“What does it mean to be willing?”
Being willing means a window is left open for suggestions, for change, for shifting. There is a softness and a flexibility in willingness. Being willing means that my heart is not an airtight ship–there is breathing space; there is motion. It means that I’m not burdened by certainty. Being willing means there is no final say. Nothing is set in stone. No hard and fast lines drawn across the sand. Willingness means infinite growth. It means asking questions and being teachable. It means an open palm instead of a shaking or ferociously squeezing fist. When I am willing, I am receptive to the Goddess inside me. Willing to go to any lengths means love–self-love. It means that I matter. It means that healing is my priority.
“What does it mean to be honest?”
Honesty equals authenticity. It means to come out of hiding. It is the practice of accepting myself as is and of loving myself unconditionally.It means being impeccable with my word, being courageous, being integrated rather than compartmentalized. Honesty equals respect–respecting myself and others. Honesty means thoroughness and depth, leaving no stone unturned. Honesty goes with Honor. Honesty means Foundation–that there is something solid to back this up. Dependable. Trustworthy. Commitment to the truth. Recognizing that there are many truths. Honest is like earnest, without artifice or affect. Honesty is beautiful and sometimes painful. Honesty means a sigh of relief! No games to play, no roles to fill. It means allowing the whole picture to come into view. Honesty leads to compassion. Honesty leads to solutions.
“How was your religious faith acquired?”
I have always, for as far back as I can remember, felt the presence of Spirit. In childhood, with screaming and yelling and bourbon and coldness and aloneness there was still and always this sweetness, always there, a sunbeam to fly away on. When my Aunt Mary led me to a God that had form and structure, I found a respite and something to cling to in my boundary-less home. Eventually, though, I grew too unruly, too womanish, too queerish for this small, buttoned-up, hard-edged god and when a book about the Goddess and the wisdom of the Trees fell into my hands, I was led bleeding and open to the Moon. And still She holds me, but loosely and lovingly.