Theology of the Body, I highly recommend that you check out Christopher's website. If you want something a little more meaty, he gave two excellent talks at WYD in Sydney 2008. Download the first one here and the second one here.*
So Friday, I leave with Ron and Kathy Feher for Kansas and to sit in on a Living in Love weekend couple retreat. Then it's back to Philly on monday and then Thursday....
