It seems to me that ‘joy’ is a word that has become unfashionable and, perhaps, lost meaning for the modern age. My aim is to explore the meaning of joy, the ways in which we can develop a capacity to tap into joy, and the qualities of being that contribute to this capacity.
I invite you to comment on the articles that you will find here – simply click the post title to make sure you are in the full article and add your comments in the box at the foot of the page. Please join the conversation…and welcome!
Footnote: since this was written in 2010, it seems as if a conversation about joy has erupted – so wonderful!
Can a simple pronoun help change the world? Is it possible that, by learning from Indigenous peoples the grammar of animacy, we might fundamentally change the way in which we relate to the world around us?
The words we use shape how we understand ourselves, how we interpret the world, how we treat others. . . Words make worlds. 1
Beings not things
Three years ago, in The Language of Animacy, I wrote how in her wonderful book, Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer ‘gifted me with one of those precious moments of illumination that shift the world on its axis.’
She speaks of the way in which Indigenous languages depend less on static nouns and more on verbs in relation to what is perceived as ‘animate’. In Potawatomi, as well as plants and animals, the animate includes rocks, mountains, water, fire, places. These become ‘beings’ instead of ‘things’ (objects).
Those beings imbued with spirit deserve their own grammar – including our sacred medicines, our songs, drums and even stories are animate. 3
‘It’ as objectification
When we call an animal, a flower, a tree, a river or lake ‘it’, we objectify those things. This is not the grammar of respect. It reduces any sense of moral responsibility that we might have. Would you refer to a person as ‘it’? To do so would be insulting, robbing that person of selfhood and kinship. And yet we speak of Mother Earth and the beings with whom we share the Earth as ‘it’.
Speaking with the grammar of animacy requires that we relate from moral consideration. We have to have ecological compassion for the ‘beings’ around us.
When we connect to the world from beingness, kinship, story, spiritual tradition, it is a joy to be in the world that way!
Robin Wall Kimmerer takes this further to suggest that Indigenous languages were seen as a threat to colonization:
The language we speak is an affront to the ears of the colonist in every way, because it is a language that challenges the fundamental tenets of Western thinking—that humans alone are possessed of rights and all the rest of the living world exists for human use. Those whom my ancestors called relatives were renamed natural resources . . . Replacing the aboriginal idea of land as a revered living being with the colonial understanding of land as a warehouse of natural resources was essential to Manifest Destiny, so languages that told a different story were an enemy.4
The impact of objectification is summed up beautifully in a poem by Cherokee writer Marilou Awiakata 5:
When Earth Becomes an “It”
When the people call the Earth “Mother,” They take with love And with love give back So that all may live.
When the people call Earth “it,” They use her Consume her strength. Then the people die.
Already the sun is hot Out of season. Our Mother’s breast Is going dry. She is taking all green Into her heart And will not turn back Until we call her By her name.
‘Ki’ – an alternative pronoun in the grammar of animacy
In consultation with her elder and language guide, Stewart King, Robin Wall Kimmerer began to explore the possibility of an alternative pronoun that might be used within the English language to help reconnect us.
She began from Aakibmaadiziiwin, which means ‘a being of the earth’, bmaadiziaki – ‘an earth being’. Looking for something simpler that fits more easily as an English pronoun, she arrived with some delight at ki.
Ki to signify a being of the living earth. Not he or she, but ki. So that when the robin warbles on a summer morning, we can say, “Ki is singing up the sun.” Ki runs through the branches on squirrel feet, ki howls at the moon, ki’s branches sway in the pine-scented breeze, all alive in our language as in our world. 4
Others have commented that the sound ‘kee’ has resonance with ‘qui’ (who) in the Latinate languages. Ki is also a parallel spelling of qi or chi, the Chinese word for the life-force energy that flows through all things. It is used similarly in Japanese (spirit, mind, nature, air or energy). It already carries some weight of meaning within common usage.
There is, too, an obvious plural form, kin. What could be more perfect? Kin brings us into the community of all that lives, a state of belonging. For a long time, I have referred to my dearest friends as ‘heart-kin’. Now all those beings who surround us in the beautiful place we call home, including the trees, the rocks, the lake, are also embraced in the word kin. And I recognize them as my greatest teachers.
Dr. Wall Kimmerer, a biologist, decorated professor, and enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, leads her students to explore nature from both Western and Indigenous perspectives. When she introduces them to the idea of ki, for many it profoundly shifts their relationship with the world around them. It is easy to pick up a saw to cut down an ‘it’, even if you name it Maple or Birch. But when that tree is perceived as ki, a living being, there is connection, moral responsibility and gratitude that requires a much greater consciousness of that act.
If pronouns can kindle empathy, I want to shower the world with their sound. 4
Making ‘ki’ personal
During the wonderful speaker session6 that prompted this post, there was some commentary in the chat about choosing to adopt ki as an alternative personal pronoun. I am drawn to this, though as an additional rather than alternative pronoun. I identify comfortably as ‘she/her’. But it strikes me that it specifies what I am not as much as what I am. There is an implicit ‘othering’ in this. It certainly doesn’t define me.
I am, though, absolutely, an ‘earth-being’, seeking to live in kinship with all that is. So my pronouns should be ki/she/her. This represents me much more fully and inclusively. It also speaks of my commitment to living consciously with gratitude and to my openness to learning from all beings.
Words as activism
I stand with Robin Wall Kimmerer in her view that the words we choose can be transformative and a force of creative resistance. And I loved that she encouraged us to ‘do it with joy!’
Language can be a tool for cultural transformation. Make no mistake: “Ki” and “kin” are revolutionary pronouns. Words have power to shape our thoughts and our actions. On behalf of the living world, let us learn the grammar of animacy. We can keep “it” to speak of bulldozers and paperclips, but every time we say “ki” let our words reaffirm our respect and kinship with the more-than-human world. Let us speak of the beings of the earth as the “kin” they are. 5
6 With much gratitude for the wonderful speaker session with Robin Wall Kimmerer entitled Land, Love, Language – Healing our relationship with the natural world on January 18, 2024, part of the 4 Seasons of Indigenous Learning 2024-2025 Course
I thoroughly recommend the reading of any or all of the above articles – I’ve barely scratched the surface in my post and they are full of riches.
I have not yet read Krista Tippett’s book but look forward to doing so.
You may be wondering what draws me to study and engage with Indigenous perspectives. Why is it important to me to be an ally as the many original peoples of Turtle Island (North America) attempt to reclaim their culture, heritage, language, and traditional teachings?
Background
In 2017, reflecting on the sense of ‘homecoming’ I felt in a return to rural life, I wrote:
I was ever a child of nature, integrally connected with the rhythm of the seasons and with a strong link between external and internal realities.
I never identified comfortably as an Englishwoman. I did wonder if, had I grown up in Scotland or Ireland, I might more easily have embraced a sense of identity. Even without any deep knowledge, it seemed to me that my way of relating to the world whispered of my Celtic heritage. But maybe it was just the influence of my Irish born grandfather, who spent much of his working life in the Far East. As a teenager, I connected particularly strongly with the awareness of the flow of Nature I found in Taoism. I was also struck by the wisdom I found in ‘Native American’ teachings.
Indigenous Canada
It is not, then, surprising that when we came to Canada, I would seek out knowledge of First Nations, Innuit, and Metis peoples. I made and continue to make concerted efforts to expose myself to Indigenous writing, art, and film.
What shocked me at the time was how little most Canadians seemed to know about Indigenous history and culture. I’m glad to say this has moved forward somewhat. This is in part because of the Truth and Reconciliation process. I reflected on the shift in my post Tyendinaga Pow Wow, August 10, 2024.
In 2013, we attended our first Pow Wow at Wikwemikong on Manitoulin Island. If you read the linked article, please be aware that knowledge is incremental. I would not, now, for instance, ever use the term ‘costume’. The beautiful clothing worn by Pow Wow dancers is termed ‘regalia’. It is deeply expressive of the spirit and heritage of the wearer. I understood a great deal more by the time we attended the Tyendinaga Pow Wow in 2024. It is important to remember that knowledge and understanding increase over time. Deepening these is an ongoing process.
Whilst working at the Anglican Diocese of Toronto, I chose to make Indigenous issues and the Truth and Reconciliation process the focus of my learning. I was lucky enough to be able to draw on the experiences and perceptions of one of the priests in my Bishop’s area, Riscylla Shaw. Riscylla, now a Bishop, is herself Metis. She served as a witness and an Ambassador for the Anglican Church for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC).
Reconciliation is about healing Canada. It is not an Indigenous problem. It is a colonization problem.
Kevin Lamoureux, Instructor, University of Winnipeg
So, what is it that draws me to this work?
A belief that what is termed the Indigenous Worldview has much to offer all of us. Indigenous knowledge and wisdom concern our humanity. We need them for the whole world!
It reflects a way of relating to the world that speaks to my sensibilities.
An awareness of the damage inflicted by colonialism on Indigenous individuals and culture.
An acknowledgement of my responsibility as a Canadian citizen to understand and address the impact of this as part of the ongoing process of reconciliation. Each of us has an opportunity to be part of the solution.
My ongoing, lifelong commitment to making a difference and facilitating environments in which change can occur. It matters to me to use my voice and actions to bring about meaningful change.
What is meant by the term Indigenous?
In Canada, Indigenous refers to the original inhabitants of Turtle Island (what we know as North America) and their descendants. It is an umbrella term for First Nations (status and non-status), Métis and Inuit. Indigenous refers to all of these groups, either collectively or separately. It is also the term used in international contexts, e.g., the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP).
Whilst Indigenous is used as a collective term, it is most appropriate to refer to Indigenous peoples by the proper names of their communities or nations, e.g. Algonquin, Haudenosaunee, Anishinaabe. Canada was born of many Indigenous nations.
Indigenous Worldview
We are all connected!
It is generally perceived that Indigenous cultures have a holistic relationship to all things, seeing everything as interconnected. All living things contribute to the circle of life equally and should be acknowledged and respected as such.
There is no single Western or Indigenous worldview, but the following draws together and compares some of the common strands of each:
Indigenous Worldview
Western Worldview
A spiritually orientated society, based on belief in the spirit world. We were born into this world to be spiritual, to be givers.
A scientific, skeptical society, requiring ‘proof’ as a basis of belief.
There can be many truths, dependent upon individual experience.
There is only one truth, based on science or Western style law.
Everything and everyone is interconnected.
Society and the way the world is viewed is compartmentalized.
The land is sacred. Mother Earth is sacred, and central to our existence.
The land and its resources should be available for development and extraction for the benefit of humans – it is Man’s to control.
Time is non-linear and cyclical in nature.
Time is usually perceived as linear and future oriented.
Feeling comfortable with your life is measured by the quality of your relationships with people.
Feeling comfortable with your life is related to how successful you feel you have been in achieving your goals.
Human beings are seen as equally important to plants, animals and other living things.
Human beings are assumed to be superior and living thing are structured in a hierarchy.
Wealth is shared – amassing wealth is important for the good of the community (mutual reciprocity)
Wealth is accumulated – amassing wealth is for personal gain.
Collectivism
Individualism
Silence is valued.
Silence needs to be filled.
Emphasis on responsibilities.
Emphasis on rights.
Differing approaches to knowledge systems
There are, as a result of these differing Worldviews, very different approaches to knowledge systems:
Indigenous Worldview
Western Worldview
Establishing and maintaining relationships with all of creation – people, the earth, the spirit world and the cosmos – is the key to the creation, acquisition and sharing of knowledge worth knowing.
Knowledge is perceived as linear, singular and static in nature, resulting in the valuing of one ‘correct’ answer to any problem or question. It devalues and displaces other ways of knowing (intellectual imperialism).
Alternate answers or strategies are valued for their wisdom.
The establishment of hierarchies within knowledge is valued.
Sharing of knowledge is valued, in particular the building of relationships through such sharing.
Scientific method is absolute and knowledge is often restricted, ‘held’ by ‘experts’.
Knowledge is rooted in and connected to the place from which it came.
Knowledge is compartmentalized and categorized into small components.
The diversity of ways different people will know, understand and use knowledge is valued.
Written and abstract (symbolic) forms of knowledge are valued.
Knowledge serves to exert power over biological and social systems.
Knowledge is ‘property’ and a commodity.
Native science works with the rational and metaphoric mind simultaneously. Its processes are tied to creativity, perception, image, physical sensing, and intuition.
Dr. Gregory Cajete, Director of Native American Studies and an Associate Professor in the Division of Language, Literacy, and Sociocultural Studies in the College of Education at the University of New Mexico
Combining different ways of knowing
There is an increasing interest in using different knowledge systems, braiding together Indigenous knowledge, the knowledge of Western science, and the knowledge of the land.
Robin Wall Kimmerer presented a lovely way of visualizing this as a Three Sisters Knowledge Garden. In her metaphor, corn represents traditional knowledge, providing the intellectual scaffolding. Beans represent scientific knowledge, which is guided (supported) by the corn. Squash creates the climate (shade) that enables growth and represents agencies and institutions. She also notes that there is a ‘fourth sister’, the one who tends the garden!
Native science is a metaphor for Native knowledge. It is the stories of the world that include creative ways for living and participating in relationship with the world through processes for ‘seeking life, relationship and meaning’.
Dr. Gregory Cajete, Director of Native American Studies and an Associate Professor in the Division of Language, Literacy, and Sociocultural Studies in the College of Education at the University of New Mexico
I find it very exciting to see these ways of knowing and of learning gaining some traction and shaping innovative curriculum planning, as well as social planning, in which some parity of value is ascribed to Indigenous knowledge.
Likewise, I am awed by the way in which Indigenous knowledge and values are being applied in many modern contexts including science, healthcare, and technology. This may not be commonplace, but seeing businesses and projects choosing to work in these ways and thriving is so encouraging.
So, what am I doing about it?
Formal Indigenous learning
In the last eighteen months I have undertaken some rather more focused learning. I am now in my second of four years of Four Seasons of Indigenous Learning. This course serves to support participants in deepening their understanding of Indigenous knowledge and perspectives while strengthening connections with the local Land and supporting more respectful, reciprocal relationships.
Last year consolidated my background knowledge. This year is more reflective and rooted in my own relationship to the land and the area in which we live, a way of learning much more consistent with Indigenous knowledge systems.
But it is the ten virtual sessions offered each year with a wide range of Indigenous presenters that are most impactful. Hearing experiences and perspectives firsthand has real depth. I have learned so much.
Although the hours required by the coursework are not onerous, I continue to develop my knowledge beyond its boundaries, and sometimes get sucked down rabbit holes! I genuinely find the history of Indigenous habitation fascinating, if complex. And I am awed by people like architect and spiritual giant Douglas Cardinal. There is always more to explore!
Community connections
Perhaps even more important, I have begun to make real connections and friendships in the local Indigenous community, have been honoured to share in some of the teachings. These connections offer the deepest learning.
Indigenous representation and perspectives in WordPress
Our local lake association, Dog & Cranberry Lake Association, asked me to craft a Land Acknowledgement for them. Some debate about the Indigenous nations who have inhabited this land led me into some quite in-depth research. Once I have worked through my course for this year, I hope to put together an article for them reflecting Indigenous relationship to and habitation of this area.
An Indigenous cultural creative centre?
LodgePole Arts Alliance (LPAA) is a not-for-profit organization whose mandate is to build an Indigenous owned, operated, programmed, and animated land-based cultural creative center on the eastern edge of the Dish with One Spoon territories (Frontenac biosphere). This conceptual space will be inclusive, grounded in Eastern Woodland (Onkwe’honwe [Haudenosaunee] and Anishinaabe) cultural practices, knowledge and teachings, performances, exhibitions, and celebrations. This Indigenous-focused space will be the first of its kind in Canada on non-First Nation’s treaty/territory lands.
I am incredibly excited by what LodgePole Arts Alliance is proposing. It feels so appropriate given that Katarokwi (Kingston) was traditionally an Indigenous gathering place. I hope very much to become involved, at the very least volunteering to help with events.
Day-to-day
My relationship to the land and all that is is constantly deepened as I learn about Indigenous ways and perspectives. On a day-to-day level, I try to share the small amount of knowledge I have as and when people show interest, something that is becoming much more common.
This is how you change the world, the smallest circles first . . . That humble energy, the kind that says, ‘I will do what I can do right now in my own small way,’ creates a ripple effect on the world.
This poem is a consolidation of work I have done around grief and its integration into the fabric of living. Ultimately, grief is to me part of what underpins joy; with practice, we can access joy in grief.
I was asked by someone to contribute a piece about grief for an anthology, though at present this seems to be on hold. This was where the prompt led me.
I managed to listen to a few sessions from the 2022 Global Joy Summit. The focus of the second day was The Inseparability of Joy and Sorrow. I have long defined joy itself not as an emotion but as a way of being. What struck me was that there can be in every emotion a passage to joy.
We often separate our emotions into those we find difficult and those we think of as pleasurable. But the more I think about it, the more it seems to me that all our emotions rise up from our inner wilds. Every emotion brings its own gifts, and, with self-compassion, we have the ability to befriend them and channel them for the greatest good of self and others. But every emotion, even those we may think of as ‘positive’, has a shadow capacity for harm if allowed to run amok.
Anger
It’s easy to see that anger can be destructive. However, at its best, anger is also protective. It flags to us when our boundaries are being breached, when we are veering off course. It can also usefully inspire us to activism in response to perceived injustices, provide an impetus for change.
But, as a red-headed Celt, I know only too well the pain I can inflict on myself and others when, instead of being able to observe and be with my anger, I flare into a spike of adrenalin and words I will inevitably regret.
If an emotion is causing harm, it is likely turning sour.
I learned as a child to suppress my anger. I was ‘baited’ by my peers once they discovered I had a temper. So, for too long, I didn’t listen to its voice until I was overwhelmed by it. It has taken me many decades to begin to learn instead to recognize anger’s promptings, to acknowledge these both internally and with a brief expression, but then to attempt to stand back, breathe, and to see what is really required. Often the question is ‘what do I (or we) need to do differently?’ It may involve a re-stating of boundaries. I definitely find humor a helpful tool in defusing the moment. I think I am still better at accessing compassion for others than self-compassion though.
For me, anger’s relationship to joy is that it brings me back to my authentic self by enabling me to uphold my personal boundaries. It takes me to the place of what the Dalai Lama terms wise selfishness, a key component in cultivating joy. And when my anger is aroused by social issues, it ignites my compassion and connects me to an awareness of our shared humanity, at the heart of which is joy.
Sadness and grief
More than anything, sadness speaks to what we care about. Sadness and grief underpin our humanity.
Tears mark what is sacred.
Life is never static. Sadness and grief orient us to loss and impermanence. They draw us to necessary reflection, a slowing into quietness, ultimately to an understanding of the importance of presence in the moment. The root of grief is often love.
To be able to sit with sadness and grief is vitally important. If we try to block out the pain, it will stay with us, haunt us, and we will become stuck in a destructive cycle.
The acceptance of impermanence, that all things, all emotions pass – so implicit in grief and sadness – is another cornerstone of joy.
Happiness
‘Can happiness ever become excessive?’, I wondered.
We think of happiness as a positive emotion. Mostly it is, nourishing our sense of wellbeing. Finding delight in the everyday is no small part of the way in which I cultivate my capacity for joy. I talked about this in my post Joy and delight in challenging times.
I recognize in myself, though, a tendency sometimes to let the good times spiral. We speak of high mood, high energy, high times. Yet that ‘high’ too easily can take on an addictive edge, become excessive pleasure seeking, or pull us towards something more like mania or obsession.
I think that the acknowledgement of toxic positivity implies a recognition that there can be a distortion when we overemphasize ‘positive’ emotions and avoid the ‘negative’. Avoidance is a form of resistance and ultimately what we resist persists and can easily become poisonousto self and others.
It is interesting to look deeply at the emotions we term ‘positive’ and take heed of their shadows as well as to look for the gifts within those we experience as ‘difficult’.
Owning opportunities for growth, new insights, the deepening of our humanity and compassion by truly experiencing what we feel, is very different from avoidance. To me it implies that awareness of the thread that connects us to joy even when we are in the midst of suffering.
Friending the inner wilds
Our emotions are our constant companions. Too often, though, we fail to become truly familiar with them. We need our passions, for all their wildness. The more we are able to sit with them, to listen, to be, to let them flow through us, the easier it becomes to see all our emotions as friends rather than threats and to appreciate what they do for us. At the same time, we may gain an understanding of the ways in which we habitually inflate their more harmful aspects and develop strategies to defuse these.
This is a very personal process. Emotions are not as universally recognizable as we tend to think. At a macro level, recent research highlights cultural differences in emotional experience and expression. This implies to me that our individual emotions will have been shaded by all the different layers of culture.
My understanding of the gifts and the shadows in any emotion may not fit your experience. There are no short cuts or quick fixes. There is significant work involved in looking at the emotions that shape your life, including those you think of as ‘easy’ or ‘good’. Developing friendship and real understanding requires an investment of time, openness, and self-compassion.
In an earlier post on Love in the shadows I referred to the shadow hordes, a way in which I give identity to feelings and shadows by personifying them. I find this a useful technique through which to amplify my ability to recognize and relate to my emotions.
I believe that deep in the heart of the wilds is a quiet, peaceful, deeply compassionate space suffused with joy. Occasionally we catch glimpses of it, in ourselves, but more especially in great spiritual leaders like Archbishop Tutu and the Dalai Lama. I don’t think we are meant to live there all the time. We are meant to feel. Those feelings are part of the richness of our living. Our responsibility is to learn to respond to what we feel appropriately rather than simply to react and to appreciate the gifts our feelings hold.
Learning from the lake
What makes watching the lake so mesmerizing is its state of constant change. It does not, as far as I can tell, resist the whipping of its waves by the wind or the transition to ice in winter. Sometimes it sparkles, diamond strewn. Sometimes it hypnotizes me with the intersecting patterns of its ripples. Sometimes the depth of its stillness fills me with a quiet sense of awe. Different facets of its character are revealed by every change of light. To me, it is never anything but beautiful. And, always, I am aware of a sense of constancy and calm in its depths, no matter how its surface is interacting with the world.
This year, my mosaic project took me into an exploration of the elemental masculine and feminine archetypes. This formed a lovely extension to the deep delve into the Wise Mother/Crone with which I started the year.
For some time I had been intending to create a Green Man mosaic. Growing up in the West of England, the Green Man motif was often present. For a child who loved the woods and the wilds, it was an image that resonated.
There is also a ‘family connection’ so to speak. My maternal grandfather was a Wood. The Wood Coat of Arms is topped off with a Green-Man-derived ‘man of the woods’ crowned with oak leaves and bearing a club. This figure was the image used as crest both for family silver and for signet rings.
Just a note for clarity before I go any further. In referring to ‘God’ and ‘Goddess’, I am using these terms in the context of traditional symbolism and archetype. I am not suggesting that they are beings that I worship.
Exploring the elemental masculine and feminine
Before I start work on any mosaic there is always a phase of exploring ideas, images and concepts. I have always lived my life through symbol to some extent. So this becomes a process that involves intellectual ‘research’, exploring representations that relate to my theme, and soul-searching as to the meanings I am reaching for. I rarely know with absolute certainty where it will lead.
What was interesting this time was that it was soon clear to me that, if I was to create a Green Man, who was increasingly becoming a representation of masculine energy, I also had to create his feminine counterpart. As I worked, I also found that I wasn’t prepared to display either until both were finished. I have always been aware of the importance of balancing male and female traits and energies. In this work, that sense came through loud and clear.
Masculine ‘God’
Researching the Green Man, what came to me was the overlap with Sun God symbolism. I listed the following phrases as key to my understanding of the elemental energy that I wanted to tap into:
Shining God
Light bringer
Life force
Revealer of Mysteries
Source of wisdom
Guardian
Cycles of renewal
In creating my representation, I combined the Green Man with a Sun image. I tried to pick up Spring and Summer greens together with Autumn’s bronze and gold, honouring those ‘cycles of renewal’. I also wanted to access something both ‘ancient’ and ‘energetic’. There is even a hint of the ‘Horned God’.
Feminine ‘Goddess’
My Mother/Goddess image draws on classic Goddess symbolism. I have never, though, seen colour used this way. This form came to me during a group meditation. I had a strong sense of the way the Goddess connects to grounded, earth energy, deeply rooted. She has generative fire in her belly. But she also connects to Moon energy and to the ethereal. This connection is an incredibly powerful force.
As with the masculine image, I mapped out words and phrases that underpinned my conceptualization of the feminine:
Connection and relationship
Abundance
Fertility
Healing
Wisdom
Being
Spirit
Transformation
Nature
Distinct Energies
Working on these two pieces gave me an even deeper inner sense of the difference between these two energies. I believe all of us contain and have access to both. But I can see more clearly how these tend to play out in ‘male’ and ‘female’ behaviours and ways of being, which I hope increases my understanding of that ‘difference’. I definitely came away with a sense of the feminine as more grounded and connected, something we badly need.
That inner voice that insisted I could not create or display one without the other felt important. A world in which we truly integrate the elemental masculine and feminine would look so very different.
