Diversity, tolerance, and heads in the sand...

Originally published on Chattanooga-Pagans Yahoo! Group, December 7, 2007:

In my opinion, our culture is missing a big opportunity. We've gotten heavily focused on handling diverstity by trying to pretend it doesn't exist. I've heard people at work, mostly atheists, agnostics, and pagans (rarely Christians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, etc.), say that religion should be a private matter and people have no business bringing it into the workplace. While there are always those who take things to inappropriate extremes, in general I can't see how this can be true. If our spiritual paths, our religions, are central to our lives, part of our daily walk, how can we leave them at home? How can we effectively bring our whole selves to the task at hand when we have to leave part of ourselves on a shelf somewhere? Perhaps a better focus would be to focus on the inappropriate behavior of some individuals. If a co-worker shares his or her faith with me in an appropriate way - meaning they don't interfere with my work or my personal time or refuse to stop when I tell them to - I'm not harmed in any way. If I believe the person is crossing the line, I have the responsibility to say so, directly to them, respectfully but clearly. If they don't respect my wishes at that point, I've got a gripe. But the gripe is with that behavior, not with the fact that the person displays their religion at work. The same with prayer; if a group of people share a prayer in my presence, so what? Prayer is a highly personal thing. Maybe I can use that time to say a prayer of my own, or even join in theirs.

I have heard the phrase, "Freedom of religion is absolute." I don't know exactly what the originator of the phrase was thinking, but I know what that means to me. I am the person absolutely and finally responsible for my own spiritual walk and my relationship to Diety. No one can take that responsibility from me. No one can take away my right to exercise that responsibility as I believe appropriate. They can make it difficult by attempting to control my outward behavior, even to the point of killing me if I don't comply. But I always have the right to continue if doing so is more important to me than the consequences of my actions. Martyrs of every walk ever walked have proven this over and over. No matter what everyone around me is doing, I have all the power of choice at my command. It's a lot harder for me to become offended by the actions of those around me when I think of it this way. It also forces me to look at my feelings about my choices. If I feel uncomfortable about the choice I make (to leave a room when a devotional is disturbing to me, for instance), whose fault is it? It was my choice; I guess I'll have to shoulder the blame for how I feel about it.

It's time we all revisited the idea of cultural and religious diversity. We make a big fuss about "tolerance," but we're not tolerating something if we have to pretend it doesn't exist.

That helpless feeling...

I hate knowing something is wrong, knowing someone is in trouble and needs help and not being able to make it happen! Arrrrrrhhhh! It's infuriating and frustrating and makes me feel helpless and ineffective and ... awful. I'm watching that happen right now with a woman in a horribly abusive situation, mentally and physically, and it's driving me nuts.

I'm doing what I can, which isn't much, but the ball is really in her court. There are people trying to help her, making a way for her to get out of the situation she's in, but until she is willing to take the proferred hand and make the first step out the door, all the efforts are in vain. That's the part that frustrates me most.

I believe with all my heart that we learn lessons in life through experience. Most of the time we're where we are, experiencing whatever we're experiencing, because we've got something to learn. Sometimes it's a direct, immediate cause-and-effect relationship; sometimes I have to think it's more karmic. In all cases, we usually keep experiencing until we get the lesson. The learning shifts our behavior which changes our experience and we start with new lessons. I don't want to interfere with anyone's learning experience but DAMN! Get this one already and get the hell out of there!

Sorry...had to say that somewhere. End of rant...back to work...

History of the Vibrator...and one wonders...

...why such a simple, pleasure-giving device has such a history?

A great article - found here - in the TimesOnline UK edition recaps the history of the vibrator. Seems the handy little devices started life as medical equipment (which most of us already knew) and only gradually made their way into the hands of the women they were designed to help.

Interesting stuff...a good read...and begs the same questions I've asked since I was old enough to have the faintest tingle between the thighs and the awareness that something was "wrong" about that sweet tingle...that I wasn't supposed to feel that and NEVER supposed to talk about feeling it: How in heaven's name did we become so screwed up about sex?

Case in point: the article talks about the vibe's rise in popularity and acceptance, right up until silent films began depicting it being used sexually...after which it disappeared from advertisements and ready availability for 50 years. What the...? It was all fine and dandy when it was a medical device but the minute it's associated with sex, back into the closet it goes!

We've certainly come a long way, but I'm not sure it's all been in the right direction. No...that's not true...I'm entirely sure that much of it has been backward. We no longer, praise be, deny that women do, indeed, enjoy sex...and, at least in American culture, we don't openly deny that they should. But you can't buy a nice vibrator at the drugstore, either. Well, you can...but it will be called a massager and will show pictures of perfectly manicured female hands blissfully massaging neck and shoulders, with copy that reads, "Relaxes all kinds of muscles, relieves tension, soothes and refreshes...". The best of those illustrations are for the pale, creamy colored plastic vibes shaped like vaguely penis-like rockets, shown cozied up to the little indentation where the cheekbone and neck meet. Puh-leeze! Who massages their jawbone with a hard plastic penis? For that matter, who massages their shoulders with one?

And then, there's the issue of how female celebrities and models look or are made to look in photographs and movies. For one thing, they don't look that way. They're real people and real people, without exception, have hair, bumps, lumps, cellulite, discoloration, dark eye circles, thinning hair, enlarged pores, and a host of other beautiful flaws that just go with the human territory. You won't find many pictures of them...in fact, you find photoshopped miracles of inhuman beauty everywhere. If a young girl gets hold of a men's magazine with production levels of any quality, they might (and do) get the idea that "pretty", "sexy", and "beautiful" are all synonymous with hairless, flawless, perfectly made-up, and forever young. What a disservice!

Yes, I know...I'm not saying anything new. We're all aware of the issues. But are we aware enough? Has our awareness led to action? Have we, personally...you, me, your next door neighbor, your daughter/mother/wife/girlfiend...have we done anything about it? Have we begun to talk more openly and honestly about sexuality? Have we admitted, even to each other, that we actually own sex toys? Have we made sure our daughters see as many examples of real, beautiful, sexy, flawed-and-thus-flawless women in their lives as they do artifically enhanced paper dolls? Have our celebrity women talked candidly about their profession and about how what they portray is not who they are? Have we ended the disgusting habit of mentally clawing the eyes of every woman who shows a bit more skin than we think proper, or who openly dates multiple men or has multiple sexual partners? Have we given up judging each other more harshly than anyone?

And while we're at it (though this is a slight left turn), have we wised up and started giving violent, horror-filled movies depicting scenes of bloody dismemberment, unspeakable cruelty, and death by the minute the same XXX ratings we reserve for movies that depict sexual acts? I'm no big fan of pornography because of the distorted way it portrays sex, but I fail to see how it can be worse than "Saw". In fact, given a choice between my 17-year-old watching porn and watching a crazy, demented, violent blood-fest, I'd have to say, "Bring on the f***ing!" At least sex is a life-affirming act.

I don't have answers; I have questions, and I have to keep asking them because none of the answers so far have made much sense.

And another thing...

Ok, so I'm still riled up about the whole breast thing. And I think it's a fully justified, truly righteous indignation I'm working up.

You see, the part that has me the most upset is that it's women - W-O-M-E-N - who tend to make the most fuss about things like seeing breasts exposed. Women! It's our breasts we're bitching about!

You might think I'm making an unreasonably big fuss over this issue. In fact, it's an unreasonably big issue. Here's why (bear with me; it's a long explanation):

Men are biologically driven to seek sex. As soon as a young man hits puberty, it's pretty much up-periscope and he's dragged around by the end of his heat-seeking missile for a few years (more than a few). Now, guys, don't get mad. I'm not implying that you don't excercise control and take the reins back...but I've never talked to a man yet who didn't admit that he nicknamed his privates because he wasn't comfortable having a total stranger in charge of his life.

Women, on the other hand, are wired a bit differently. We love sex, but our biological drive is seated in another cradle. We have greater control over our physical desires but we're positively addicted to acceptance, love, and being the object of exclusive desire.

Add to this little mix the fact that, as my former mother-in-law (now resting, presumably in peace) used to say - "Yeah, little boy, you've got one of those, but I've got one of these, and with this I can get all of those I want!" Is it not true? My husband puts it quite succinctly. He asks simply, "If you're a woman, answer this question with total honesty: Could you, if you chose to do so, get laid tonight? Not necessarily with the person or under the circumstances you might desire, but could you have sexual intercourse with a willing partner tonight?" The answer is, in almost every single case, yes. And that translates to one thing: power.

Sexuality is powerful. Women's sexuality is extremely powerful. The biological imperative placed on men to spread the seed far and wide makes them vulnerable to this power. So how, without killing off your source for the very thing that renders you so vulnerable in the first place, do you right the power imbalance? You enlist the aid of an equal or more powerful ali.

Enter the church. What better way to reduce the power of women's sexuality than to declare it disgusting, filthy, defiling, sinful in its very nature and existence. "The hands that have touched a woman are not fit to handle the body of Christ." Filthy daughters of filthy Eve. Lusty succubi used by the devil to ensnare innocent men in a pit of carnal degradation. So filthy are women that some priests are required to be celebate in order to handle the Host. And it's obviously not Christianity alone that feels the need to protect against the evils of feminine sexuality. Look at Islam. And don't even get me started on cultures that perform ritual mutilation on women, excising the clitoris and part of the labia as a "right of passage."

And the worst part of all this? Women themselves have bought into it. We may not run around calling ourselves evil, filthy, or inherently unclean, but let one of us show a breast in public and Katie, bar the door, it's on! Let one of our sisters show a little too much leg or a bit more clevage than we think appropriate and we're slinging "slut" and "tramp" like poison darts. A flirtatious woman gets a little male attention while other women are quietly plotting her demise. Even the most non-sexual use of our bodies - pregnancy, childbirth, nursing - is subject to the madness. Case in point: The August 2006 issue of Baby Talk magazine featured a nursing baby on the cover. There was such an uproar about the cover that the magazine polled readers and at least 25% responded that they are upset or offended by the photo. Who reads the magazine? Women! Women with babies! Women with BREASTS! Read the article.

It's all about power, folks. And the sad part is that it really doesn't have to be this way. But you can bet that it will stay as long as the prisoners keep polishing the bars and making sure the doors shut tight. If women don't reclaim and own their own sexual power and learn to use it ethically and for the good of all, we'll always be evil daughters of evil Eve. If we're going to think anything is disgusting, it should be that. I know I'm ashamed.

Beasts! Beasts! Beware the beasts!

I read recently where some people were highly offended by other people exposing their beasts in public. Well, I should say so! I don’t want to see anyone’s beasts! And what about the children? What were these people thinking? Beasts are to be kept private, covered, hidden away. They could hurt someone!

Oh…wait…by golly, I read that wrong. It was breasts, not beasts. Huh…funny what a difference that "r" makes.

Only… well… it seems that it doesn’t make any difference at all. People are just as offended by breasts as they are by beasts. Offended? By breasts? Life-giving, sweater-filling, put-your-head-on-my-pillows breasts actually offend people? Apparently so. Some folks seem to equate beasts – snarly, scary things with fangs and bad attitudes – with breasts – soft, jiggly things with little pink nipples and no attitudes at all other than perky, and even that goes away pretty darned quickly.

Further confusing matters, some breasts seem to be more offensive than others. A Hollywood breast, for example, draped in something sheer or shiny that barely covers only the cute little nipple, is not likely to cause any but the nicest kind of stir. People will snap photos of it for magazines, newspapers, and websites, and afford it honors like "Best Dressed." But a Chattanooga breast, clothed in a cotton camp shirt from J. C. Penney, a nursing bra, and the lips of a cherub-cheeked infant – that breast can cause a ruckus. Expressions of disgust and even outrage rise up all around whenever one of those puppies raises its nose (even though the nose is, technically, covered by the baby).

I guess I just don’t get it. I was ok when I thought it was beasts causing all the commotion. But breasts? Breasts that are feeding babies? Nourishing, pure-and-perfect mother’s milk dispensing, comfort-giving, smells like mama…what in the name of all that is human can possibly be offensive about that? Have we become so sexually driven that we can’t see past our own neurotic obsession with the prelude, losing sight of the main attraction? All that sexual activity we associate with breasts leads right up to babies, and babies have to be fed. That makes breasts pretty much full-circle, self-contained, the right tool for the right job perfect, if you ask me… and nothing to be ashamed of.

Hmmph. I think some of these folks’ beasts are showing…and I AM offended.