Years ago, I got caught up in the doctrine of “do not handle, do not taste, do not touch” (which Paul warns against in Colossians 2:21 and I wrote more about HERE.) Several things have contributed to my slow emergence from this bondage and one, in particular, is a book called Dance of the Dissonant Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd. In this book, Kidd references the myth of Theseus (and, more importantly, Ariadne) and the Minotaur, making parallels between this myth and the system of patriarchy within our culture and the Christian church. She speaks of the minotaur at the center of the labyrinth as the “inner critic,” the “bullish, bullying, bulldozing force of patriarchy internalized in the cellar of a woman’s psyche.” Although I don’t agree with everything she has to say, I could relate to this metaphor of the minotaur as an inner critic.
Since then, the maze of the minotaur has become symbolic to me, a representation of my determination to overcome the inner critic, to break free from the sometimes overwhelming urge to ask permission and explain myself, and the often paralyzing desire to meet the expectations of others, especially men and members of the church.
This commitment to escaping the maze (so to speak) has led me to openly embrace concepts and practices I was taught in my youth to avoid. Elements of eastern meditation, Native American spirituality, Christian mysticism, and ayurveda, to name a few. The results of this have been interesting, to say the least. I feel I’m communicating with God (specifically Holy Spirit) on a level I never have before – or rather she is communicating with me in a way she never has before (most likely because my self-imposed rules have prevented me from hearing.) Through these communications, she has made it abundantly clear that she loves me, that she wants the best for me (and – what’s more – she’ll help me to obtain it,) and that she’s a friend.
A friend with an awesome sense of humor.
Not long ago, I went out to lunch at a Chinese restaurant with my oldest daughter. At the end of our meal, I cracked open my cookie to read a fortune for the first time in over 15 years – something I haven’t done since learning from a christian author that reading fortunes from cookies was sinful (no, I’m not joking and yes, I really believed that, which is embarrassing to admit.) This is what it said: