ALLOWING OURSELVES TO UNFOLD

Everyone carries their own true self in their own way, in their own words, and in their own time. And that is also beautifully queer. My true self is the queer way I rest my ear to the chest of a tree, listening for its heartbeat. My true self is the part of me that shows up at the Indiana statehouse when anti-trans bills are brought to the table, knowing the privilege of my own position as a cis queer white woman and the roles I am called to in communal care. My true self is the part of me that keeps asking questions, stays curious about my own blossoming, and holds myself—and the world—with open hands. The consistencies of who we are also belong to our true selves. Those parts of us that are ever-clear, remaining steady and holding fast, are also necessary parts of the ground of our being. They undergird our existence. As we unclench our fists, shedding internalized norms and expectations, we step toward everything alive, toward everything wild, toward the truth of who we are.

Read more of my excerpt featured by the Center for Action and Contemplation on allowing ourselves to unfold from June 10, 2024

Read more of my excerpt featured by the Center for Action and Contemplation on the freedom found in ritual from July 4, 2024

Allowing Ourselves to Unfold  

An Unexpected Sense of Freedom 

RELEASING CONTROL

The crux of my own spirituality has been this releasing of control and stepping into discomfort. All this to say, I think the way towards relinquishing control and removing the barriers preventing love, begins in our own hearts and bodies. In order to really allow ourselves and each other to flourish, to bloom, to grow and expand, we have to open our own clenched fists unto the possibilities beyond our limited views and understandings of the world.

When I engage in my contemplative practices I remove my agenda, I soften every muscle in my body––often to the point of tears. Contemplative practice is where my roots of compassion deepen. It is where I meet my true self, in all of its ugliness and beauty. We could say that I queer my own contemplative practice by simply being a queer woman, lucky enough to be comfortable in my own skin. But I’d also add that I queer my contemplative practices by embracing the strangeness, oddity, and even weirdness they bring into my life.

Read more of my interview with Foreword Reviews