Well, I
won’t lie. This has been a hard week or
so. I have thankfully started to sleep a
bit better, if only because I am trying to imagine that this Brexit earthquake might
eventually be the catalyst for healing new
directions, despite appearances to the contrary. And after enough days of no sleep, I think
your body just takes over and says, “Sleep, dear one.” Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of my
brother’s death, and I continue to feel rather shaky. I may talk about that
later in the week. I seriously haven’t gotten over it.
But I want
to return to the archetype topic. Almost
two weeks ago, I wrote about how looking at medieval social roles has helped me
to understand my own core way of operating in the world. I suggested that once we know our passions,
archetypes (from literature, fairy tales and history) might help us to understand
our ideal way of powerfully “doing” them in the world today.
For years,
I’ve called myself a wandering mystic. There’s
no question that I’ve been almost like a Chaucerian pilgrim, poor, at times with
the 21st-century version of only the sandals on my feet and the
clothes on my back, walking a spiritual walkabout trying to make sense of life.
My journey took me in decidedly
futuristic spiritual directions, and yet paradoxically it would eventually
uncover my strongest and earliest passions, English church music, and English
history, spirituality, landscape, art and architecture.
And yet
recently I have come to think that my true core archetype isn’t wanderer or pilgrim
at all, I think it is “queen.”
OK, I’ve
said it. Now, queens are hot in modern culture in all sorts of manifestations. You
see the word on tee shirts and bumper stickers every day. So it seems odd to be
so reticent about claiming the archetype’s energy. But I’ve been pushing it away all my life. Some of my forebears were “aristocratic,” but
as a child in 1960’s Schenectady, that hardly seemed relevant. By my early teens, my family was chronically
broke, so although many of my expectations and some of my experiences
reflected privilege, I would walk into the adult world with what is now
considered an epic “poverty mentality.” I was confused by the inconsistent highs and
lows of my background. More than that, I
was confused and ashamed of the fact that I identified with the “upper crust”
in any situation. (Yes, on those quizzes, I am Downton Abbey’s Dowager Countess
of Grantham, not Mrs. Patmore.) As a
result, around the same time I deep-sixed all my interests in England and English
church music, I also rejected anything that might have been positive or
productive about such a heritage. I tried to convince myself that it was some
kind of past life glitch. If I waitressed and mopped floors and did data entry
and ran cash registers long enough, perhaps I could be a normal person.
If this
blog is going to get me home in any sense of the word, I have to have the courage
to tell the truth. And it isn’t about
castles and tiaras and having courtiers anyway. It’s about leadership. More than anything, the secret I have hidden
from myself and from the world is that I am a born leader. Perhaps more “mystic queen” than “warrior,”
but still … If I haven’t “led” up till now, it’s because I don’t think you can
be an effective leader until you embrace your passions. You have to understand the arena where you are
meant to lead, which, of course, I did not. I could never have “led” as a college
president or CEO of a PR firm or a politician, because I would never have been
passionate about those goals. To work even in middle management of an
institution, you have to believe in that institution – and the larger current “paradigm.”
Overall, I don’t. So there was more integrity for me working much of the time
at the bottom of the ladder and staying invisible.
Yet, here’s
another hard truth. I’m not
invisible. Because I am a leader who
didn’t understand her potential for leadership, I stuck out like a sore thumb and
made a dreadful employee. (I’m going to say this even at the risk of never
getting a “job” again.) I take charge
almost as soon as I walk in the door. I tell employers what to do. I learn tasks too quickly. I fix mistakes (like misspellings) and work
faster and harder for my $10 an hour than anyone else, just out of boredom. I speak authoritatively. I don’t play the game
well. I can see potential future outcomes
and I am a nitpicker about ethics. I’m too smart. And, in the end, I want to be in charge -- only of something that is meaningful to me. The only “jobs” I’ve derived even the
slightest bit of satisfaction from were characterized by some level of power
autonomy: teaching (being “queen” of my
classroom), running a small summer art gallery and being able to make
day-to-day executive decisions, even being left to run small retail or
restaurant establishments on my own, just for a few hours at a stretch. I’m at my best when I can stand up tall,
greet people gracefully, make their learning or buying or eating experience as
positive as possible, and when I can make all
the executive decisions about the environment around me. I love writing this blog because it truly is
my world. I am queen here.
Other than
the fact that I am shaking from the terror of revealing these secrets about
myself, I guess I’m relieved to be doing it. I haven’t been functional as an
employee, I haven’t dared to be a leader, and I haven’t resonated with our
current paradigm enough to lead within it. I don't seem to have an interest in money, so being an entrepreneur was out. What an appalling limbo! I’ve
been pilgrim, teacher, contemplative nun, writer, artist and musician, and I am
excellent at all of them, but in the end, I now suspect that they are only supporting
skills. I have been skirting around the
most important archetype. If I am to
move forward, I need to accept my leadership mantle (which I started to talk about back in February) in some way that embraces cutting
edge thinking and spirituality as well as the ancient landscape context that
nourishes me. I cannot yet see how that is to work, other than to keep writing
this blog and living my life step-by-step. But I guess the most important thing will happen the minute I hit the
“publish” button at the top of this site. When I say to Spirit, “I am willing to lead. Just show me how” – then
put these words out in the world – there may be no going back.
I cannot
help but wonder, how many more 60-something women have unexpressed leadership
in their “wheelhouses”? How many of us have been in a similar limbo?
