Ever hear of Bluma Zeiganick? Yea, I hadn’t either until a few months ago. Bluma Zeiganick was one of the first women in Russia to go to a University. Upon graduating she became one of the first female psychologists in the world. Our dear Bluma discovered the Zeiganick Effect which links memory to incomplete tasks (and she had the audacity to name it after herself!) Basically, your brain remembers uncompleted or interrupted tasks, going back to them again and again. You haven’t finished the laundry, you’re about to fly across the country, and so it stays on your mind all day. Conversely, once you cross an item off your list you’re less likely to remember having done that task. Perhaps this answers why so few of us can remember what we did the other day, but we can remember what we still need to do.
My dance of faith and feminism began when my mother-in-law suggested I read Sue Monk Kidd’s Dance of the Dissident Daughter. This book ripped my heart wide open and threw a freaking hand grenade in. My faith and my identity blew up. Everything I was so sure of was ripped from me. I was left with fragmented pieces of faith, sorting through what I wanted to keep and lighting on fire that which I no longer needed. At times, I longed for the security of ignorance.
This story is forcing me to be even more vulnerable and open. But here it goes. I have a deep and constant fear that something or everything will go wrong. Whenever life seems too good- just wait, because something bad will happen and mess it all up.
God is a man.
You’re causing men to stumble.
Women can’t/shouldn’t be pastors.
You’re not enough for your family.
The man is the head of the household.
You’re too emotional.
Whether we learn it in church, from our family, or in all the subtleties of society, we have our limiting beliefs about ourselves that repeat and repeat. They are personally tailored to hold us back. So much of what I want to do with this blog is Re-Image these inane platitudes in religion and faith practice. Along the way I have found that these defeatists thoughts extend beyond religion into our psychology as well. This post is a bit of personal growth and spiritual work as a result.
I participated in my first true act of patriotism on November 12, 2016. I marched through the streets of downtown Los Angeles, from MacArthur Park to the Federal Building. I marched with 8,000 other women and men. I attended the march on my own–I didn’t go with a group of friends, I didn’t meet anyone there, I didn’t bring my husband along. Months before I flew to DC for The Women’s March, I knew that this was something I needed to do on my own. It was and is a solemn exercise for me, a private act of public defiance
I’ve been in church for as long as I can remember. Sunday School, Missionettes, youth group, summer camp, bible study, and even tent revivals (if you are unfamiliar with tent revivals it is exactly what you are picturing in your head)- I’ve been to it all. I grew up in a small evangelical church, in a small town where women raised small kids while their husbands worked in the larger (but still pretty small) city. A minivans and bake sales kind of town.
And for the most part, I liked being a part of that community. I have beautiful memories of my home.I can look back and say that I loved my church, loved my community. Loved the people there, loved the pastor.