Over the last month, when I have picked a morning oracle card, it has more likely than not been "Soul Retrieval", with a picture of a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. No matter how often I shuffle the cards, no matter where the card must end up during that process, I seem to find it. I think the term was originally specific to a shamanic ritual to help people retrieve lost parts of themselves; it seems to have gained a bit more general usage in therapy and self help -- and, of course, various card decks.
I don't think I mentioned something I did around April 1. In my actual handwritten journal, I compiled a list of the ten qualities that make me, "me". In the end, my list extended to thirteen. For the moment, I won't enumerate them (my instinct to have a little privacy still kicks in!) but anyone who has read this blog for any period of time could probably write the list themselves.
Within minutes, I looked at the list from the standpoint of one question: Over the years, which of these gifts and qualities were actually encouraged by other people or by the institutions of the world? And of course, the horror being, the answer to that was, none of them. Not "a few", none. After the obligatory early "good grades in school", I received next to no enthusiastic encouragement, much less tangible support, towards a logical goal of using all my gifts to their utmost. Worse still, I often proactively hid my own best qualities in order to avoid criticism or derision, or made fun of myself to others. I felt ashamed of myself, inadequate, worthless, whether or not exterior feedback (or a low "paycheck") was making me feel that way.
A friend recently asked me, have I been angry or resentful about this? I now understand that, yes, I have been, although rarely at any one person or institution. I think it has been more of a dull sense of incredulity, that all the energy in "the room"/"the world" seems to flow to the humans who may be the most soulless. Frustration, that, as a woman, I have been measured by a yardstick that means nothing to me. And I also confess to having been jealous of younger women and men who achieve success with the help of friends and family. It isn't so much their achievement or virtuosity (I seem to feel this most acutely when people make a name in the music field) but the fact that they were actively supported in their efforts. Somebody wanted them to self-actualize, and it makes me cry. I can barely imagine what that kind of welcome feels like. I regret that I have carried around this kind of negativity for a lifetime, and perhaps communicated it here in this blog or elsewhere. Passive-aggressive anger and frustration may not kill like a weapon, but it can send out twisted or hurtful tendrils. Oh dear, it is painful to "own" this kind of anger. But I also know I need to avoid excessive shame and guilt in a life already overburdened in that area. Much of this was all but inevitable, given what my family was like, how the world has been from 1956 to the present, and a paradigm that was all but set in stone.
Sunday morning, I awoke very early to do my own little ritual. I lit a candle, poured about half an inch of sherry into a small glass, and prepared a small plate with a few crackers. Basically, I went down the list and, one by one, thanked the Goddess for the gifts. For the first time in my life, I was able to do this with genuine gratitude, untinged with irony or sarcasm. Even those qualities that seem paradoxical (loving Goddess values and English church music, for instance), I finally just released into. The Great Mother is well able to navigate these complexities, so it's time I do so too. I sipped my wine and nibbled on my crackers, and then, at the end of the list, I put my hand down on my journal and felt for any remaining negativity. I didn't feel any. I think that I have finally "retrieved my soul". This isn't to say that there won't still be outer or inner pushback. If others want to stomp on me, fine. If I have moments of wanting to hide from my truest self, fine. But in the end, I am exactly who the Goddess made me to be, and perhaps even more. I am finally happy to be me, and even happy with (or at least far less "bittersweet" about) the journey that brought me to this place of acceptance of myself. Deep down, I know that I have never been in a more powerful place.
