Keeping the Sacred Flame

(written by Cynthia)
Parents live a special sort of waking nightmare sometimes. Children ARE the little flames of our lives that we must “keep” carefully. As difficult as the job is when they are small and utterly dependant, it’s even harder as they grow into teenagers. Adolescence is the time when they must test limits and take some independent action to build their confidence and find out about that nasty life experience called “consequences.” So how do we shelter them while still giving them freedom? How do we nurture their Divine nature and help grow their Flames?

We had neighbors across the road a few years back with twin sons. My kids used to invite them over to play, and they never came. If baffled us, we wondered if we had somehow given offense. Then one night, the mother appeared on our doorstep in her nightgown, shaking and terribly upset. We thought something truly dreadful had happened and as she related how her husband was recovering from surgery, we were poised to call for an ambulance since we imagined some horror of busted stitches and bleeding. But no, that wasn’t it. It was springtime and someone had put an egg in her mailbox. She had just checked the mail before bed, having forgotten earlier, and here was this “horror, obviously meant to harass and terrorize us”. Now, mind you, this was well before 9-11 and the overblown rhetoric of terror in every sentence. She felt harassed and terrorized by an EGG? An obvious springtime prank…a week off of Easter?

In the months that followed, it became clear that parental phobias ruled that house. Her boys were never allowed to take part in out of class school activities, nor go to anyone’s house to play. As they grew older, still forbidden to leave the yard when their parents were at work, they spent their afternoons cutting down small fir trees and burning them in the house fireplace. They were forbidden to answer the doorbell, even as teenagers. I occasionally asked my daughter about them, she was the same age and had a class or two in high school with them.

“Mom, they are just weird.” She had little else to say, as they apparently hardly spoke to anyone and participated in no activities. It was almost a relief when their parents sold the house and moved. Such closing in was heartrendingly abnormal.

So, what is normal? One cannot let teens just do any old thing and endanger themselves out of existence. Because they do think they are immortal. What happens to others just cannot happen to them. I used to say “Give me my blindfold, please,” when I knew mine were doing something spectacularly stupid that I had no control over. We did all the usual anti-drug, anti-drinking talking, but gave them wine and beer at family events so they would know what the effects felt like. They all survived their teens and even the runaway bratling is in his early 20’s now.

But not all teens survive. Recently, here in Western Washington, a thirteen year old boy died doing something that is almost rite-of-passage material. At a place called Deception Pass, hills rise above the water and at the top of the hills are caves. Teens love the caves.
They go there to party, celebrate 18th birthdays, have secret gatherings with each other and the whole almost ‘Dead Poets Society” bit. It’s a climb to the caves, and not for the faint of heart. And last month, this young boy fell; boaters on the water saw him strike the water, face down. They hastened to the spot, searched desperately, but his body has not been recovered. His parents are naturally devastated.

I am trying to tell myself that their reaction is natural as an outgrowth of their grief, but the amount of “Oh yes, you are so right,” they are getting is making me twitch. They want the caves “closed” permanently. Either gated up or blown up so they no longer exist. Now, this is a historic park in the state and the caves have always been there. Even if they now are graffiti marked by jubilant teens and bear no sign of Washington State’s illustrious past, I have to wonder why such a drastic action is needed. Yes, teens will go to the caves and other dangerous places. This is the first death at this popular teen hangout. It may or may not be the last. But what do we do?

Questions:
Should we try to eliminate everything in existence that may be a risk to a teenager?

When does sheltering that bright life flame of the fruit of our loins become a smothering that extinguishes its brightness? Is there such a thing as too much protection?

Do we really want to bring up a generation of children (or another generation) that does nothing more wildly exciting than go to the Mall every weekend?

Can we cell-phone track them into submission to our own parental fears?

Is it even good for them to so protect them? What will they do when true dangers strike in their adulthood if they have no small wild triumphs behind them?

How do you balance loving care against suffocating protection?

I get really irritated by the idea of light = good and dark = bad. I can understand the idea, certainly. The dark can be really scary, since we don’t know what’s there, we don’t know if we’re safe or not. We can’t see, or see indistinctly. Light and warmth are safe and friendly, especially when everything around is dark. But the quickest way to ruin your night vision is to look into a light, as well.

The world is not all clear and distinct. We need a place to rest, and that’s within ourselves, in the darkness. In a self-denying worldview, this is egotistical, certainly. Inside ourselves should be a place we reserve for God and not ourselves. But that’s a false distinction, because we are the Divine, and the Divine is us. When we deny ourselves, we are denying the very Divine we’re supposed to be making a place for. The dark flame is the Divine that we are to ourselves.

I cannot stress enough how important keeping a healthy self relationship is. This isn’t the self-esteem pep talk that we get so often in the schools. Instead, it’s a view of how we see ourselves is how we relate with others. We don’t need to pump ourselves up; we need to be honest and loving with ourselves. Yes, we need to be positive, because we bring about what we perceive. But the dark flame is the healthy love of ourselves (not narcissism) that lets us grow and become better than where we start off. It’s easy to limit ourselves to the light, but light is external. Light shines upon us from others. The inner darkness is where we grow.

Think about it. Seeds start in the dark. Babies grow in the dark. We sleep in the dark, and sleep is definitely something that benefits only ourselves (except, of course, that if you don’t sleep, you become useless to others as well. The connection is inevitable). When we deny ourselves the healing power of darkness and quiet, we aren’t being fair to anyone. The Divine whispers in the darkness as well as shining in the light.

Questions!
Am I in balance? Well, I try to be. Some times are better than others .. it’s a balancing act, not a state one achieves and never needs to find again. I think I tend to favor my dark flame over my bright .. I’m inherently a lazy person, and I like people to be kept at a certain distance from me so I can deal with them on my own terms. This keeps me focused fairly inward, although I try to use that focus to turn again outward with these blogs. But I still don’t have to see how it affects people, so I tend to doubt that it does any good and denigrate what the bright flame does. As I said .. it’s a process.

Is the darkness nurtured as well as the light? Again, I’m focused a little too much into the darkness. It’s safe in here. I should work harder to focus outward. I should also write about it, since I appear to have avoided the topic. And of course the imagry doesn’t bug me, it would be silly of me to use imagry that bugs me!

I tend to feel the Divine connection much more with the dark flame than the bright one, which is a problem. The Divine is both, as well as in other people’s Flames. But I like to focus inward and poke around in the corners of my head and avoid looking outward, so I deny the connection. Flames can burn as well as guide, and I’ve been burned a few too many times to reach out easily. And only in reaching out does the Divine fill up the bright flame.

From time to time, it becomes important to celebrate the fact that we live and the Divine that we are all part of. Also, parties are fun. I see this as a summer-type picnic, although any time of year would work.

Plan a get-together. This does not need to be only FlameKeepers, of course. It’s simply only a religious holiday for the FlameKeepers.

Before you begin, meditate on the Flame and seek the Divine within yourself. In this entire process, see the Divine in what you do, and be respectful as well as celebratory.

Plan the food, and if at all possible, be involved with the cooking. Be mindful of where the food has come from and the fact that as humans we are merely part of the food chain, not the top. If you can’t be involved (or simply can’t cook), still take over as many of the preparations as possible. In this preparing, be mindful of what you are doing this for: the celebration of life, of being co-creators with the Divine, of showing your love and affection for those in your life. This is not a time to be screaming about details. It’s a time to use those details to show how much you care.

The party itself should be about good times and celebration. Think of the food when you eat it, don’t just treat it as fuel. Alcohol is fine, but this is not a time to drink to excess, either. Use this time to connect closer with your loved ones. See the Divine in them, and be of the Divine with them.

And above all, enjoy and have fun.

This meditation is, I think, where I really figured out in my head what FlameKeeping was all about. Not that the stuff I wrote before it is garbage .. if it was, I’d've deleted it and pretended I’d never heard of it. But this is where I wrote down something that really helps someone else see where I’m coming from and lead another to the same place. As important as the rest of the structure is, this is where you reach inside yourself and start to live it.

“I participate in creation seen” and “I participate in creation unseen” are to me two of the most powerful phrases in the English language. I participate in creation. Not a passenger, not an unwilling person being tugged along by the winds of chance and fate .. a participant. This is a statement of power, of choice.

I participate in creation seen: This statement speaks of the work we do that is visible to others. This is when we paint, when we build, when we sing. (okay, singing is audible. close enough). Of course this doesn’t mean that we aren’t buffetted by the realities around us as well, but it does mean that we also push back into reality. I am participating. I am here, I am present, I am in the moment. I create.

I participate in creation unseen: This is of the work we do internally. I participate in making myself what I am, in how I view my experiences and my life. It’s easy to forget just how important the creation unseen is, but everything we are is built on it. I participate in building myself. I refuse to be simply the sum total of what happens to me, but instead build on what I have been to become what I wish to be.

These are not just words, not if you mean them when you say them. This is not just an empty ritual. This is a statement to the Divine that you participate with it in creation, in living, in life. This is declaring that you live life, not simply accept it.

“I bring light to the darkness.” “I bring darkness to the light.” Humans are creatures of extremism. We like to focus on one side in exclusion to the other, forgetting that truth and life tend to be in the middle .. or sometimes, a combination of both extremes. Light brings clarity, but also removes the ability of things to change what they are. Darkness brings a lowering of boundaries, which can lead both to change and confusion. Both are necessary. We need to learn what we can from both, then take what we learn into the realm of the other. “I bring light into the darkness” is not a statement of good over evil. It is a statement of clarity into confusion. “I bring darkness into the light” isn’t evil over good. It’s a statement of bringing the possiblity of change and growth into stagnation.

I bring light into the darkness. I bring darkness into the light.

I participate in creation seen. I participate in creation unseen.

do you?

I’m not sure where to begin. Or, for that matter, where to go from there.

Ecstasy is scary. It’s more scary in someone else, given that we’re talking about a person changing fairly rapidly and fairly completely. It’s our nature to try and force that to fit a mold and a system that lets us continue to compartmentalize the world and safely keep things within boundaries.

But systems have limits. The more we try to cram things into systems that just don’t go there, the more things leak out the sides. I feel like we live in a society right now that frowns on ecstasy, creativity, difference in all its forms. If you do it well, people will celebrate you and pay you considerable amounts of money, but the process between being a dabbler and getting to the point of money is hard, both because the process itself is hard (which is fine, because that’s what the market will bear) but also because creative people are mocked and told to get a “real” job. Even successful ones are viewed as playing (which they are, to a point), but as though such play is bad. Why do we crave entertainment, but degrade the work that goes into creating it?

Ecstasy cannot be bought or consumerized. It’s not capitalistic, not communistic, not any economic system. But when you experience ecstasy, you become more content, which makes it harder to sell things to you. So ecstasy is subtly discouraged, because it’s not profitable. Happiness is supposed to be found in a soft drink or new shoes or clothes, not inside yourself. And, of course, if you can’t find happiness in yourself, no amount of clothing is going to get it for you.

Have I embraced or denied ecstasy? I believe I embrace it. I try to encourage it. In that moment when I dance with the Universe, I exualt in it.

What responsibilities does ecstasy call for me to lay down? I find, more, that it calls me to take responsibilites up. When you see that you are part of a greater whole, it becomes more imperative to take interested and encourage the growth of the greater whole. It might be self-interest, but it’s still impossible to ignore others when you feel connected to them.

That said, I have found that I ignore more expectations when I feel more in touch with the Divine. Expectations that I haven’t agreed to and don’t really like, such as what a “proper” mother is, a “proper” wife or woman, that sort of thing. I really don’t care what’s proper, so I have laid down those expectations. But I think I have more responsibility, because I cannot separate myself from the whole and pretend it all just doesn’t matter.

The people around me .. ouch. I really don’t know. I know that I see myself sometimes as more “special” because I am doing this and my husband does a day job. (I try to beat up that little voice when it pops up. After all, I couldn’t do his job, either. If we were reliant upon me for income, we would be much worse off.) But it’s a voice that shows up sometimes. I hope I don’t stifle him. But it’s hardest to encourage those that I’m close to .. after all, if hubby was just as good as I am, what need would there be for me? When I am experiencing the Divine, I do not feel this way. But when I’m not, sometimes jealousy gets the better of me. It’s an ongoing process, and often a painful one.

And you know, that was a little more introspection than I’m really comfortable with. I’m going to need to think about that for a while.

This is another hard one for me, because I’m going to be trying to put deeply personal things into words. And I’m not sure I can very well.

I have experienced ecstasy. (and I do not mean the drug). I saw, in a moment, the entire Universe, and felt it look back. There was no “me,” even, simply a great throbbing dance of life. It was a long moment, but only a moment. I’ve spent years trying to get back to that feeling, off and on.

And here I am, creating a box of words for the concept. That’s what religion is, after all. It’s a way to try and tidy ecstasy up, to normalize it, to give everyone a similar set of experiences to go through and find the same point. And there’s a point to that, of course. Without a guide, we could never experience the same things. It’s the nature of humanity to want to share experience and a point of reference, both for good things and for bad. The problem is that religion is a very easy way to box that ecstasy out of non-religion activities. We try to keep transformation in places where it’s safe and comfortable, and ignore the fact that it just doesn’t work that way.

This is so incredibly hard to talk about, even to just the computer with no one here to judge if I sound like a lunatic. Ecstasy defies words, defies logic. It’s like putting on a pair of glasses for just a second, and seeing clearly. Then the glasses are gone, but the memory of how everything looked remained.

Do I allow room for ecstasy or box it up? I don’t know. I try to allow room for ecstasy, but at the same time, I’ve got an infant, I work on my writing, there’s housework ….. daily life gets in the way. It’s hard to have room for transcendance between dirty diapers. (and I’m not sure I’d want any revelation I might find in there)!

Can I accept transformation? I have in the past. I suspect I would manage in the future. I’m pragmatist enough to simply react to whatever’s in front of me. Some changes, of course, are easier than others. Do I want it? Well, right now, not so much. Or at least, not most of the things I can think of. A major religious revelation that pointed me into a drastically different direction would really piss me off. Something that gave depth to what I already do, on the other hand, would be welcomed.

As far as what ecstasy would change, that’s probably a dumb question. Unless you’re actively struggling against a change, it’s impossible to tell that in advance.

This is one of those topics that never seems to end with me. The problem is, I’m very GOOD at using people. I don’t usually do it on purpose, but when you see how people react and what they’re likely to do, it’s very easy to push the right button and get people to go the way I want them to.

It’s also very easy for me to hermit. It’s almost disturbingly easy for me to do so, actually. I often don’t like people much, so it’s desirable for me to limit my interactions with them to MY desires, MY standards. Play the way I want you to or go home. When I remember that other people are people to, I’m ashamed of my actions. Which, of course, makes me want to hermit more, so I don’t have to deal with the consequences. It’s cowardly, but it’s easier than dealing with people and admitting I screwed up. So it’s a constant battle with me.

At the same time, I fear using people, because I know I’m good at it. I’ve avoided reaching out and making certain contacts that would probably benefit me incredibly in the writing world because I see no way to make them that aren’t hypocritical. Even when the contact is available in part to BE exploited, I don’t like myself when I do so. So I avoid contacts that aren’t mutually beneficial. It might make life harder, but when I close my eyes at night and look over my day, I find myself a lot easier to live with.

Question time!
Who do I treat as a means? I try very hard to treat no one that way. It’s actually harder for me with family: I’m much more likely to treat my husband as the kitchen-cleaning man who should be cleaning my kitchen, damn it, than I am to mistreat a stranger. What do I hope to gain? Well .. a clean kitchen.

Do I let other people treat me as a means? That’s something I’m less good about. When I meet new people, I’m so desperate to fit in that if it half-works, I’m likely to let myself get trampled on for a time in an effort to not trample back. Then I either disappear or blow up. (I don’t do quiet for long. Often: five minutes. But sometimes a lot longer). It’s often easier to be treated as a means than cause a scene, and that’s something that’s hard to avoid doing.

What do I do about strangers? I tend to see them as scenery, yes. If I actually have to interact with them (shop clerks and the like) I try to be polite and see them as a person doing a job, not just a job. If they’re someone that just happens to be there, I give them their privacy and expect them to do the same to me. I’m very scared of strangers .. not that I think anything’s going to happen, but because I haven’t the foggiest idea what to say to them. I’m far too likely to put my foot in my mouth, and that fear makes me babble and increases the odds, so all in all, I prefer simply to not talk to them at all. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say I fear myself with strangers. Irritating people, even people I’ll never see again, bothers me.

I think it’s easy to see people as objects, especially people that you don’t actually have to deal with. And I’ve told off my share of telemarketers. (seriously, dudes, STOP CALLING ME!) But when we remember that people, even annoying people, are real, and have their own feelings and needs, I think we become better people ourselves.

Transgression is inherently attached to punishment and retribution. When someone crosses us, we want to make certain it doesn’t happen again, and we want to punish the person that did it. But what is appropriate? What is too much? And what is the purpose of the action?

It is natural to want to punish the person for what they’ve done. When we’re hurt, we want to strike back, even if the hurt was unintentional. There is a desire to make someone “pay” for what they have done. There is also the desire to make certain something doesn’t happen again. Even if the original offense was unintentional, if there are no consequences, there’s no reason to not do it again, intentionally or otherwise.

Punishment and retribution are dangerous issues. It’s not feasible, nor sensible, to get rid of them completely. If there was no punishment, then people would be free to do whatever they wanted to each other. It is the knowledge of retribution that keeps the worst of us from behaving badly. It is the pushing back by another that lets us know where the boundaries are.

But what is ethical here? Punishment for the sake of giving pain certainly isn’t. Any punishment that exists solely for the emotional glee of the giver is wrong. While we have every right to make certain, individually and societally, that behavior that’s injurious to us doesn’t happen again, giving injury to another simply for the sake of revenge isn’t moral either.

It’s easy to say that we should punish in proportion to our hurt. And it’s reasonable. But that doesn’t answer the important question: Does it solve the problem? If it doesn’t solve the problem, then it’s a bad system. And it’s easy to say that we shouldn’t punish, that punishment is somehow “wrong”. But that doesn’t solve the problem either. When you refuse to intervene, you simply allow others to behave as they will against you.

At heart, punishment and retribution is a societal issue, not an individual one in most cases. Vigilante justice is frowned upon at this time. But society is built up of individuals and run by those that speak up. And as parents, as groups, we punish those that transgress in ways that don’t go up to the level of civil or criminal justice. When we do so, we need to think about what we’re doing, but we also need to think about why we’re doing it.

It’s easy to simply want to punish. It’s a lot harder to think about what the effects are, and to try and be effective, and make certain that you’re giving the message you want. There are no easy answers when it comes to this subject; or at least, there are no easy, right answers. The easy ones are wrong.

Questions:
Why do we punish people? What do we hope to accomplish?
Think back to a time someone took retribution against you. What was your reaction? Was it the one they wanted?
If you were in charge, what would your method of punishing criminals be? Why? What would happen next?

I wrote this after being irritated at someone saying people shouldn’t judge, or perhaps calling me judgemental, or that Pagans are “better” than judging. It’s something that crops up regularly, and it never fails to piss me off.

We all agree that we shouldn’t trust our wallet with just anyone, for example. I don’t know anyone that would trust a random stranger with their housekeys. So, we judge. And that’s a good thing.

What do I judge on? I try to judge based on what people say and how they act, and not ephemerals like dress or weight or attractiveness. (that said, my hubby’s darn cute, and I have the most adorable baby ever. so there). There are some things I judge on that I’m trying to work on. People that talk about God a lot bother me due to early upbringing, for example. Which is a little embarrassing given what I’m doing here.

Questions:
Why do we judge? Because otherwise we have absolutely no useful way to make decisions. If I can’t judge based on actions, I might as well use a dartboard to pick political candidates, friends, a spouse .. not a good plan. When shouldn’t we judge? When we don’t have the information we need and a decision isn’t necessary yet. Like, deciding to judge all people of group X. Unless it is a self-chosen group (I freely choose to judge all people in a group of “We Hate People” to not be people I want to associate with!), I shouldn’t be quick to judge on association. It’s information I can use, but it’s not the whole story.

What do I think is appropriate to judge on? I think I answered this already .. what people say and do. If you’re a jerk, I get to judge you as such.

How do I want to be judged? On my actions and my words, not on things like the fact that I’m a woman, or that I’m short, or things like that. I have no problem being judged on my writing: or at least, I have no problem having my ideas judged where I write about them. I don’t want my character judged solely on my fiction.

And I really hate being judged based solely on the fact that I’m female. It happens with some regularity. I will be looked at and dismissed because of my reproductive organs, or because I’m a mother, as though being a mom and a woman completely destroys any brain cells I might have had. I suspect this is a common problem among minorities, and it’s offensive. No one has an exclusive lock on intelligence, good ideas, or anything else. So while I don’t want to associate with people that look at me and think that way anyway, I still find it offensive that people are so blind as to assume that a woman is somehow lesser. (or even worse, that as a woman I’d be willing to sleep with them just because they’re a man. I do NOT think so).

If I can judge, then I can choose who I do and don’t want to be associated with. If I can’t judge, then I can’t choose to get away from creeps that want me for nothing more than my body. What would you choose? (if you choose the body, you’ve never been chased by a creep). So, yes, I judge. And I’m proud of it.

He stood there, proud and tall,
Waiting at the crossroads.
Held out his hand to me, and said
“Will you join me in the dance?”

I backed away, afraid of him
Of the dance and all he offered
“Can you promise I’ll be safe?” I asked
“That I’ll know myself tomorrow?”

“I can promise no such thing,
For that’s not the dance I offer.
I am pounding pulse and flashing feet
Not the softness of a lover.

“You stand here in the darkness
Waiting for what will come
But you do not reach for what you need
You will not let go and dance.”

“It’s dark and cold and scary
I don’t know how to trust
You want me to dance with you
But I fear what I may become.”

He stood and was a man
But I saw what was beneath
A flame that danced but did not give light
A darkness like no other.

“You will become what you are
What you have burning inside.
You will burn brightly in the darkness
You will burn darkly in the light.

“Take my hand and dance with me
And you will not be left unchanged.”
He spoke my fear so plainly
Yet still, hand out, he stood.

What choice did I have? The fire in me burned
I wanted to dance, to sing, to be changed
Where I was was in the light
But it wasn’t where I needed to be.

I took his hand.

I am the fire, burning bright.
I am fire burning dark.

In the darkness, boundaries fall
I danced and was the Flame

Believe it or not, I do not fear death. I fear dying at times, and I fear dying with so much undone. I have taken on a task that I know will never be complete in my lifetime, and that is writing this religion down. And of course I fear the death of my loved ones, because life would be so much less rich without them. But my own death does not scare me. It will come when it comes, and in the meantime, I have too much work to do to worry over something I cannot change.

This doesn’t mean I’m careless, of course. I don’t want to get hit by a car or die of skin cancer or any of the other things carelessness can cause. And I don’t want my loved ones to miss me, either. But I can’t live worried about an afterlife when there’s so much to do in this life. Whatever afterlife there is (and I really only expect to loose my ego, my self-ness, and become again a part of the Divine), it will be there when I get there.

Questions:
What do I do in fear of death? Well, I don’t play in traffic. But really, other than normal safety things, I don’t live my life in fear of death. I’m much more afraid of sickness, of having more pain. And I feel like I’m weak when I say that, because people can and do survive and thrive with much worse health, but I still fear being sicker. So for things like my diet, even if in the long term it sets me up for a heart attack, I will eat this way anyway because it makes life so much more tolerable in day to day life.

What blessing has mortality brought to my life? I think that being able to accept that I won’t ever be able to get everything in my life done still leaves me with more motivation to get as much done as I can. There will come a time when there is nothing left but my words; so I need to make certain the words I leave are the right ones.

How can we live without certainty? I don’t think I could live with certainty. Or at least, I would not be me if I knew the time of my death. It would be hard to take threats seriously if I knew they couldn’t kill me. And if the time was soon, I might give up and get nothing done instead of getting done as much as I could in life. As life is, the lack of knowledge pushes me to get as much done as I can while still planning for tomorrow.

There is no life, no push, without the eventuality of death to give us impetus. And there is no new life without death to mke room. I can accept that I will die one day for the joy that my baby brings me. If it’s all or nothing, I will take both and count myself lucky in the bargain.

I don’t believe that we create our own reality. If we did, I would be a lot healthier (and just a touch thinner .. I’ve got my vanity too!). What we create is possibilities.

I think this is an important point (that we create possibilities, not reality) because when we believe we create reality, we ignore the realities of the people around us and the world we live in. “I create my own reality” can lead to horrible narcissism. It leads to the belief that people are poor through some kind of insane “choice” and that riches come through positive thinking instead of work. What we have are possibilities. I can choose to work for health, to work for wealth, to work for people around me. And I can’t choose everything, either: there are only so many hours in a day, and I have to make tradeoffs. Right now, most of my choices are fairly small-scale – my son and husband, my writing, my religious work. I know I should do more out of the house, but I just don’t have the time and the energy to add more to my workload.

Questions!
How do I create my future? Well, I got married and had a baby .. that defines the next twenty years or so pretty clearly for at least a good chunk of my life. Whatever else I do, I will also be a mother. That’s a clear choice. I also work on my writing .. if I want to be a published author, the only way to get there is my butt in the chair and my hands on the keyboard. If I don’t do the work, I’ll never get the reward.

What cycles am I in? Well, the great cycle of life .. I have become a parent and perpetuated myself upon the world. That’s the biggest cycle. And then there are the daily ones of things like housework .. I eat, I dirty dishes, I clean them, I cook in them, I eat. I have a monthly writing group I meet with. I chat with my friends most weekdays. My husband works during the week, which also affects my time and cycles. Most of these cycles, I’ve chosen. I certainly chose wife, mother and author, and everything else seems to come from them.

How am I an individual? Well, I’m the only me there is. (thank goodness!) I’m also part of a greater whole .. I may be the only mother of MY son, but there are many mothers and many sons out there. I am the only person writing THIS book, but many people write books. It is when I forget that there are other mothers (or that my husband is also a parent, and that father is as meaningful as mother) that things get confused. I am equal with other people. The difference is in how I choose to interact with others, not that they exist.

It’s a problem we face, both as individuals and as a community. What do we do when someone transgresses against us? When they refuse to do what’s expected of them? And as well, what do we do when we have transgressed against another? No matter how much we try, it’s inevitable that sometimes we’re going to push up against another person’s boundaries. Sometimes the only way to know that there is a boundary is to cross it, even.

So what do we do with people that cross our boundaries? Culturally, many people feel obliged to take the transgression and allow it to happen. If you push back, somehow you become the bad person, and the person transgresses again by making you guilty. So we feel guilt about our own boundaries.

Transgression is when one person uses their Flame to stifle another. When it happens often enough, we begin to lose our Flame as it becomes stifled under the weight of crossed boundaries and a loss of self. It seems like a minor thing when it happens, often, because it happens first over minor things. The issue is not the actual boundary transgressed, usually: it doesn’t really matter that someone didn’t do the dishes one day. What matters is the assumption of power the transgression states, and that is saying that my Flame means more than yours does. It is that statement and assumption that destroys people’s Flames.

This is not where I talk about whether or not the boundaries are correct. That’s a different question. But when they are transgressed, as they will be, the absolute wrong thing to do is to simply take it as the person’s right to cross. We have a right and a responsiblity to bring these transgressions to the public eye and to resolve the issue, not to simply take it.

Culturally, women are especially encouraged to simply take transgression. When someone crosses a woman and that woman complains, she is a bitch, or crazy, or suffering from PMS. There is no way to actively, appropriately complain about the transgression. Instead, we’re supposed to simply accept that people are going to cross us, and we are supposed to simply take it.

I suggest a new way of reacting to transgression. Speak up. Male or female, regardless of the relationship, speak up the first time. This needs to be a peaceful statement of fact, not a tirade, not an explosion. This is not a case of striking first: that is not appropriate either. But we need to speak up the first time we get transgressed against. We need to learn that people’s boundaries are to be respected, not trampled. If the boundary itself is inappropriate, that can be established once the transgression is in the public eye. But every time we simply sit back and take a transgression, we say that it’s acceptable to do it again. And our Flames diminish and gutter under the pain, until they flare out to fight back and we transgress in turn in retaliation.

Questions:
How do you handle transgression? Does it work?
Do you feel oppressed by transgression in your life? Why or why not?
How do you react to other people’s reactions to transgression? Are there things you see that you should emulate? Things you see that you do yourself but hate in others?