Sacred Spaces

Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again. -- Joseph Campbell

Life is busy and LOUD and hectic.  It's very easy to be lost in the chaos and forget the importance of finding silence.  We all need refuges.  They allow us to recenter ourselves, remember who we are, whats important, and give us the energy to truly live each moment.

I strive to make our home one of these safe havens, not only for me, but for everyone who finds themselves under our roof.  I like to think I do a pretty good job.  However, I've tried to take things a step further and not only make my home a safe space, but also one of sacred spaces.

A while back I created a personal altar in my living room to serve as such a space.  It's on the wall right next to my rocking chair where I can almost always be found sitting if I''m in the living room.
It is my sacred space where I can breath and find me again.  I've done a lot of healing in the space as I experienced one miscarriage after another.  Occasionally I remove and add items.  The altar experience change as I change.
Much more recently I set out to make mine and Brenan's bedroom a sacred space.  After all, it's where I hope to conceive, and even birth our next child.  I'm no interior designer and I think it still needs a few finishing touches, but I'm pleased with how it turned out.

The view as you walk in

I find myself drawn to my bedroom far more than I ever was before.  It is a room where my soul and body can come to rest. A room worthy of bringing new life in to this world.

After such a process, I have a few tips for anyone wanting to create their own sacred spaces whether it be an altar or an entire room.

1) Decide what you need from a sacred space.  Does it need to be a place for meditation, yoga, or a visual affirmation?  Is there a particular theme you'd like your space to have?  Example: my living room altar was created to help me heal and move on (as much as anyone can) from my miscarriages.  It had a place for incense, painting I had done while meditating on my grief, and other mementos that hold great symbolism for me.  I choose to place it in an area I could see often through out my day and next to my favorite seat in the house.

2) Use what you have.   The base can be anything, a shelf, dresser, side table, or an entire room.  There's no need to run out and spend money buying new things for your space. More often than not, we already have important symbolic items scattered around our house, tucked away in drawers and boxes.  This is an opportunity to bring them out to be a constant source of positive energy.  Other times altar pieces can be items you created your self, this allows them to have more personal meaning.  About half of everything on my personal altar was created by me, the other half were items I already had, or that have come to me through healing circles, as gifts, or I've found in nature.  However, there are a few things that I've bought because when I picked them up my spirit refused to be separated, or because I specifically went out looking for such an item for it's symbolism.  My point is, no matter your financial situation, you CAN create a sacred space.

3) Simple is almost always better.  Our lives are already so crazy, it's nice to take the craziness out of our sacred space by airing on the side of minimalism.

4) Your sacred space should be a reflection of YOU and any one else the space is meant for.  Don't add something to it simply because it's pretty, add something because it serves a specific purpose for your grounding, healing, etc, whatever it is you need to have happen in your space. Example:  As you may have noticed I have a lot of books.  They have been a blanket of safety for me as long as I can remember, so naturally, they are an important element in my sacred bedroom space.  However, my bedroom also needs to be a sacred space for the man I share it with, and so I tried to include things that were reflections of him as well.  The shelf to the left of the bed is dedicated entirely to his things, and he also has things included among my book shelves.  In the end, a space was created that can be sacred for both of us.

5) Once your sacred space is created, consciously take the time to actually use the space. Don't allow it to fade in to the background of everything else in the hope.  Take the time to breath deeply and meditate in your space for at least five minutes every day.  No matter how busy we are, we can always find five minutes.


Where is your sacred space?
If you don't already have one, I hope I've given you some ideas and you'll have one soon!

Four Lost Babies: F***ing Miscarriages

I wrote this for Brenan a few weeks ago so that he could understand where I'm at.  It was meant to be personal and private.  I choose to share it now so that others who have felt this pain might know that they are not alone, and for those who may not have experienced this but wish to be able to understand loved ones who have.

I don't really want more kids, not really. I'd love to birth at least one more baby, but grow it and raise it, I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that again. I already have 5 children, my family is plenty big, and yet so very lonesome and small.
I was tentatively ready for my second child. I felt his presence several days before his Daddy and I rejoiced over a positive pregnancy test. But despite our joy, I felt restrained, and told Brenan we should wait to tell people. The next day I tested again...5 times and only two came out positive. My stomach sank. Part of me wanted to convince myself it was just because it was early, but the rest of me knew: this child wasn't here to stay. I didn't cry when he left, but there was a dull ache in my heart that still hasn't gone away.
After his passing, I chased after children. I NEEDED another baby like I needed to breathe . I was ready in every way that I could be ready. Come October I got that feeling again, I felt a precious little baby girl merge with my soul. A few days later I took the leap and peed on a stick: it was positive and we were so happy. I'd already had one miscarriage and so surely I had no reason to fear with this one. Once again, we held off on the news, but a week later with pregnancy ailments setting in and excitement that made us feel like we would explode if we kept it in any longer, we decided to share the news with our immediate family. Three days later I had some light spotting in the morning. I told myself spotting is normal in pregnancy and went about my day like things were normal, but fear creeped in. The next day blood still spotted my panty liner, and it was getting heavier. I sobbed all through the night. I knew my little girl was leaving and there was nothing I could do to save her. For weeks and months after I would be overcome by debilitating sobs that took control of my entire being. Two lost children. Two nameless babies I would never hold in my arms, two lives that no one knew about, and no one mourned.
After this pain, I gave up hope of ever holding one of my own babies ever again. I knew two miscarriages didn't mean anything so final, but the deep carnal part of my soul spoke otherwise, and so when I felt the spirit of my 4th baby I braced myself for the inevitable. I started bleeding within hours of the positive test and told no one. "It's just a regular period" I tried to lie to myself.
But it didn't stop me from wanting to spew hate in to the universe. I cringed at any mention of trying for another kid. But what kind of good Mormon wife and mother would I be if I stopped at one living child? So I trudged on. Until last month when I became overwhelmed with the fear of another miscarriage. I felt certain that if I didn't actively prevent pregnancy that month I would become pregnant, and I WOULD lose yet another sweet child. I expressed my fears and my desires and they were brushed aside until finally I choose to ignore them myself.
Then that feeling came, I knew I was pregnant as once again I felt the presence of a precious spirit. I remember the exact moment we said hello as I drove to a girls night outing. I began smiling. I've always enjoyed feeling my children's presence.  It's so very real. But as I smiled and recognized what was, It was all I could do to keep the waves of fear and grief locked away. A little over a week later I was several days late with my very punctual menstrual cycle when heavy cramping and bleeding set in. It could only mean one thing. I couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer.
I HATED this!!! I screamed profanities in to my tear soaked pillow as my one living child sat by my side, looking on with sad and questioning eyes. I KNEW this was going to happen, and I resented my husband for not letting me prevent it, while simultaneously desperately wishing he was there to wrap me in his arms.
My friends came to my aid though, taking me out to dinner and staying up late with me in my living room talking about anything and everything but babies and fucking miscarriages. But when two am came with their hugs and goodbyes, I crawled in to bed and was greeted by debilitating grief once again.
Then morning came, and I felt like I had regained just enough strength to survive the day, and I was met with more crippling news. I went numb. Silent tears leaked from my eyes off and on for most the day, but I honestly didn't feel much of anything. My emotions had involuntarily been whisked away, but whenever they showed signs of sneaking back in I fought hard to banish them once again. I didn't want to feel.
Brenan came home and I wanted more than anything to just forget my sorrow and leave my mourning behind.  But whenever Brenan pulled me in to his arms I would feel myself sinking in to the comfort and then instantly recoil as waves of fury and grief rocketed through my body.
After several days of hiding from emotions, I allowed some of the sorrow and anger to stay with me, I let it slowly seep in and I cried silently through out the night and woke with red-rimmed eyes.
Both our parents were in town for Brenan's graduation and so we put on happy faces. I didn't visibly withdraw from family through out the day because it WAS a special weekend for everyone.  Brenan and Travis (his brother) were graduating.  I didn't want to spoil it despite the fact I was dying inside . I also didn't want to have to explain anything to anyone.

That week was awful, that week was unbearable!  I died that week and yet today I'm still breathing, today I still manage to find joy.  Grief and misery, and suffocating sorrow over my lost children still pounce on me fairly regularly, but mostly I find myself wrestling with other struggles. Like the overwhelming coldness I feel towards any and all babies. My intense relief at NOT having a newborn right now and having no signs of one any time soon. I honestly like my life a lot right now. I really like our earthly family of three, though I ache to hold the four that will never call me mommy in this lifetime. I'm a mother to five, yet the world will only recognize the one. I always wanted at least five, perhaps that's why more and more I feel like I'm done.
I have my five.  I don't want to experience the roller coaster of having and then losing yet another. I feel their presence so intensely that it would be impossible not to be overwhelmed with grief when their short lives are over. It's a blessing and a horrible burden. A burden that I will break under if I have to experience yet another miscarriage any time soon.
Words of comfort make me feel as though the wind has been knocked out of me. Don't fucking tell me God will send me a baby when I'm ready for it. You might as well say "you're not ready for a baby so God let yours die." Don't fucking tell me this will make me stronger. Don't fucking tell me everything will work out in the end. Don't fucking tell me there's a reason for everything and it's all part of God's plan. What I need is someone to wrap me in their arms and tell me life is shit and unfair and weep from the depths of their soul as I do the same.
I'm not ready to move on, and even when I am the pain will always be there. I need it to always be there because it's all I have left of my 4 lost babies.

Objectification: it hurts me, it hurts my child, it's a silent poison to all of us.

I've been spending a lot of time recently wondering what kind of world Italia is going to grow up in.  I can't even begin to imagine what technology is going to be like when she's my age, what state our economy will be in, who will be running the political field, etc.  However, what I find myself dwelling on most, is how she will be effected by her female genitals.

Our country has come so far in the past 100 years.  Women can vote, own property, run multi-million dollar companies, and do so much more in so many ways.  Yet, in the past few years I've become more and more aware of one area where women are suffering greatly: female objectification.  To objectify a person means that they are made to appear as an inanimate object.  When it comes to women, there is almost always a sexual aspect to this.  Marketing, movies, TV shows, they are all full of female sexual objectification in which women appear as nothing more than dehumanized sexual "things" to be acted upon.  If female objectification is a new concept to you, or you simply want to learn more about it, this article is great at explaining how to recognize it.

Our culture is flooded in female objectification, and I'm terrified at the thought of my sweet little girl being one of its victims.  It's so pervasive that few people see the damage it causes, but those that understand the dangers of sexual objectification know that it goes hand in hand with rape culture (read this for an explanation of what rape culture is).  We are so used to seeing this objectification that when I point it out, people rarely understand why it is so disturbing.  One example that comes to mind is the Fast and the Furious movies.  They are wildly entertaining, and yet, it's littered with "sexy" women that add absolutely nothing to the story, never even speaking, they are there purely to provide visual pleasure for the heterosexual male viewers.  After watching the newest of these movies with several men, I mentioned that this movie seemed to objectify women even more than the previous ones, and while they very readily agreed with me, they failed to see why this was an issue I was concerned about.  They didn't understand that the more they see women as sexual objects in the media, the more likely they are to view the women they encounter as sexual objects.  

It's hard for even the best of people not to be effected by near constant exposure to these images.  One example of this that has long been a thorn in my side is how men and women a like feel the need to comment on whether or not an actress is "hot" or "ugly."  Apparently it is unacceptable in our culture for an actress to play a leading role if they are not at least an "8."  Yes, girls like to giggle over the sexy actors as well, I'll admit, I drool over Thor every chance I get, BUT I'm not in the least bit bothered by watching a movie staring an actor such as Jack Black, or Adam Sandler.  They have their own quirky, endearing qualities that make them attractive in their own rights.  So why is it that whenever Drew Barrymore (an actress that I personally love) comes up in conversation, without fail, some boy feels the need to speak negatively of her looks as though that somehow plays a role in determining how good an actress she is?  Female Sexual Objectification is the culprit.  The media has taught us that women are to be viewed first and foremost as sexual objects, therefore an actress MUST be visually sexually gratifying to be a good actress.  This means that if you're not down right "gorgeous" by cultural standards and you dream of being an actress, you better be happy with only ever being cast as the comedic relief.  But I'm not worried about this objectification because I think it will hurt Tali's future acting career, I have much more leering concerns.

This objectification effects every women.  Why do women feel the need to waste hours of their life remaining hair-free every where but their head?  Female Sexual Objectification.  Why do women waste thousands of dollars and countless hours covering up their natural beauty with foundations, bronzers, highlighters and blush?  Female Sexual Objectification.  We have been taught our whole lives that we need to be "pretty."  We try so hard to fit ourselves into this very narrow mold of how we believe we're supposed to look.  Hairy legs are not "sexy," blond eye lashes do not make for "flirty" eyes and if you glow in the dark you better be hitting the tanning bed the first chance you get!  How comfortable you feel in those skinny jeans does not matter so long as they make your butt look perky.  How much it hurts when you get that bikini wax is insignificant so long as it makes your partner happy.  I hope the absurdity of these last statements is wildly obvious.  What women want and feel IS important, far more important than how we will be sexually percieved. Doing something uncomfortable, or down right painful for the soul purpose of "improving" our appearance is wrong, Yet here we are.  You'd be hard pressed to find a girl that had never done something they didn't like for no other reason than wanting to be sexier.  You'd be hard pressed to find a girl that wasn't doing something they didn't like for the soul purpose of being "prettier" every day of her life.  We are so used to it that we've convinced ourselves that we don't mind, that we'er doing it for "us" (not the boy we flirt with in gym class, or the one we call husband).

Yet, even this is not what troubles me most about our objectifying culture. What keeps me up at night is the teenage boys that molest a female peer and come out as the "victims" in the media because they're future football careers are ruined.  Meanwhile the girl who's seeking justice for the horrible violation done to her body is the slut that was asking for it.  When a woman is made in to an object, things are done TO her. Objects are meant to be used and discarded. Objects are not people, they're tools.  Objects have no rights.  Women are NOT objects.  My daughter is a PERSON and she deserves to grow up in a world where that fact is not  undermined in the slightest. That world does not exist.  That world may never exist.

Women will never stop being objects so long as individuals continuely refuse to see it as a problem.  Recognize this poison. Acknowledge it. Demand change from those around you and slowly, women will become people again.