ears to hear?

Angela of Foligno, a thirteenth/fourteenth century Italian and Franciscan mystic, is known for her embodied theology. She is know for her visions and mystical experiences, theology of incarnation and acts of solidarity. For my History of Christianity class I wrote a paper on one of her pieces and found this gem in an introduction to her work. 

"The perspective of cultural studies has more recently argued that women's oppressed social situation made them more likely to be drawn to radical forms of religious experience such as mysticism. In particular, a bodily expression of spirituality was in a sense to be expected given women's different relation to and closer association with their body and to the very concept of embodiment-- including, then, not only the negative, evil flesh [[which is where my mind went]], but also the redemptive body of Christ. For in the doctrine of the Incarnation, Christ's physical humanity, his flesh, was gendered as female: by dying, Christ's flesh metaphorically gave birth to new life, it provided spiritual food in the form of the eucharist, and it was thought to come entirely from his mother-- the only human parent of Jesus... The Incarnation informed the spirituality of medieval holy women as well as our own notion of what constitutes mysticism. The body was for medieval holy women, in the eloquent words of Andre Vauchez, 'a privileged instrument of communication.' Through exceptional phenomena such as stigmata, levitation, ecstasy, and visions, the body, and particularly the female body, could spell out what was otherwise ineffable and could not be grasped by words." (Cristina Mazzoni, Angela of Foligno: Memorial, 7.)

Thoughts that come to mind:

First: Jesus as gendered as female... positively!! 

Second: The fact that women's bodies were seen as possible sources of power for ineffable experiences of the Incarnation.

Third: That out of their oppression came these powerful experiences that men listened to and recognize as valid. 

......Where'd that all go? 

......What does that mean for us (women) today? 

......How do we speak the Truths of our bodies so loudly that they are heard? 

......I think story-telling is the answer. (More about this to come.)

On that note, I'm currently writing a poem about story-telling based on the quote by Muriel Rukeyser: "What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The whole world would split open." Story telling is, more often than not, an act of privilege. Most women around the world are silenced by their misogynistic society/ies and are therefore oppressed in ways that we cannot even imagine. (We even see that in some denominations today, don't we?) There have been brave women that have taken a risk and told their story, either by writing a book or by speaking out. For those of us living in functional (and I used that term lightly) misogynistic societies where women *sometimes* have a voice, I think women tell the truths of their lives all the time.  Are you willing to be a truth-teller about your life? Are you willing to tell your story so that you and others may be liberated by it? 

Please note, however, that this is not me putting the onus on women. What we need now are ears to hear. Heterosexual, affluent, white, male-identifying men (and then some) to hear our stories. Who were the ears to hear Angela of Foligno's story and where are they today?


I believe in the power of a story to fiercely transform lives. Be a part of this transformation, will you?

I'm so glad that you finally made it here

Why is it that as we grow older and stronger
The road signs point us adrift and make us afraid?
Saying: "You never can win," "Watch your back," "Where's your husband?"
Oh I don't like the signs that the signmakers made.

So I'm gonna steal out with my paint and my brushes
I'll change the directions, I'll hit every street
It's the Tinseltown scandal, the Robin Hood vandal
She goes out and steals the King's English
And in the morning you wake up and the signs point to you

They say:
"I'm so glad that you finally made it here,"
"You thought nobody cared, but I did, I could tell,"
And "This is your year," and "It always starts here,"
And oh-oh oh-oh-oh oh-oh, "You're aging well."

In Revolution from Within Gloria Steinem writes that during adolescence most girls become women who are less true to themselves, less confident in themselves, and love themselves less than in childhood.  (The opposite is true for most boys becoming men.)  That message resonates with me in a powerful and unsettling way.  When I think back to who I was as a child I certainly had more confidence and self-esteem than during most of the past... oh... ten years of my life.  Wow.  Ten.  Years.  My point is, the signs that the signmakers make are fucking lame.  Which I've known for the past ten years, but damn it is hard not to see the fucking lame signs everywhere, isn't it?  And when you see them everywhere, it's kind of hard not to follow them, isn't it?  I love what Dar says in this song and I love it especially because I feel I am just beginning to find my ability to actually re-write the signs.  God, I'm so glad I finally made it here, despite following many lame signs along the way, despite knowing I'll follow more lame signs in the future.  It feels good and comforting and hopeful to know I can write my own signs.  And find my own way.  And my own self.