What we do to one of us, we do to all of us. (Maybe?)
Kate Kelly, Kairos Level III participant, sent the film by Kate Novak to me this morning expressing, in deep recognition, “This … is the work”. My reply is a bow to her, saying with her “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
In the film Hysterical Girl Kate Novak
choreographed how the Holy Yes and Holy No of the oppressed, in this case women, are so oft perverted and locked up by desire, privilege, and power across time and space. It’s in the marrow of our collective bones, the breath and energy stores in the mitochondria of our cells, the narrow corridors of our nightmares.
This 13 minute, 24 second film confronts the collective shadow of our times, past and present, and redeems a piece of our collective Heart, our World, our Collective Breath. Medicine is released in the hearts of those who can hear in the present, past, and future.
What we do to or for one of us, we do to or for all of us. Maybe?
Kate tells her story, your story, our story….of being embalmed by the collective shadow to be placed on the wall or mantle as a trophy, a possession, a lifeless object (ie. statue) or perhaps fodder for a joke. (The image of the ancient Sumerian Goddess of Heaven, Inanna, hanging lifeless on the rack in the underworld comes to mind as does the Irish Selkie whose skin was stolen by the hunter claiming her as “his” to love or kill, whatever suits his fancy). This knowing lies in the depths of our hearts where “deep calls to deep” (Psalm 42.7), in the original fractal, the original Face. In this story the “enemy” lives within until our spiritual sickness is revealed.
I take in this film as the heartache that is the ultimate shofar blow, the ultimate offering of our tears at the altar, opening the gates to the divine will to enter and heal. “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ (Matthew 25:40).
Free will is the most misunderstood, underestimated, perverted, disavowed gift that renders our Holy Yes, No, and Maybe inaccessible, seemingly impotent against cutting oneself off from the lies we tell ourselves and each other that yolk us to slavery, to death itself.
What we do to or for one of us, we do to or for all of us. Said affirmatively, is this bearable? If not, maybe someday. Maybe.