Fandango asks us to use the word labyrinth.
A labyrinth is a complicated network of passages in which it is difficult to find ones way.
I first heard the word labyrinth when I was a member of the Methodist church. A path in a circle with stations to stop and read scripture verses and meditate. This did not sound like something I was interested in, and I actually felt wary of it. Then when I left the Christian church, the Unitarian Universalist church built a labyrinth out in the hill country on campground land. This was not scripture based, but was spiritual based. I never walked this one either. I’m not sure why I avoided them. Maybe I didn’t want to go deep into my feelings. Bottom line, labyrinths of this kind are not for me, right now, anyway!
So today I am combining FOUR prompts. Two are not from WordPress, however Fandango’s word today, ensconced, goes along with the theme for October’s 1st challenge of OctPoWriMo “shining your light,” and a one minute meditation (OMM) for women, “Our brightest transformations can come from our darkest experiences.” – Jennifer Westrom LPC. I am also submitting this for Colleen’s TankaTuesday #SpecificForm:Tanka.
Hard experiences can help a person grow and/or change. Hard experiences move one out of their ensconced belief, a belief of having the one and only truth, to finding out that there are other truths. It takes others to shine a light so that others can see even a glimpse of what is out there beyond their comfortable position.
The song goes, “this little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine.” I learned this in church, and it has become a song of resistance. I like to think of it as a song of resistance. And actually it was a song of resistance in our church – challenging us to shine a light on sin and stand up for justice.
I once was ensconced
in a religion of fear
someone shone a light
possibilities were seen
another journey began
others saw me turn
away from fear and sadness
no longer entrapped
lonely, yet censorship free
I was ready for new paths
my little flashlight
now shines to light paths ahead
torching the darkness
I am walking to the light
Just realized comments turned off…. now on….
Today I listened to a YouTube video and it reminded me of my poem (Thank you Susi.)
This is a poem I wrote about 6years ago. Repost from a blog posted back on 4/18/ 2018.
I now have the tag #ReligiousTraumaSyndrome or #RTS.
“When we are not sure, we are alive.”
Sitting in church gazing through the window
The sun beckons me to leave.
The preacher rages on.
I believed. I was trained. I was sure. I was dead.
The preacher’s sermons sound like a drum beating in my head:
Only whores dance, rock and roll is for drug addicts.
Thou shalt not have fun. The sun hid behind the clouds.
I was naive. I was trapped. I was scared. I was dead.
Out in the brazen sun, I tested the waters.
A small transistor, hidden under my pillow,
Melodies, lyrics of wanton acts spoke to me
I was listening. I was tempted. I was not sure. Was I dead?
I followed the path illumined by sunrays and jumped into the pool.
There was no life preserver, I struggled against the waves.
My head came above the surface. I heard cheers and jeers.
I was escaping. I was scared. I was rebellious. I was not dead.
I met a girl who danced and loved rock and roll.
She was neither a whore nor an addict.
She enjoyed the full sun. She was not trapped.
I believed. I was free. I struggled. I was alive.
by Ruth 1/28/2013