“Realize that bodies are only a fraction of who we are They’re just oddly-shaped vessels for hearts And honestly, they can barely contain us…” – Gabe Moses (From How to Make Love to a Trans Person)
I love human bodies: large, small, male, female, neither, both. And yet, as Gabe Moses writes in the gorgeous poem I recommend you read the whole of, they are only a portion of what makes up our whole: we are also mind, emotion, spirit, love, sex, gender, animal, anger, flexibility, and hope.
I am awake when I ought to be sleeping, because I feel troubled by this rift, that – even in trying to find ways to speak about it – seems to only grow larger. Hopefully, our understanding will also grow large someday.
We are complex beings, just as the cosmos is complex. I am awake because in writing the article Duality and Diversity, in trying to speak of my own experiences of gender – the strangeness of which began for me in my childhood – and of some of what went on this last Pantheacon, I stepped on some landmines, and perhaps hurt or angered some of my brothers and sisters. Tricky stuff, gender. Tricky stuff, diversity. Tricky stuff, privilege.
Yes, I write as a person with cissexual privilege. This colors my view of the world. When I stand up with my trans allies, I try to learn a little more each time. There are always things for me to learn.
Yes, I write as a person with cissexual privilege. This causes me to misstep sometimes with those who do not share in that privilege. I make mistakes. I fumble. I keep trying.
Yes, I write as a person with cissexual privilege. My gender, however, is fluid. That lack of a binary gender, I will not let another take away from me. While some people may hold ends of the broad spectrum of male or female, masculine or feminine, I am somewhere in the vast between. My gender is mutable, lovely, and strange.
As I spoke on a panel at the Florida Pagan Gathering, of which the people of this blog transcribed this portion:
In The Book of the Law, Nuit says, ‘I was divided for love’s sake for a chance of union.’ In that way polarity is really important; it’s an important teacher to us. I talk about this a lot in my second book, Kissing the Limitless, this thought that God Herself, Star Goddess, is the fabric of all; and in a way she is pre-gender. And then there are the Divine Twins, that division. And really that can be any polarity: hot-cold, day-night, male-female, active-receptive. My hope is we shift more toward working a whole range of polarities, knowing that really we’re all really a part of the fabric of everything, and that the beauty of our work as magic-workers, as witches, as shamans, is to bring the poles back together into a new form, creating a new being and a new culture with each other. That’s my hope.
That is my reality. It may not reflect the reality of some of you reading. And I am still left with this question:
How do we humans balance inclusion and diversity without turning into a homogeneous melting pot or actively practicing discrimination? If I believe that the cosmosphere needs diversity, how do we foster a healthy diversity, rather than a divergence that tears us apart?
My way is to attempt welcome as many people as feel called, to practice with me and to share their work. My way is to listen to as many different stories as I am able. My way is to keep practicing.
My apologies to those whom my article caused hurt or gave offense. I will keep attempting to learn to be a better ally in our struggle for equality and freedom.
We stand in a time of great change. May we learn to navigate these changes with greater and greater strength, compassion, and flexibility.
I hope our communities keep thinking and talking. May we open for love’s sake, for a chance of union.
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