Feminism and Spirituality
February 28th, 2006For me, these two topics are inextricably linked. Obviously, there is the moral component that provides the foundation for the belief that there is imbalance in the world which must be corrected; whether one is religious or not, human rights are essentially and necessarily a moral value. There is no other justification for the idea of natural rights, nor do I think there needs to be. Perhaps moral justifications are not entirely defensible using logic, though I suppose one can turn to evolutionary psychology and explain that, as social creatures, it is in the best interest of everybody for all people to be treated with equal dignity, but that rings as disingenuous to me. When we need to philosophically or biologically justify acting in a decent manner, I think the point has been missed, though I suppose it makes for an interesting exercise in thought. However, how one approaches or interprets the issue is a personal matter.
The spiritual aspect of my feminism is much deeper than merely a guiding sense of right and wrong. Though I hesitate to assign myself a particular set of religious dogma, or, really, to be labeled in any area, the ideas I like best and fall most in line with are those of Buddhism. (And, ideally, I think, the same philosophies are also at the heart of the teachings of most prophets; the difference is that Buddha never said anything about needing a God.)
If I can be said to believe in God at all, it is a blind God. It is not a being, not a consciousness, at least not in any sense of the word which implies desires or wants or direction. It has no will of its own other than simply to be, to exist, and therefore favors no particular parties and bears no malevolence or benevolence to anyone in particular. And this is because I believe in no other divine motivating force behind the universe than the universe itself. I think the need to personify and symbolize things is understandable, but ultimately only gives rise to confusion and conflict. Perhaps abstract ideas are harder to understand, less convenient to explain, but they are also simpler and make more sense once one has a grasp of them. This kind of pantheism doesn’t really conflict with any other system of belief, because they can all be explained and incorporated into it. (This does not go both ways, of course, because faith in one particular personification of the divine usually precludes a belief in any other, which I think is part of the problem of using symbols to begin with. Mutual incompatibility of belief leaves no room for common ground, though a cynic might say it’s certainly a convenient way to perpetuate the ancient tribal survival-of-the-fittest mindset, keep the population in line ideologically, and generally control every aspect of people’s lives with relatively little effort. But someone wouldn’t start a religion just to control people, would they?)
I believe that God is just, and in the idea of karma. This is only because, as every being is a divine being, as every creature or substance arises from the same source, when one hurts another, one hurts oneself. Equal and opposite reactions don’t have to be limited to the realm of Newtonian physics. Realistically, we are all made of the same atoms and particles and charges in different and temporary, constantly changing arrangements. There’s no clear delineation on the subatomic level between anything; it’s mostly just empty air, infinite space that gives the illusion of a physical boundary from a wide enough perspective. Most of an atom is simply that: empty. There is just enough bound together within it in order to allow what seems to be a unit to form. And, essentially, on the quantum level, everything is simply part of a shifting tapestry of charged particles. We’re all part of the same vast sprawl of loose energy, frozen just enough to form into physical mass.
Whether or not one believes literally in the idea of reincarnation, I think the idea of rebirth is real enough to justify it as a useful metaphor. All matter is eventually recycled. One thing dies or decays and other life is nurtured by the same matter, up through the food chain. No energy is ever essentially lost, it simply shifts in form and configuration. (There’s entropy to account for, I know, but that’s another topic altogether — so I’m going to be general and gloss over that, for now.) We are also the sum of our genetics, and our culture. None of us is a completely new and original being; we all come from somewhere, and inside our cells we hold the lives of thousands of years of ancestry. All death creates life, as food or fuel, as natural selection, as written or spoken history. Rebirth is used in the Buddhist sense not simply to mean the reincarnation of a particular consciousness, but, at the most basic level, this vision of the universe, as a creative cycle of destruction and disintegration in order to form something new.
This in mind, I think it is, therefore, absolutely necessary (for me) to adopt a feminist position. Everything is, broken down to its constituent elements, essentially part of the same thing. This is why I cannot accept any other position than that, though everyone and everything may be a minor variation on the same universal energy, everyone, by virtue of being a part of this system, deserves to be treated equally, to be allowed the same rights and dignity. Though we do not live in a universe where it is possible for life to be sustained without deriving energy from other life, in the process destroying and assimilating it, this does not mean that it is desirable, justifiable, or right that one group of people should always oppress another in order to survive and have the advantage. This hurts all parties involved, and is the essential injustice in any hierarchical system of oppression. This is also why feminism must fight not only sexism, but racism, classism, and a host of other discriminatory prejudices based on physical or social characteristics.
We are not all the same. We do not all have the same resources, abilities, or needs. But we are all similar enough that we deserve the opportunity to express our abilities to the fullest extent, and to have all our basic needs met. It is only when allowed to exist in this state, able to express our potential, whatever it is, that we can give our life meaning and express our ultimate purpose. Our purpose is ours alone to decide and define, and it is different for everyone, but what is important is that it must be ours — not altered or limited by anyone else.


September 22nd, 2006 at 2:53 pm
Dear earlbecke,
It’s late at night where I am the other side of the pond… but before I disconnect from my slow-as-the-snails-out-in-the-heavy-rain internet connection, I just wanted to thank you for this post.
I’ve been practising meditation for a while now and have been trying to see how it relates with my feminism. I like the way you describe the interbeing-ness of the whole global soup, and identify it as a reason to be feminist: every part of the soup must have a chance to express its potential; its ultimate purpose.
I think this is where my feminism began (though I found my feminist spark before I found my Buddhist one). In some ways my feminism has been strengthened by my practice of mindfulness and by the teachings I have heard and read, because of the idea that we are ourselves the key to realising our potential - we don’t need to look elsewhere. I can take my mind, and my awareness and shine it on my judgements, my habits or my angst, and see it all for what it is. And it is me, myself alone (with the help of some friends along the path, and the knowledge other people have trodden it before me) who can get through the mud into the lightness.
And thank you for your final sentence: ‘our purpose is ours alone to decide and define… what is important is that it must be ours’… I was thinking just this morning that my most feminist mantra is possibly: ‘above all, be true to yourself’. Which is as Buddhist as you get, I s’pose. And unfortunately it was my father who taught me that!
Stay well. And keep blogging. Your posts are great!