The other day I was talking to a writer friend about moments of what I deemed “Cosmic Thrust,” or moments where the Universe unexpectedly delivers some Big Bang, cut-to-the-bone Undeniable Knowing. These instances can come in the form of dreams or songs or signs or connections — anything goes. But when you feel the ferocity of that energetic penetration, you know your world is rocked. Sometimes it’s beautiful. Sometimes it’s terrifying. Often it’s a little bit of both.
I could line up such moments in my own life, starting from age two. There was my first memory — of having to literally throw up my gut because no one believed that I hadn’t actually eaten the berries on the bush in the backyard (a story for another time). Years later there was meeting Jeff White on the first day of school at MFS in the sixth grade (and, 21 years later, there was the news of his passing). There was hearing Natalie Merchant’s voice for the first time at age 14. But I’ll spare you the minutiae of enumerated recounting. Suffice it to say that these moments have been many. And they’ve covered the spectrum – from magnetic first encounters with Special People, to spontaneous remembrances of pivotal past lives, to epiphanies that have roused me to the core.
You’ve had your own seminal moments, no doubt. If, like me, you’ve been uber-conscious of them, you’ve had no choice but to heed the call, allowing the tenaciousness of their pull to shape your future in unsuspecting ways. A well-honed internal compass coupled with an insatiable hunger for Something More is an unyielding combination for sure.
If you let it, Desire will take you for a ride. But make no mistake: there is no backseat driving allowed. However, if you’re like me, you’re going to try. Despite the fact that you Know Better.
So this is the story of how I got hijacked by Desire and eventually learned to ride shotgun. (FYI: I’m still learning.)
It started in 2008. I was working as an intern therapist during my graduate training in Counseling Psychology. My client was late. And so, in my newfound spare moments, I went perusing the bookshelf of the woman whose office I happened to be using that day. What caught my attention was a book of women’s quotations – Return of the Great Goddess, or something like that. It was far from an earth-shattering or even novel concept; in my more cynical moments, I might have even called it cliché.
I opened to a random page. What stared back at me was a quote from a woman named Deena Metzger, whom I’d never heard of before. The line itself wasn’t what jolted me (in fact, I don’t even remember it), but rather the title of the work it was excerpted from: The Woman Who Slept With Men to Take The War Out of Them.
The unwitting discovery absolutely ravaged me. It pierced through every cell of my body with an unshakable This-Is-It vibration of Full Throttle Truth. This woman was in touch with Something Essential. And in that moment of revelation, a code got activated.
I immediately set off on my quest to learn more. I read several of Deena’s works; The Woman Who (a short play about a woman who attempts to seduce a ruthless war general in an effort to open him to potent forces of a different kind), Tree (a memoir, from the year I was born, about her experience with breast cancer and healing), myriad essays (including a piece about reclaiming the archetype of the Sacred Prostitute), some poetry. Like me, Deena had a profound relationship with Eros; there might have even been genius there.
But she had a first-rate education. Through my research, I came to discover her relationship with Anais Nin. The two were writers and met at a party when Deena was in her 20s; Nin was 30+ years her senior and took the young talent under her proverbial wing that night. What ensued was a lifelong (or until Nin’s death, anyway) connection of tremendous fecundity, the story of which revealed itself to me, energetically, well beyond the tangibility of the words on the page.
Their partnership vibrated a truly co-creative energy; one that I recognized on some kind of numinous level. The two collectively worked to bridge the gap between the ruthlessly wild male world and the exquisitely soft feminine landscape.
I understand the relentless pursuit of Truth and Beauty; some of us are compelled to dream the world into being. We are Vision Carriers.
There is a magnetism that occurs when we’re answering the same call. And so, when Deena Metzger serendipitously arrived in Philadelphia last month, I knew I had to meet her.
I signed up to attend a Re-visioning Circle, and I also made an appointment for a private session. When I arrived at the home of the woman hosting, Deena greeted me at the door. She was petite – almost tiny, in fact – but her energy was vast. She reminded me of myself in that regard.
“How do we know each other?” she asked.
“We don’t yet,” I told her. “Or maybe we do.”
She complimented me on my cowboy boots and invited me to take a seat across from her.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
A loaded question. This was not something I could sum up in a sentence. God knows I’d neurotically rehearsed lame versions of the elusive “answer” for days prior. I finally gave up, surrendering my poised dignity and opting instead for an impromptu soliloquy on the spot.
I told Deena the story of how I found her work. I told her of the impact it had. I told her about the cosmic imperative to heal the Feminine Wound. I told her about my fascination with the archetype of the Sacred Prostitute. And, finally, I told her that I understood something of her relationship with Anais Nin. For I, too, knew Eros and its potential to animate the dream through soul-making with another.
The threads of ensuing conversation abundantly unfurled. They became like fine-winding tendrils, both deliberate and messy, delicately tangling together against the steady backdrop of our shared inquiry.
Deena more or less blew my mind; I’m still not sure exactly what happened in that hour. A Buddhist regressionist of mine always used to say that the more confused I was, the better the session. If that is truly the measure of expansion and shift, then something profound undoubtedly occurred that afternoon.
It’s funny; sometimes there is Undeniable Knowing even when there isn’t. Our encounter was monumental although I don’t yet fully know why.
But I’m on the road to understanding.
The first clue lies in one particular line that I’ve been perpetually turning over in my mind and heart ever since. It feels like an infinitely wise mantra, even in my immeasurable frustration.
“Ashley,” Deena said to me, “Desire will be both your call and your tempering.”
But wait. Isn’t it the other way around? Isn’t it about me cultivating my Desire? Who suddenly put Desire on top?
I thought about my poem, with the ironically fitting reference to Odysseus. And I marveled at my own hubris. To think that I was greater than the Ultimate Force that had its foot on the gas, while I was merely a naïve passenger.
Perhaps I made my way to Deena for the prerequisite crash course in humility. No doubt the next phase of the journey will need me at the ready.
Here is what I can tell you. At best, I can sign on as an accomplice to Desire. But to aid it is to yield to its promptings rather than the force of my own will. Sometimes it will be fluid and easy, for the cosmic and the personal may align perfectly in moments. But, at other times, Desire might say “Not now,” or “Not in this way” and that’s when it’s tempting to act like a pouty child.
The “Fulfillment of Desire” is a curious phrase to me these days. But I don’t mean that in some jaded, we-can’t-possibly-have-what-we-want way. Rather, I intend it as a reframe, to imply some sort of more magnanimous experience – that of Desire fulfilling or delivering us.
It is likely that I ventured to meet Deena Metzger because I assumed she had something crucial to teach me about reclaiming the Feminine. You might be tempted to say that I was wrong, for she spoke to me of other things. But what if this ultimate surrender — this collapsing of our impulse to struggle and steer so that we might be fully potentiated — what if this were actually the perfect antidote to the tendency that we have to manhandle our most beautifully tempering Force?
In the end, Deena did have a lesson for me about the Feminine Principle. She is, after all, a peacebuilder in any country of war. And for tonight, at least, there are no prisoners in the land of Desire.
photo credit: Luz Adriana Villa A. via photo pin cc
