Initiation is a sack of shit with a seed planted in it.
Think about all those times in your life when you have been initiated into the next chapter. Was it the wedding that was the initiation into marriage, or was it the first conflict or major life decision that arose on the other side of that ceremony where the rubber met the road? Was your initiation into parenthood when you found out you were pregnant? Was it giving birth? Or, was it when you came home from the hospital, or when all of the doulas left, and you were alone with each other and had to figure it out, by yourself? Was your initiation into adulthood when you landed that first job, or signed your first lease on an apartment? Or was it when you had to come up with rent money on your own, or show up to work even though you didn’t want to?
I would argue it is the latter. It is the pain that calls us forward. It is the acceptance of responsibility to something greater than ourselves that helps us grow. It is the act of showing up despite the discomfort that is the true initiation in life.
In our Western World, there are so few moments of initiation that are made consciously. So few opportunities to celebrate the transition with eyes wide open, support, and celebration. I believe that has the effect of feeling like these moments are just one trauma dump piled on after another, and without the conscious awareness, pieces of ourselves get trapped in the previous cycle—instead of allowing all of ourselves to move forward into the next phase.
I remember the process of buying this house of ours(it wasn’t so very long ago). Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that our family would be in a position to buy a home, much less one in the crazy competitive markets of the San Francisco Bay Area. But, here we were. I gave my husband no end of grief about where we were looking, and what I wanted in a home. I think we looked for about a year and a half, and that whole time I cried and cried about not wanting to settle in SF proper. I am fifth generation Berkeley, after all! San Francisco is the fast-paced, cold, unsavory side, and I just knew that if we bought over here, like my husband wanted to, that it would be the golden handcuffs I could never remove. It took me heading out to sit with the Choctaw in a Hamblechya ceremony where I fasted for days without food or water before I would realize that everything all the members of our family needed to thrive was everything we already had. I had to make that journey, much like Dorthy in The Wizard of Oz, to recognize that I was not the only one making this decision, or who would be impacted, and that I had it all in my own backyard.
What an incredible initiation!
And, it doesn't stop. From that moment of realization that I was not a powerless child along for the ride, but a grown woman who was also a wife and mother in a partnership and family unit, whose decisions had impact on not just me alone, but on the whole, the call forward grew. Yes, there is grief for the life that is no longer. There is grief for knowing that I am no longer making decisions based solely on what is good for ME, but there is also joy. I love being a partner to my husband. I love being a mother to my daughter. I love taking care of my kitties. And, I love this freaking house. Once I realized all of that, I found deep abiding peace. From all of that crap we went through to get here, many flowers have been allowed to bloom.
But, here’s the thing: a seed is only potential. One must nurture that seed if it is going to grow. The sack of shit might be your initiation, but what you do with that crap is up to you. Not every initiation leads to better things on the other side. Sometimes we fail to provide the seed with the proper nutrients and care it needs for this new life to thrive. It is always the case that the new version of life, the fledgling sprout, needs extra care and attention, otherwise it shrivels and dies. Sometimes, however, we just get poop on us and track it all over the house. Sometimes we are handed this pile of compost, but we fail to plant the seed, and it just stinks. It is my ever humble opinion that when we bring consciousness to our own initiation processes, we increase our chances of success for the new life that wants to spring forth from the muck.
Will you answer the call? Will you plant the seed in your sack of shit? The choice is yours.