On Being a Den Mother to Agents of Evolution

Lioness licking one of her cubsCreative Commons License photo credit: Tambako the Jaguar A primal den mother.

 

A truth about who I am has bubbled up into my consciousness. It's been hovering around the edges of my awareness for awhile now, but last night it sunk in deep. The realization began as I set out the cookies and juice at the Evolver Pittsburgh Potluck, it spread as I passed around the crayons and markers, and amplified as I listened to everyone talk and felt all the warm cozy fuzzies radiating in my chest:

 

I'm a den mother to agents of evolution. I have been for a few years now. I just haven't really known it.

 

So what does that mean?  It means that I am incredibly prone to feelings of devoted nurturing love for young people (some of whom are way older than me chronologically) who are weird, energetic, a little apocalyptic and completely brilliant.  I've found these folks in all kinds of places-- in the Reading Poetry classes that I teach at Pitt, at Hare Krishna kirtans, at coffee shops, at freak out hippy art weddings in the Allegheny Cemetery. But it seems that most I've met lately in some connection with the evolver social movement, so for short hand I'll call them evolvers.

 

What do I want to do with and for these kind of creatures? Pretty much anything and everything I can-- feed them, teach them everything I know about transforming consciousness, learn everything they know about the same, buy their art, see their shows, hear their music, give them big hugs, invite them to perform at events, create amazing events for them, make sure they know I love them and that they're tremendously important-- mostly just feel their energy and let them feel mine-- because that energy exchange is healing me, growing me, keeping me alive and well.

 

I use the term "den mother" because when I'm throwing a Genius Gathering or some other cozy happening for this crowd, I feel like I'm filling a role similar to the leader of a Girl Scout troop-- having an activity planned for the gang, making sure snacks show up and fun is had.  I find this madly, madly fulfilling.  Why? Because usually at some point in the night my weary setting up and bringing the crayons is rewarded by someone or multiple someones flashing stunning radiant beams of inventive singularity out into the group-- and this makes me feel like I'm part of something vital, incredible, crucial. This makes me feel like Pittsburgh is the center of the universe. (Such a strange feeling, but I have it regularly now!!) This gives me hope for this world and keeps me willing to roll out of bed and stick on another sparkly heart bindi.

 

I guess I feel such a nurturing pull towards evolvers because most of us look like we need some nurturing.  I feel like the young men and women I meet who dazzle me so much often seem a little lonely, a little frayed around the edges, a little like their parents and their family have outcast or never understood them, a little tired from the uphill effort of being a genius in a world that tries to systemically crush geniuses. I empathize with that. And I want to make it better.  In fact, I want to make it so better that it's not bad at all anymore, it's incredible.

 

So if you're a little bit obsessed with magic, theater, tantra, ritual, entheogens, cosmic consciousness, labyrinths, alchemy, the tarot, kundalini awakening, psychic phenomenon, oracular prophecy, shamanic journeys and in general the dreamy side of life-- I probably love you and want to hug you and give you cookies. You should feel free to write to me at sweetsongofjoy at gmail dot com, friend me on Facebook, join the Evolver Pittsburgh group on Facebook-- and shine your light, sweetheart, because you're awesome.

 

 

Posted on August 5, 2011 and filed under Uncategorized.