Darkness
I've been wrestling recently with how to explain that I'm now working seriously with a "dark goddess" as part of my spirituality. It can be tough enough to describe Paganism in a way that people a) take seriously and b) don't get scared by -- but talking about working with an underworld goddess, and one with something of a bad reputation at that, doesn't make it any easier.
Not coincidentally, I've run across some discussions about bdsm recently that focus on the "dark" aspects as part of the attraction. Some people engage in bdsm because they delight in the sense of transgression. They like the thought that they're doing something "bad".
That's never been my kink.
What suddenly became clear to me during a discussion on this topic in another forum, is that I've contributed to my own frustration by allowing myself simply accept the whole "dark/light" dichotomy in the first place. Again, it's a weakness of the Queen of Swords archetype: a tendency to see or analyze things as an either/or model.
The best way to short-circuit my own difficulties is to liberate myself from the dark or light, or dark vs. light model -- and then refuse to allow any conversations to get bogged down in it.
The other way is to be sure that I am comfortable discussing "darkness" as a range of things: as the shadow, as what is hidden, as a place of transformation, as chthonic. Yes, it can also be used as a symbol for "evil" -- and yes, I'm doing some reclaiming of things that have been typically categorized as evil (underworld deities, bdsm activities, etc.) but that doesn't mean that I believe they are evil or that I should let that history set the tone of the discourse.
It's been interesting to look at how my own attitude toward the "darkness" of bdsm has shifted over the years. I am able to engage in it -- and enjoy it -- at a much deeper level since I stopped feeling shame, accepted what I'd been told were "dark" (bad, unhealthy, not acceptable) aspects of my sexuality, and allowed my own desires and limits to frame my play -- not those of social expectations, bad pornographic novels, or my partners' desires. By allowing my own desires to "come to light" and accept them, I liberated myself from shame. I no longer see it as "dark/harmful" and therefore I enjoy it more.
The biggest personal taboo I have -- and by that I mean something that is sometimes perceived as desireable but is always outside my limits -- is true non-consensuality. "Consensual non-consent" -- a scene or play in which the participants pretend one has no choice is simply that: play. But I found that after such play it was extremely important to me to re-establish the fundamental equality, respect, and love with my partner. Without that, I felt that I did go to a dark place in the negative sense, and it left me feeling violated, shamed, injured in my psyche.
If we remain within the dark/light paradigm, then language falls short. There's positive darkness, but there is also negative darkness: the darkness of violence, abuse, wanton destruction, cruelty, and etc. The only way I want to go into that darkness is to shine a light to eradicate it.
And maybe this is where things come full circle for me. As a priestess of a "dark goddess" part of my work is to be familiar with both positive and negative darkness and able to work in and with both. Ereshkigal is a mistress of the descent. She presides over the ordeals which overtake us -- whether voluntarily or otherwise -- and helps us transform them into growth experiences, to gain strength and wisdom from them. She is a guardian of boundaries (in contrast with Inanna, who transgresses boundaries) and her stories illustrate the power of righteous rage when she is violated.
I aspire to be an ordeal mistress, someone who can facilitate rituals which promote transformation, healing, and/or transcendence in the participant(s) through extremes of sensation and challenge. I want to be able to help a person move something they have kept in darkness into the light, whether that is the pain and shame of past injuries, or their own hidden strength and power -- or both, or more. (I also want to do this outside the context of ritual ordeals.)
Darkness can be the depths of the compost pile where things break down, ferment, and explode into new life. Darkness can be the quiet room where contemplation leads to peace. Darkness can be the apophatic perception of the Divine.
Darkness can be the shadows which scare us, our own personal monsters, which we have to face in order to claim their power.
To say "dark bad, light good" is to miss -- and misunderstand -- the richness of possibility for what can be found in the darkness.
Not coincidentally, I've run across some discussions about bdsm recently that focus on the "dark" aspects as part of the attraction. Some people engage in bdsm because they delight in the sense of transgression. They like the thought that they're doing something "bad".
That's never been my kink.
What suddenly became clear to me during a discussion on this topic in another forum, is that I've contributed to my own frustration by allowing myself simply accept the whole "dark/light" dichotomy in the first place. Again, it's a weakness of the Queen of Swords archetype: a tendency to see or analyze things as an either/or model.
The best way to short-circuit my own difficulties is to liberate myself from the dark or light, or dark vs. light model -- and then refuse to allow any conversations to get bogged down in it.
The other way is to be sure that I am comfortable discussing "darkness" as a range of things: as the shadow, as what is hidden, as a place of transformation, as chthonic. Yes, it can also be used as a symbol for "evil" -- and yes, I'm doing some reclaiming of things that have been typically categorized as evil (underworld deities, bdsm activities, etc.) but that doesn't mean that I believe they are evil or that I should let that history set the tone of the discourse.
It's been interesting to look at how my own attitude toward the "darkness" of bdsm has shifted over the years. I am able to engage in it -- and enjoy it -- at a much deeper level since I stopped feeling shame, accepted what I'd been told were "dark" (bad, unhealthy, not acceptable) aspects of my sexuality, and allowed my own desires and limits to frame my play -- not those of social expectations, bad pornographic novels, or my partners' desires. By allowing my own desires to "come to light" and accept them, I liberated myself from shame. I no longer see it as "dark/harmful" and therefore I enjoy it more.
The biggest personal taboo I have -- and by that I mean something that is sometimes perceived as desireable but is always outside my limits -- is true non-consensuality. "Consensual non-consent" -- a scene or play in which the participants pretend one has no choice is simply that: play. But I found that after such play it was extremely important to me to re-establish the fundamental equality, respect, and love with my partner. Without that, I felt that I did go to a dark place in the negative sense, and it left me feeling violated, shamed, injured in my psyche.
If we remain within the dark/light paradigm, then language falls short. There's positive darkness, but there is also negative darkness: the darkness of violence, abuse, wanton destruction, cruelty, and etc. The only way I want to go into that darkness is to shine a light to eradicate it.
And maybe this is where things come full circle for me. As a priestess of a "dark goddess" part of my work is to be familiar with both positive and negative darkness and able to work in and with both. Ereshkigal is a mistress of the descent. She presides over the ordeals which overtake us -- whether voluntarily or otherwise -- and helps us transform them into growth experiences, to gain strength and wisdom from them. She is a guardian of boundaries (in contrast with Inanna, who transgresses boundaries) and her stories illustrate the power of righteous rage when she is violated.
I aspire to be an ordeal mistress, someone who can facilitate rituals which promote transformation, healing, and/or transcendence in the participant(s) through extremes of sensation and challenge. I want to be able to help a person move something they have kept in darkness into the light, whether that is the pain and shame of past injuries, or their own hidden strength and power -- or both, or more. (I also want to do this outside the context of ritual ordeals.)
Darkness can be the depths of the compost pile where things break down, ferment, and explode into new life. Darkness can be the quiet room where contemplation leads to peace. Darkness can be the apophatic perception of the Divine.
Darkness can be the shadows which scare us, our own personal monsters, which we have to face in order to claim their power.
To say "dark bad, light good" is to miss -- and misunderstand -- the richness of possibility for what can be found in the darkness.