Descending into the Labyrinth

This post is taken from my journal entry, written on Nov. 2, 2011. As opposed to the image of the angry feminist stereotype, here it is pretty apparent that I was feeling lonely and fearful, but determined. I think that being able to share my thoughts and have a community that welcomes their expression is already so helpful for me. Thanks for reading. 

Something is beginning. Something of great significance. For some time now my passion and intellect have focused on the perspectives and life experiences of Feminist women. Their strength, courage, and pain is fascinating to me. It rattles cages inside me and enlivens me. It surfaces pain and deep desire for bravery and civil disobedience to awaken inside me, and heal me. I am on a Feminist journey. I am willing to encounter and conquer the probable incidents of loneliness, confusion, betrayal, and opposition that will occur. I am afraid. But I know I must go on, and go confidently. I have myself to become.

I am currently reading the experiences of Sue Munk Kidd in her book, The Dance of the Dissident Daughter. She describes a few metaphors for her awakening to the Divine Feminine. The comparison that best appeals to me and my journey is the myth of Ariadne. She was the daughter of King Minos, the king of Crete. King Minos was pretty tyrannical and evil. He had a labyrinth beneath his palace that housed a monster (half-man, half-bull) called the Minotaur. Ariadne was placed in charge of this labyrinth. Every 9 years, the king demanded that seven young men and seven young women of Athens be sent down into the labyrinth to feed to the Minotaur (as punishment for the death of his son). The hero, Theseus, decides to end this injustice, and kill the Minotaur. Ariadne, very much in love, desires to help him.

Ariadne gives Theseus thread to weave through the labyrinth in order for him to easily find his way out after slaying the monster. In exchange, Ariadne wants to go with Theseus, and leave behind her father's kingdom and her current life. After their goal is accomplished they do sail away together, and then Theseus abandons Ariadne on the island Naxos.

Kidd compares King Minos to the institution of patriarchy. The Minotaur, believed anciently to be the spirit of King Minos himself, is described this way:

"In the female psyche the Minotaur represents negative, uncivilized (beastly), masculine power - that part of the old king driven underground. In other words, the Minotaur is the bullish, bullying, bulldozing force of patriarchy internalized in the cellar of a women's psyche. It is a presence that works invisibly, hampering, limiting, driving, even destroying a women's inner and outer life."

Theseus represents the external source a woman uses to escape patriarchy, and destroy the harm it has caused her internally. Ironically, many times, Kidd asserts, this role in a women's life goes to a man. Perhaps many women don't realize that they are expecting or hoping for others to face the Minotaur for them. I can see that in myself. I want the courage to go in myself, face the monsters inside that have crippled me, and come back out a new woman.

Sue Monk Kidd relates that an ancient Feminist ritual for women was to carry thread through a labyrinth, and then once they reached the center, they would used the thread to guide their way out. In this ritual, the labyrinth represented a woman's womb, and the thread represented life-giving sustenance (like an umbilical cord). The center of the labyrinth represented death, and coming out again represented rebirth.

For me, I can anticipate that my journey will feel like going through a deep labyrinth. It will be confusing, it will turn me in different directions, and its mystery will lure me on. I will carry my life-giving thread with me (my agency, will, and morality). I will destroy the parts of myself that seek to deceive and eat me alive. I will die, and I will be reborn.

Sara's Feminist Awakening (to the Goblin King): "You have no power over me!" Yeah, and all the crazy clocks break.

I'm not certain how long or how dramatic this journey will be, but I'm up for it. I've already begun. Something is certainly beginning. Last night I couldn't sleep, so I decided to listen to a song I knew would give me comfort and courage. This song is called Ariadne. I especially like the part of the chorus urging Ariadne to look to herself to find the strength she needs:

No time to cry so wake up, Ariadne                                                                                        It doesn't have to be this way                                                                                              You define what you believe                                                                                              Take hold of your destiny                                                                                   Remember...what's inside

What songs, poems, stories, or movies inspire you to be a more confident and independent person?