branches up, roots down

Yesterday morning, as my spouse (and using that word is a spell) was sobbing, she kept repeating "why do they hate us so much?". I told her...amidst my own tears.... that it wasn't so much hate as fear. Fear of difference, fear of change, fear of sexuality, and fear of all of us being fully in our power. Love is the antidote and it will prevail. Harvey Milk was right when he said we must "come out, come out, wherever you are". I've been a therapist for many years and have worked with countless folks in the coming out process.The coming out process is essentially iron pentacle work . It involves reclaiming sex, pride, self, power and passion. The process of becoming self actualized means all of us, straight or gay, come out in one way or another. All of us go through a process of claiming our authentic selves, a process that never truly ends. Those of us who are queer, well, we have a bit of a rougher road to hoe in coming out. For many, coming out means...

One great thing about great loves is that just when you think you couldn’t be more in love, you find yourself turning it up another notch. Today, my love affair with this city called San Francisco went up to eleven . Standing in the morning light in the rotunda of City Hall, with the bust of Harvey Milk beaming at me, I, for the second time this lifetime, performed a wedding ceremony for my friends Morgaine and Lann. It was nineteen years ago today that I handfasted them on the beach at Point Reyes in Northern California. Afterwards, the wedding party went back to their Lagunitas home to feast and celebrate into the night. I still can remember the mountain of summer strawberries. Today, there was no feast or party afterward, except for the cupcakes that were given to each couple when they received a marriage license and the cheer that went up when they flashed it to the crowd that was waiting outside of City Hall. My friends were legalizing something that had come to fr...

A week ago I received a phone call from a friend of a client. She had found my card in his wallet and she remembered him talking about his “shrink”. She called to let me know he had died of a sudden heart attack. I had seen J. once a week like clockwork for well over seven years. He turned fifty a few months back, and we had spent some time reviewing all the events of his forties that had been so difficult, both of us imagining that the fifties would be better. He had worked hard in therapy, and for the last two years he’d been sober. J. was a big man who tried to move thru the world taking up as little space as possible. He was quiet, shy, and uncomfortable being the focus of attention. The very fact that he could tolerate therapy at all was a miracle. Early on, I learned to draw out and encourage his dark sense of humor. He could come across as dour, but laughing, he became a different being. J. had come from the kind of twisted Christian home where almost anything en...

Oh, my. I’m still recovering from my visit to New Orleans with my girlfriend, my son and his best friend. I went to priestess my sister’s wedding. It was one of those long weekends which seem to stretch for weeks. We left late on a Thursday, coming back on Monday. How could so much have happened? My girlfriend was able to blog about it right away, but I’m still processing it. There’s so much to say, and no words seem really right to express it. I loved New Orleans the first time I laid eyes upon her. It was on that trip that I understood how the elements are embodied in our great cities. The four directions and their elemental correspondences play out in our nation’s landscape and our cities serve as great Guardians of the Directions. New York in the east has the power of intellect, with Air holding reign there. Chicago , that mighty meatpacking city in the north, holds the power of Earth. On the west coast, Water rules the city of dreamers that is San Francisco . And in ...

“ I found out yesterday that Jerry Falwell had died and I felt this sense of ebullience. I hate to admit it, but I felt excited. I know it’s not very spiritual, but it kind of made my day.” This is what another therapist, a close friend and colleague of mine, said to me today. He is by no means alone in his sentiments, many are feeling the same way, myself included. Jerry Falwell has been the voice of hate and vitriol for the religious right for many years . I am the epitome of everything he despised. I am queer, feminist, left wing, and a witch. My colleague is a tranny , a gentle gender outlaw that Reverend Falwell would have abhorred. To him, we were both to blame for what happened on September 11 th , 2001. He would be happy, excited, and somewhat ebullient to hear of people like ourselves dying, preferably in ways where we suffered greatly. He certainly believed if we didn ’t suffer in this life, we’d be damned unhappy in the next. It makes sense that so many of us a...

In response to my last blog, the fabulous Aquila questioned if Mary Oliver is “One of Us”. That question in itself opens up all kinds of other questions, ones I’ve been ruminating on, and thankfully, last night those questions were settled. This came due to my great fortune of having tickets to see Mary Oliver in person. She read her poetry for fifty minutes – a time period as a therapist I found amusing – and then she answered questions. Although I wasn’t one of those who raised my hand, she gave me the answers I needed. In essence, all of us are just that - One, and yet, in our infinite variations, Mary Oliver speaks for those of us who worship this green earth above and below anything else. Years back I was interviewed for the book “ Modern Pagans ” and asked to give a list of books that I found core to living as a pagan and a witch. It was a short list, and it included most predominately the poetry of Mary Oliver. Her poems resonate with love for the natural worl...