Anchorhold

Welcome to a space for the spirituality of gay and bisexual men. We have within ourselves the resources for our healing, liberation, and growth. Connecting with each other, we encounter the grace to lay hold of a richer, juicier life. Losing ourselves in deep play, we rediscover the bigger, freer, more joyous selves we're capable of becoming. Here I share my interest in personal and communal ritual, making art that expresses my inner life, and an intentional practice of erotic spirituality.

Thursday, June 25, 2020

Queer Eros and Social Justice: A Guest Post by James Lawer

James Lawer has generously shared this powerful reflection, along with his sculpture of which it's an explanation. I want to express how grateful I am to him, and how moved I am by what he's created.

The hanging has four basic areas. Starting from the right: the succession of cones represents my ancestors, all of them white folks. On some of the cones are languages I know they have spoken: Cornish, Plattdeutsh, French, Norse, Mongol and Slavic, Old English, Latin, and developments in the English language.

Hanging beneath the circle are slips of paper naming some instances of homophobia, racism and related violence (physical and emotional and spiritual) that I have experienced from others, from my family, from society, from church. In addition, I did as honest an appraisal as possible to ferret out instances where I myself was a perpetrator of such. These all hang together, in the form of spirit descending, but as they hopefully fall away.

In the center is a circle that represents where I figure I stand in history. All of my descendants, starting with my Black sons-in-law, are all Black. That includes all of my grandchildren and my great-grand daughter. I am, therefore, the last white grandfather of this line.

In addition, my name James Lawer is the last since the early 1700s. In the language of Game of Thrones, I am “James Lawer the Last of His Name.” With me and my daughters, that whole line of only-white ancestors ends. After this moment in time, the genetic line becomes mixed race, politically and racially (originally racist) identified as Black.

In addition, I am Queer, Other. We who are Queer walk between the dualities. We are the In-betweens, the Walk Besides, the Neither This nor That: We are Other. My Queerness is not a mistake: My whole line is charged and changed in my erotic nature.

This Other is the Pivot.

The Cosmic Erotic Multiverse is many universes of loves, wounds, traumas, beliefs, and within All is the Life Force Energy that is also constantly changing. So, with me and my daughters, everything changes.

So: I am (along with my daughters) the Pivot. From here on out, all of my descendants are Black. Not only do I not regret this: I also celebrate this shift.

My descendants are indicated by the single cone going outward to the left. On it is written “Your Black Lives Matter.” I say “Your,” because the whole Black Lives Matter movement is intensely personal to me. That’s my Family!!!

It is in the shape of a megaphone, because I want to stand at the Pivot point and address all of my descendants, telling them to be strong, to shine, to stand proud, to be as wise as you can, to create a new world of inclusion so that no one of you feels hammered by your existence, to know you also come from a long line of adventurers, explorers, folks who wanted a better life for themselves, who also struggled but who made it to this Pivot point, and to say to you: You are loved, blessed and wanted. I welcome you and hold you in my heart, even long after I have been forgotten. I love you.

Tuesday, June 2, 2020

The Face of Hypocrisy

Credit...Doug Mills/The New York Times

"The president used a Bible, the most sacred text of the Judeo-Christian tradition, and one of the churches of my diocese, as a backdrop for a message antithetical to the teachings of Jesus and everything our church stands for.

"It is appalling. The Bible is not an instrument of white supremacy or American nationalism. It is a universal text for all human beings.

"The president did not come to pray at St. Johns. He did not come to acknowledge the agony that our country is experiencing right now. He never mentioned the sacred worth of people of color in our nation who rightfully demand an end to hundreds of years of systemic racism and white supremacy."

Bishop Mariann E. Budde, bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington

Sacred Intimacy: Companionship in Spiritual and Erotic Healing

Different practitioners use the term "Sacred Intimacy" to mean different things. It's important to remember that Sacred Intimacy work is different from therapy, and can't replace therapy. I'm not a therapist. I don't claim to offer services in any officially regulated modality. (Some Sacred Intimates are also practicing therapists, but they're clear with themselves and with clients which modality they're working in.) Put simply, I offer heart-centered companionship and deep listening.

For me, first and foremost, Sacred Intimacy means that what passes between us is holy. It's filled and enlivened with the presence of the Divine. I will do my best to be as present to you, as available to you for your good, as I'm capable of being. My intention is to be open to working in whatever modality we agree will be helpful to you. A session begins with a short conversation in which you explain to me where you're at, and what you hope to take away from our time together.

The emphasis is on healing, growth, and the expansion of your life. You may, for example, have issues of erotic shame that you want to work on, or grief, or body image, or intimacy. I may ask for clarifications and make suggestions. Together we agree on the starting point for the experiential work that will follow.

A session might unfold through breathwork, guided meditation, bodywork, intentionally focused erotic interaction, creative movement, the shared creation of ritual, artistic practice, psychodynamic role playing, or some combination.

I can't hope to be of service to you unless I feel competent in the role I assume, and unless I have the sense that what we do has potential to help you move forward with your declared intention. So our initial conversation may involve some give and take around what's possible and what's useful.

It's essential for your integrity and mine that we maintain full confidentiality and respect one another's boundaries. We enter into sacred space together at the beginning of a session. We leave sacred space at the end, and what's happened within the safe container of the session remains distinct from any interactions we might have before or after the session. What happens in the session stays in the session.

Every Sacred Intimate has his own understanding of the nature of his work. Just below you'll find a series of links to the web pages of a number of Sacred Intimates working in various cities and areas.

Finding Yourself, Claiming Yourself

I invite you to celebrate who you are, and who you want to become.

Think of the times your life as a gay or bisexual man has flowed without effort.

Think of the times you’ve struggled to lay hold of your life more fully.

Maybe those times feel like opposites. But they’re parts of a single cycle: sowing and harvest, labor and rest, preparation and enjoyment. We can’t work toward a fuller life unless we already feel some trust that life will rise up to meet us. We can’t sink deeper into our present joy and satisfaction in life without being reminded that it took a long journey to get here.

Please join me in considering a place where the two halves of this cycle come together: in the safe, empowering container of ritual space and ritual time.

What's an Anchorhold?

For centuries in Europe, a handful of men and women took a vow to devote themselves to the cultivation of their inner lives and to make themselves radically available to their communities for spiritual counsel. Committing themselves to remaining in a single dwelling for the rest of their lives, they were known as anchorites; the houses in which they lived were their anchorholds. Those who needed what the official channels of the religious establishment couldn’t provide came to the anchorhold for conversation and support.

Neither priests nor monks, the spiritual practice of anchorites and their interaction with those who came to them fell outside formal control of the Church. As a result, religious authorities often viewed them with suspicion. One of the best known of these dropouts from ordinary social and religious norms was Julian of Norwich, a woman who had a near-death experience in 1373 and spent the rest of her life thinking about what it meant, for herself and for the world at large. The book she wrote about her revelation, the first in English that we know for sure was written in by a woman, is an astonishingly daring and original rethinking of Christian theology: a vision of a God in whom there is no wrath, who is both Father and Mother of Creation, and who will somehow, by a miracle beyond our ability to grasp, eventually effect the salvation of every living being.

Men and women of spirit who fell between the cracks, anchorites practiced what in its own way was a profoundly queer inner life, following the instincts of their own experience, flying under the radar of the powers that claimed to control access to the Divine.