My post on May 23rd 2011 titled “Invoking Consent” raised some good issues and led to some insightful conversations, both here, and on a number of other blogs and journals throughout the web. Taking the feedback I have received into consideration, I have made a number of changes to the initial piece. Some things were clarified, others removed, and a decent chunk of new material included. Rather than simply editing the original essay, I have chosen to post post the changes as “Invoking Consent 2.0”

Invoking Consent 2.0

The pagan demographic has a consent problem.

There are no other circles I travel in where invasive, non-consensual interactions between people is not only rampant, but a cultural hallmark. Ours is a spiritual community where it is accepted practice to force intimate contact on another person. The fact that this can be emotionally and physically harmful is dismissed when it is raised, which is rarely.

I have been a victim of this practice, as has my spouse. So too have one of my past and one of my current lovers. Friends, clients, and strangers have their own tales of harm caused by the warped standards of consent and boundaries found in pagan individuals, gatherings, and circles.

What I am talking about here is being the target of energy work and magic that is routinely forced on people without discussion or consent. The people who engage in this behavior often defend the practice with assertions of good intent, as if their intentions alone excuses the violation of another individual’s being.

There are a great many people in the world who would consider this a non-issue. People who would say “I don’t believe in all that woo-woo stuff.” What I would ask to the people who engage in these practices without proper consent is: do you believe what you are doing?

We cannot have it both ways. If our Work can help and heal, then it can also harm. Without water, life could not exist on our planet, but trying telling people in Northern Japan or the banks of the Mississippi River that water can do no harm because it is good. As a shaman, magician and healer, I would never dismiss the benefits of energy and healing magic. However, while insulin injections can be vital to staying alive for a diabetic, walking up to a friend and plunging a syringe of it into their side would be dangerous, and undeniably constitute assault. In my mind, that is little different than what happens when an energy worker or magical healer walks up to someone and starts working on them without discussion.

When a massage therapist decided to do energy work during a session to “cure” my shamanism, that was a violation.

When an acquaintance pushed Reiki into my chest during a friendly hug, that was a violation.

When I was waiting on a cancer diagnosis that fortunately never came, the barrage unsolicited “healing energy” sent by strangers and Facebook friends was a violation.

When an energy healer decided to “fix” a transgender client of a colleague of mine, that was a horrific violation.

When non-consensual energy work is done on anyone with the capacity to consent, that is a violation.

The ends do not justify the means.

I have theories about the origin of some of these behaviors and their place in the pagan community.

It is tempting to believe that the people committing these violations have not fully committed to the idea of energy and magic, and hence, do not accept the idea that it could cause harm. Over time I have come to believe that this is the case for some people, but I do not think it applies to the majority. Similarly, there are people who cannot believe themselves or their energy modality to be capable of causing distress. If it is inconceivable that one’s actions could have negative consequences, it becomes easy to rationalize violating another person “for their own good.”

This perspective is actually reinforced in more than one energy healing modality. I have spoken to a number of practitioners who steadfastly assert that their healing methods cannot have negative results. My own practices are eclectic, and it is in the nature of the Vreschtik to stand somewhat outside of community, which has put us in a position to view many different practices from a relatively objective perspective. I have witnessed, and personally experienced, that these modalities are capable of causing harm, a fact which their practitioners insist I, and everyone else who would make this argument, must be in error about.

What I find unacceptable is the theory that the pagan demographic does not have not have strong cultural contexts of consent. From feminist roots to BDSM spirituality, there are innumerable threads, histories, and traditions in paganism that place a high or paramount emphasis on consent. Granted there are those like Konstantinos, who have publicly argued the value of non-consensual magic. I believe however, that those voices are drowned out by a chorus of disagreement.

What then, can be done to change this destructive pattern within pagan society? The first thing that must happen, is for the culture in many segments of the pagan demographic to shift, such that rejecting offered energy is not seen as an insult or slight. I believe that many people force energy onto others because they fear having their offer rejected, and the stigma being reject can carry in pagan culture.

People also need to feel supported by their community in such a way that they can call out someone who engages in energetic violation, regardless of intent. I am a skilled magician, a shaman, and well respected in the pagan community. Yet when my right to be free from violation was recently transgressed, I did not feel I would be supported in saying anything to the transgressor. When I discussed the issue with a prominent member of that person’s community, I was told essentially “that’s just who they are.” If I was not comfortable engaging in the moment, and my concerns were later brushed aside, what hope does someone without my position in the community have of being able to speak up and be heard.

We need to stop drawing emotional distinctions between the physical body and the energy body. It is my fervent belief that the majority of people who frequently violate another’s energy body, would never do the same to their physical self. At the same time, we also need to establish that consent to physical contact does not inherently equal consent to energetic or magical contact. In my own mind, my willingness to hug someone does not give them permission to work magic on me during said hug, yet I suspect that to them it did.

As a fellow member of my Clan pointed out recently, pagan rhetoric and teaching is full of language of “connection,” yet rarely addresses issues of boundaries and when “connecting” is a terrible idea. In his words “Sometimes the trees really just need their space thank you very much.” His fundamental point was that we cannot expect people who are told from the beginning of their journey into this wold to “open” themselves and energetically connect to nature, the gods, and each other, to know how and when to draw appropriate boundaries.

Another point that has been raised recently in discussions over this issue is one of confronting the spiritual and mental baggage of people’s milk religions. Although this is slowly changing, we are fundamental a demographic made up of converts. Several friends and colleagues have pointed out that “sending energy” without discussion or consent has become the pagan version of “I’ll pray for you.” There is a hesitancy in the pagan demographic towards prayer, likely because of associations with one’s childhood experiences. The problem with “sending healing energy” is that while for some this has become cultural code for something nearly indistinguishable from prayer, for others it can mean working focused energy or magic that may not be appropriate or welcome.

Finally, we need to be willing to use language to provide context. Doubtless there are going to be those who read this piece and take umbrage at the use of the word “violation.” However, that is the sentiment all too often expressed by people who have had energy work or magic inflicted on them without consent. If that perspective makes you uncomfortable, it may be time to take a hard look at yourself and your practices.

Perhaps you see yourself reflected in this discussion. To you I say this: there is such a thing as benevolent harm. One does not need ill will to cause injury, or to violate another person’s rights. That you engage in these problematic practices does not mean that you are a bad person, or even a bad healer. However, it is harmful to take away another person’s ability to consent, even if the energy/magic you provide does them good.

I will not deny that there are rare circumstances where one of us may be called upon in an emergency that does not have time or room for consent. In those situations I would encourage our healers to follow similar standards of care to those of an emergency trauma ward. Seek consent from the subject if at all possible, from someone who is empowered to give consent if they are fully incapacitated, and failing the availability of all of those, do the minimum possible to get them into a place to give consent.

I would never argue that the pagan demographic should abandon the healing traditions that form a vital part of our identity. I have faith that we can adapt our practices so that we treat each other with dignity and respect, rather than force and disregard.

Although Notes From A Barking Shaman doesn’t update on a set schedule, it is right about time for a new essay to be be posted. It’s been a good run the last few weeks, and I hate to interrupt that. However, I feel a statement on some recent events regarding my involvement as an educator in the kink community is warranted, and for the moment supersedes the regular essay. An actual new NFABS post will be up in the next two or three days.

Wintersong Tashlin

May 31 2011

 

Interruption: A Brief Note on Politics and Presenting

As a general practice, I prefer not to air my dirty laundry in a public forum, particularly that of the interwebs. Unfortunately, circumstances have developed such that said dirty laundry has already been aired in public once. Because it was done so in a manner that did not allow for my perspective to be heard, I have chosen to issue, not a denial, but rather an explanation and perhaps a bit of mea culpa:

In my inexperience and, in a sense, arrogance, I recently became involved in a battle over marketshare within the Kink/BDSM community and made a real mess of things.

Camp Crucible, an event that I have heard very good things about, approached me to teach for them at their 2011 event at Ramblewood in Darlington MD. My initial response was to say “thanks but no thanks” because this event historically has not comped their presenters attendance/travel or offered them teaching fees. However, I reconsidered when Crucible offered to deviate from this tradition and comp my attendance and travel. As is my general practice, I sent them my complete class list (as of that time, I’m constantly adding and deleting offerings). When they chose a listing made up entirely of magical/spiritual classes with some sexuality/kink crossover, I foolishly did not think anything of it. After all, I arrogantly thought, they are comping me because of how awesome I am, and that’s my speciality.

Over the following weeks and months however, as I learned more about Camp Crucible I became both concerned and confused. Not only is Crucible known as an event where classes are not widely attended, it has not historically had any emphasis on spirituality. I am, of course, all for enhancing the spiritual content of events in the kink community. However as more and more current and former attendees (all of whom spoke highly about the enjoyability of the event) expressed deep puzzlement over the choice to add a spirituality tract, I became concerned.

I spoke at some length with their director of programing, who could offer no concrete reassurances as to attendance or explain the decision the event had made with my class list. Even established BDSM/spirituality cross-over events take a more diverse selection of my classes than they had. I was told that this was all an experiment and that hopefully in time, as the event gained a reputation for offering this kind of programing, it would attract people who wanted it.

It was only a few weeks ago it was made clear to me that the picture was bigger than what I was looking at. The BDSM/spirituality cross-over event market is highly saturated in this region of the United States, a point that I had made to the Camp Crucible folks. I have a strong and long established relationship with several other events in this market. So caught up was I in being concerned about whether my classes could succeed at Crucible, I never thought about the consequences of success.

A tense conversation with a colleague made me realize that in teaching spirituality programing at Camp Crucible, I was materially harming other events and organizations that had nurtured my work for years.

Now, I will be the first to say that I should have figured that out on my own. I had been warned by presenters and titleholders in the BDSM community that a huge part of being successful in the Scene is the ability to navigate the rocky shoals of kinky politics. Instead, Crucible stroked my ego and made me an offer that I knew to be against their typical policies, and like a virgin being led by his cock, I committed to teach for them, even though something didn’t feel right about it.

Before the conversation with my colleague, I was already concerned about teaching spirituality classes at Camp Crucible. I worried that eight days of largely empty classes, trying to run spirituality and magic classes at an event to which they’re alien, would be emotionally draining. Add to that the ethical and professional consequences of screwing over events that have treated me well over the years and actually pay me a teaching fee, and I saw no choice but to withdraw from presenting at Camp Crucible.

My teaching career was likely fucked the moment I accepted Camp Crucible’s offer. Had I stuck to my agreement with them, I would now have a reputation for screwing friends and allies, and would likely not have been renewed at several loyal events. Instead, I now have a reputation for being unreliable and not sticking to my agreements. Not good in a world where your name is all you have. In the forty-eight hours since the Camp Crucible director announced at dinner that I didn’t feel his event was worth my time (which was clearly not my motivation), I have been informed by a number of northeast events and organizations, including one the largest, that I should not bother submitting classes to them in the future.

Perhaps in six months time, after I could have made serious inroads into the markets outside of the Northeast Corridor, this could be survivable. I suspect that where I am now, it is not.

I will own up to the fact that I fucked this one up Royally. If I had gone with my instincts and backed out of the event much earlier, but without a complete understanding of why I was uneasy, I could have saved everyone a lot of trouble. That was wrong of me. Not as wrong as accepting in the first place of course. One thing I learned when I ran my own design firm, and which applies to any contracting/self employment scenario is this: Learn fast or fall hard.

I didn’t learn fast enough, and I am deeply sorry if my inexperience led to disappointment for any of Crucible’s attendees.

 

 

Editor’s Note: On June 3rd I posted a revised and updated version of this essay titled “Invoking Consent 2.0” I’d strongly encourage you to read and link to the newer version rather than this essay.

The pagan demographic has a consent problem.

There are no other circles I travel in where invasive, non-consensual interactions between people is not only rampant, but celebrated. Ours is a spiritual community where it is accepted practice to force intimate contact on another person, and the fact that this can be terribly emotionally and physically harmful is dismissed whenever it is raised.

I have been a victim of this practice. My spouse has likewise suffered. So too have one of my past and one of my current lovers. Friends, clients, and strangers have their own tales of harm caused by the warped standards of consent and boundaries found in pagan individuals, gatherings, and circles.

I am talking about being the target of energy work and magic, which is routinely forced on people without discussion or consent. The people who engage in this behavior often defend the practice with assertions of good intent. As if their intentions alone can atone for violating another individual’s being, all too often causing harm in the process.

There are going to be those of you reading this essay who say “I don’t believe in all that woo-woo shit” and that is perfectly fine with me. Notes From a Barking Shaman covers a wide variety of topics, and they can’t all appeal to everyone. However, there are many of you who practice some form of magic or energy work/healing, and to you I ask: do you believe in all this woo-woo shit?

We do not get to have it both ways. If our Work can help and heal, then it can also harm. Without water, life could not exist on our planet, but trying telling people in Northern Japan or the banks of the Mississippi River that water can do no harm because it is good. As a shaman, magician and healer, I would never dismiss the good that energy work can do. However, while insulin injections can be vital to staying alive for a diabetic, walking up to a friend and plunging a syringe full into their side would be dangerous, and undeniably constitute assault. When one decides to push Reiki or other forms of energy into another person without their conscious consent, that is exactly what is happening.

When a massage therapist decided to do energy work during a session to “cure” my shamanism, that was a violation.

It took weeks to repair the damage done.

When an acquaintance pushed Reiki into my chest during a friendly hug, that was a violation.

The energetic modifications made by my Lady cause an adverse reaction to that form of energy. I was made ill enough to require the skills of a healer familiar with the quirks of my energy system.

When I was waiting on a cancer diagnosis that fortunately never came, the unsolicited “healing energy” sent by strangers and Facebook friends was a violation.

It is widely known that general “healing” energy can make cancer worse. Energy healing of cancer is a specialized skill that few possess.

When an energy healer decided to “fix” a transgender client of a colleague of mine, that was a horrific violation.

One which nearly led to suicide and took the resources of a shaman skilled with the spiritual and energetic nature of gender to repair.

When non-consensual energy work is done on anyone with the capacity to consent, that is a violation.

The ends do not justify the means.

I wish I had a cogent explanation for this behavior and its place in the pagan community. It is tempting to choose to believe that the people committing these violations have not fully committed to the idea of energy and magic. Hence they do not accept the idea that it could cause harm. Perhaps this is the case for some people, but I do not believe that it is for the majority. Similarly, there are people who cannot believe themselves or their energy modality to be capable of causing harm. If it is inconceivable that one’s actions could have negative consequences, it becomes easier to rationalize violating another person as “for their own good.”

What I find unacceptable is the theory that the pagan demographic does not have not have strong cultural contexts of consent. From feminist roots to BDSM spirituality, there are innumerable threads, histories, and traditions in paganism that place a high or paramount emphasis on consent. Granted there are those like Konstantinos, who have publicly argued the value of non-consensual magic. I believe however, that those voices are drowned out by a chorus of disagreement.

What then, can be done to change this destructive pattern within pagan society? The first thing that must happen, is for the culture in many segments of the pagan demographic to shift, such that rejecting offered energy is not seen as an insult or slight. I believe that many people force energy onto others because they fear having their offer rejected, which can carry a stigma in pagan culture.

People also need to feel supported by their community in such a way that they can call out someone who engages in energetic violation, regardless of intent. I am a skilled magician, a shaman, and well respected in the pagan community. Yet when my right to be free from violation was transgressed, I did not feel I would be supported in saying anything to the transgressor. When I discussed the issue with a prominent member of that person’s community, I was told essentially “that’s just who they are.” If I was not comfortable engaging in the moment, and my concerns were later brushed aside, what hope does someone without my position in the community have of being able to speak up and be heard.

We need to stop drawing emotional distinctions between the physical body and the energy body. It is my fervent belief that the majority of people who frequently violate another’s energy body, would never do the same to their physical self.

Finally, we need to be willing to use language to provide context. Doubtless there are going to be people who read this piece who take umbrage at the use of the word “violation.” However, that is the word and sentiment all too often expressed by people who have had energy work or magic inflicted on them without consent. If that makes you uncomfortable, take a long look at yourself and your practices.

Perhaps you do not believe in all this energy/magic/woo stuff, in which case I thank you for reading through this essay, despite conflicts with your own worldview.

On the other hand, perhaps you see yourself and your own energetic and magical practices reflected here, and don’t like what you see. To you I say this: there is such a thing as benevolent harm. One does not need ill will to cause injury, or to violate another person’s rights. I do not believe you are a bad person, or even a bad healer. But it is harmful to take away another person’s ability to consent, even if the energy/magic you provide does them good.

I would never argue that the pagan demographic should abandon the healing traditions that form a vital part of our identity. I have faith that we can adapt our practices so that we treat each other with dignity and respect, rather than force.

I have been sitting in front of my blank computer screen for a solid ten minutes now trying to figure out exactly how to being this post. No matter how hard I reach for greater eloquence or depth, I keep coming back to a single sentence. Maybe it’s the late hour, maybe it’s the complex nature of the subject, or maybe it is OK for one or two things in one’s life to be straightforward. In the interest of having a post today, let’s go with #3 for the moment:

Being polyamorous is pretty damn awesome.

Now for the requisite disclaimers:

As with every other post in the five year history of Notes From a Barking Shaman, I am only speaking for myself and from my own experience. I am not going to say that being poly is always awesome, but then nothing is always awesome. Nor am I going to say that polyamory is inherently better than monogamy. It is undoubtably better for me, but if my experience of the world was representative we would be living in a very different place than we do. And finally, yes I am well aware that many of you/your mom, BFF, hairdresser, dentist, etc have tried poly and had it go badly. To that issue I will simply say this: if everyone gave up on a relationship dynamic after having one or two bad experiences not only would no one be in monogamous relationships either, I doubt we would even be a nation of lonely masturbators.

Disclaimers done with for now, I’d like to talk about why being poly is, for me, pretty damn awesome.

First of course, I need to elaborate on what “polyamory” looks like for me. There are probably as many different ways to be poly as there are poly people in out there, and to be fair, my own way of being poly has changed over the years.

I have a husband. As long time readers of mine know, I used to have two of them, and hopefully will someday again. What “husband” in this case means is that we live together and share just about every aspect of our lives with each other. My husband Fire and I have been together for about twelve years now, and intended to be in a multi-partner marriage from the very start. About two and half years into our relationship we entered into a relationship with Evan (referred to earlier in NFABS as “Summer”) and after eight years he divorced us (legally in my case, as we were married in our home state). As the three of us before did, Fire and I share a house, bills, the care and feeding of an adorable dog, and other joys and duties found in traditionally “married” relationships. Even when there were three of us, it was remarkably “normal” by many of the yardsticks by which marriages are measured.

However, outside of our marriage, Fire and I have other intimate relationships that can take many forms. I have a boyfriend I am crazy about, although he lives far away. There are a number of people I care about and in some cases love deeply who I sometimes I play/have sex with. Right now there’s also a relationship with another guy in my life that I’m letting evolve where it will. Finally, there are a number of people I see regularly in my travels who I scene with at events.

If that sounds complicated, it is because it is. Whenever people tell me that I’m poly because it is “easier” than monogamy I have to laugh. Friends of mine who are in a four person polyamorous marriage AND have a new baby, have to balance their schedules as carefully as generals plan amphibious invasions involving multiple chains of command. Ensuring that people don’t end up feeling neglected or on the reverse, like they never have time to themselves, is perpetually challenging in polyamory. Keeping lines of communication flowing between two people can be a task, doing it with a husband, a boyfriend or two, and several lovers can feel downright Sisyphean at times.

But then, at the same time it’s damn awesome when things click together right.

A few weeks ago I attended my boyfriend’s wedding. If this was a Hollywood film, that sentence would probably be filled with depressive angst about watching the man I love marry someone else. Visions of a single tear escaping my eye and dropping unnoticed onto my tightly clasped hands as I struggle to hide our secret love would be played out in close up technicolor. What probably wouldn’t leap to mind is me walking him proudly down the aisle and handing him off to his radiant bride while her father stood teary eyed beside her.

And yet, that was the reality of my experience.

I know that this puzzles the hell out of my mother, who although she struggled at first, has been remarkably resilient in the face of yet another “alternative lifestyle” from her somewhat atypical son. Fire and Evan were both welcome at family gatherings and introduced to family and friends as my partners. And I think that with exposure she has come to accept that, while she will probably never understand polyamory any more than I get monogamy, the extended network of partners I have brings me the happiness that her single partner brings her.

No one person in my life meets all my emotional or physical needs. In the monogamous world people talk all the time about what they’ve given up in exchange for their relationship. In the poly world, we more often talk about what we are looking for or have found. Especially those of us who are both kinky and poly, who have opportunities to explore more aspects of desire and relationship than we could reasonably expect any one person to indulge or enjoy.

But polyamory doesn’t mean “much sex” it means “many loves.” Or at least that’s what they were trying to say when the linguistic chimera was created. For some folk being poly and/or open in their relationships is primarily about sex, and there is nothing wrong with that. For me though, polyamory is at its best when I have “many loves.”

I love many people, some of them I am “involved” with, others are people who go far beyond being close friends, but are not folks I have a romantic or physical relationship with. I am not someone who loves or trusts easily by nature, but I live my life in a way devoted to sharing love with many people. My heart is directed outwards, not locked in a box that only one other person has the key to. I approach everyone I meet in life with the awareness that this could turn out to be someone I could love freely and I am free to be loved in return. It may seem counter intuitive or even tautological, but loving many has made me able to love many.

Before this gets too sappy sounding, let me just point out that the sex is no bad thing either.

Polyamorous people, especially queer ones, are bogeymen at the moment. Every time the anti-gay right brings us out as part of the “slippery slope” argument against same-sex-marriage, the representatives from Gay Inc are quick to take offense and clarify that LGBT are just as against that sort of thing as they are. I understand the political calculations perfectly well, but I have to say that I am growing tired of my family being demonized from both sides. Intellectually, I understand why this is, but I think it is important for us to make our voices hear once in a while. Not to demand legal recognition or a place at the table, but simply to say “this is how we love, and you know what, it’s pretty damn awesome, so maybe lay off a little.”

I’ve added a new class to my Queer/LGBT offerings:

“Out in the World”

For some of us, high school and/or college can be a wonderful time of self-discovery and community. For others it is a trial to be endured, the reward of which we are assured, is the freedom to embrace our true selves when we go out into the world on our own. Regardless of your experience, the transition from high school into college, and then from there into the “real world” (or directly into the “real world” if college is not part of your path) can be an exciting, daunting, magical, and dangerous, time for young queer/LGBT people. In this workshop we’ll talk about coming out, building a “family of choice,” interacting with school administration and employers, confronting homo/transphobia on our own, relationships, self-identity and more.