Wednesday, August 25, 2010

What happened when I went to a mosque

At the time I visited a mosque, I was a curious college student majoring in cultural anthropology and cross-cultural communications. The study of world religions was a particular love, even obsession, of mine. During a class on said topic, I was required to take a personal field trip to a place of worship outside of my religion. I selected a mosque for my assignment, and since I had many international student friends from around the world, I asked a few of the Muslim Arabs I knew about visiting their mosque in the Northgate neighborhood of Seattle. One friend from UAE told me where I could purchase a head scarf (or hijab) —which I bought in basic black—and then he said he’d meet me on Friday evening right before services to introduce me into the mosque.

The next Friday, he did as promised and I was ushered up the stairs to the women and children’s section above and partitioned away from the main prayer room by glass. In the church I grew up in, such a room was called the “cry room.” It was provided for the parents of restless youngsters so the cries of their little ones would not disturb those in the sanctuary and yet the parents wouldn’t miss out on the main service as it was broadcast through the sound system into the cry room.

As soon as I emerged at the top of the stairs, I was greeted with warm welcomes, hugs, and cheek-to-cheek double kisses from many if not most of the women there. Few spoke English but their hospitality I remember vividly to this day, some twenty-five years later. They had absolutely no reservations inviting a white-skinned woman from another religion into their midst. None. I wonder how many churches would be so welcoming with the situation in reverse?

As I observed the prayer service for the men through the glass, I noticed that only a couple of women in the “cry room” were following along with the prayers and prostrations. They seemed to be older women, perhaps beyond the years of mothering youngsters, who therefore had some time and freedom to devote to worship and spiritual practice. (On the other side of mothering young children myself, I know how hard it is to devote oneself to one’s spirituality, when diapers, feedings, tantrums, and general lack of sleep intrude.) Otherwise, the room full of Muslim women and children was joyous, with lots of quiet laughter, playtime, and community-making going on between the children and moms.

At one point toward the end of the service, my black scarf, having not secured it very well, began to slip off the top of my head, revealing some of my hair. I kept pulling it all the way forward of my bangs, not wanting to offend them in their place of reverence.

However, after several futile attempts at keeping it up, one of the older women decided to help out. She came over and rather than helping me pull it up or retie it, she simply pulled it down all the way and said, “There.” The rest of the women gasped and came forward, admiring my golden blonde hair, touching it, commenting on it—clearly not offended in the least.

Soon after this event I would spend a summer in the Middle East with Muslim Arabs. Again and again I was treated with ultimate respect and generous hospitality in every house I entered, even though I came from America.

If you have never been friends with a Muslim or an Arab or have never attended a mosque, I would encourage you to do so. Fear of the “other,” the “stranger”, the unknown is what fuels the fire of assigning blame to whole people groups and entire religions for the actions of a few extremists.

Love thy neighbor as thyself. Muslims taught me what this looks like.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

A Great Undoing


This is the time of a Great Undoing. And this scares many people to their core, so much so that denial, adamant pushing ahead, forcing things to be as they've always been, pushing to do things as they've always been done, can produce crazed, anxious patterns that end up crashing and burning in the end. Understanding that times of Great Undoings are necessary and beneficial can go a long way to helping you ease through tough times with grace and peace. Collectively, we have gotten ourselves into many knotted up patterns that are not sustainable for the human family as well as the plant and animal families, let alone all of the other interdependent eco-systems on earth. We know this. We KNOW this, yes? But what do we do with the seemingly insurmountable number of things that need to be fixed in order to be sustainable and functional?

I've found that understanding how to heal huge systemic problems is much easier when there is a simple metaphor that can be used to grasp the nuance, the symbolic message, from the macro to the micro. So here's one for you: What do you do when you find your favorite shoes have somehow sprouted large entangled knots in their shoelaces seemingly overnight? If your shoes are going to continue to be functional to you, you are going to have to do the work of a Great Undoing. Of course, you can sit and ask forever "How did this happen?" "How did all of these problems/knots come to be?" Asking this may be useful for the future in order to prevent future Big Knots, but sitting and fretting just uses up time you could be using to start the Great Undoing. You may be tempted to just cut the laces off and buy new ones. But we can't really do that with humanity and planet earth. Throw it away and start over? Nope, not an option. We are here. The planet is here. Denying the Big Knots isn't going to work.

For the present time and the present situation, the only thing that's going to work is simply doing the work of untying the knots. Untying Big Knots can be slow going, frustrating work. I've found that it takes a lot of patience and focus. Tracking each curve of lace through every twist and turn and gradually untangling the stuckness. Being the expert knot-untier of the family, which probably goes with being "the mom", I've also found that once I've worked on a knot for a certain period of time, all-at-once the knot completely untangles the rest of the way easily and effortlessly. It's like the knot simply "dissolves."

This is the potential benefit of a Great Undoing. By tracking where and how our own energy is knotted up and begin the untying process, we can free up an amazing amount of energy that allows us to be in greater alignment with the Flow of Love-purpose in the divine unfolding of the universe. The greatest benefit to the Universe is for you to look within (first) and see where there is stuckness and begin to untangle, dissolve, and free your energy in that area. Then you will see clearly and passionately where you can be an instrument of divine benefit to healing the world.

The steps?
1. Set your intention to find where you are knotted (blocked) in your own life so that you can set yourself free.
2. Focus your attention on the knots/blocks looking at it from all sorts of angles, to find the source or core of it. It is usually a fear-based emotion attached to a limiting belief.
3. Affirm and feel your loving compassion for yourself in this area.
4. Take a tiny step of action to demonstrate your new unlimited belief and unfettered love about yourself and the world.

When we heal ourselves, we automatically help to heal the world. If you have any questions, have any comments, or want more info, let me know!

To schedule a healing session or speaking event with Monica call her at 206-306-1144, email her at monica@monicamcdowell.com or for more information, check out her website at www.monicamcdowell.com

Copyright © 2010 by Monica McDowell, MDiv. All Rights Reserved. This entry may be linked, forwarded, or copied in its entirety as long as this paragraph is included and there is no profit gained by doing so. Monica is an energy healer, speaker, spiritual teacher, and author. Her second book, You are Light, will be released by O-Books in Feb. 2011. Monica¹s first book, My Karma Ran Over My Dogma: Lessons Learned by a Whistle-Blowing Minister Turned Mystic, is available on her website, on Amazon.com or in Seattle's independent bookstores. She has the distinction of being the first ordained minister in the United States ever granted civil rights in a federal ruling.