Z Budapest Blog

Where are you sisterhood?
Was it so hard to hold on to each other?
Was it so hard to forgive each other our human flaws?
We disappointed each other because we didn’t turn out to be divine as planned?
Are you once again alone with the struggle?
Making a living while being a woman too difficult?

I know it can be. A woman body is a full time job. Just to be healthy, we need to mind our natural cycles, bleeding every month is not fun. Two weeks tied down with the menstruation, one week pre-tension, then the bloods, and then the waning of the bloods.

Whoever says otherwise is lying. While we balance on high heels, secretly we hope our bloody pad wont move up to our back, or aspire to become shoulder pads. Bleeding is hard work. And it’s expensive. The cost of tampons, pads, the teas, the pills, the loss of joy in life, comes out of our own pockets. We finance a nation’s fertility. Not fair.

The government doesn’t pay women for being fertile, but it pays men to have erections. Viagra is covered in health plans. Birth control for women is not.  Where is the outrage?

The other day I managed to get my hands on a precious old book called, “Handbook of Women’s Liberation” written by Joan Robins. This was the very first book I read when I arrived in Los Angeles written by a contemporary feminist sister. Back then it costs $2.95, today I got it for twenty dollars. But I was so happy it was avaible at all.

In order to hold on to your Goddess consciousness you have to build in your mind a place for her with feminism. This is how she sticks with you through thick and thin.

What’s in the book?

Ms. Robins gives us a quick background on the early feminists, the suffragists from the last century. It’s good to know whose shoulders we are standing on. It’s good to know what they have done right. They organized themselves, set reasonable goals, and were relentless in pursuit of their goals. Unfortunately the narrow goal of the vote was all they could get us in order to change the female social status from chattel to citizen with a vote. This took them 75 years. Only the youngest daughter of Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Harriot Stanton Blatch, lived to see the vote won. Young Alice Paul drafted the Equal Rights Amendment, the very night the women celebrated their right to vote. That law has still not passed.

The short history of where the Second Wave comes from the Civil Rights Movement, and the Peace Movement where women have participated, only to be ordered back to make coffee for the male peaceniks and the black male revolutionaries.

There was a point when the women came to consciousness about how inconsistent that was with the goals they have supported. This is when the women left the movements of the males and created their own. There are wonderful pictures in the back of the book showing us these young faces, just like yours today, marching down on Fifth.

This is the Second Wave that invented the ingenious and effective C.R. Groups, consciousness raising groups, which I think we should reframe and reinvent for this huge wave of generation Z.

How is C.R. Groups different from study groups or discussion groups?

In the C.R. Group, the emphasis is on the personal experiences of each woman. We use what we learn first-hand from each other to politically analyze the status of women. “We wanted to build our own analysis of the conditions of women and from that derive a theory of action,” Robins writes.

I think our oppression certainly changed since 1970 when this book was written, but not so much in essence.

For example in the seventies, two-thirds of women were not employed. Instead we all labored privately; the unpaid labor of housewives’ and genital work (marriages).

Today the workforce is majority female workers, but the country is still run by old white males, who live in the fifties mentally.

Back then, women were not admitted to universities, or just not as many as men, today since admittance finally changed into merit based decisions, 75 percent of women comprise the student body in all collages and universities. Wahoo!

So we can pat ourselves on the shoulders, good work! Education is the key to liberation. Education is the key to independence. The key to human-hood for women. And we got it!

But here is a list what we have not dealt with yet, and these are huge problems.

Male supremacy:
This is the active behavior of men to hurt women. It starts in elementary school, and lasts a lifetime of anti-female propaganda. In our times, it’s very sophisticated, but hidden or not, its worse then ever before.

First we thought that only a few men, not capitalism was the culprit, who benefit from women’s unpaid labor. But male chauvinism is a cultural belief that males are superior to women. Most male god religions endorse this. Southern Baptists for example, President Carter just has written a letter of why he quit the church over their ingrained sexims.The Taliban teach the same thing, different male god … same oppression for us. Taliban kills us if we talk to a boy who’s not our relative; not long ago in Europe the church killed for six hundred years long women for witchcraft. Once accused, the women never came home again.

It’s a self-entitlement to feel superior to women, to make women serve and benefit males. Financially, in sex trades, children are the next target; born to poor mothers, men sell children to each other for sex and free labor. All men derive benefits from this enslavement of women, not just the pimps and johns, but the good men who do nothing culturally to control their brothers.

Back when Robins wrote her book, women could not foresee how to get out from under. But as herstory shows us, the collective female energies converged quite naturally and choose to go through the cracks of the doors that the Second Wave has opened for us.

What has become the norm are the personal solutions. We used to scuff at personal solutions versus the collective solutions, but in retrospect I think the female principle was right to fix our status with education first.

We are just not ready to attack the rest of the problems.

We tasted little of the return of the collective solution when we have voted for Hillary Clinton. She did get 180 million votes. That’s a good chunk of approval from women with jobs. Now if we just contemplate the Pro-Woman line, the bearers of the new society.

Blame. If we just stopped blaming each other and victims of violence, and see all women … the talented and the slow, the beautiful and the homely, the fat and the skinny, the PhD and the high school drop outs, the pregnant and the barren. We are all connected in the web of life. When you walk down the street, men don’t look at you and say, there goes a PhD. educated women. They still just see a female, any female, vulnerable.

Wake up and stay awake! Speak up wherever you are. Form the new C.R. Groups. So much work still needs to be done.

Nascimento do Movimento de Espiritualidade das Mulheres

Por Z Budapest

(Traduzido por Aphrodisiastes)

Eu tenho falado sobre o Nascimento do Movimento de Espiritualidade das Mulheres em meus discursos. Descrevi nosso primeiro Sabbath, no Solstício de Inverno, em 21 de Dezembro de 1971, em Hollywood, Califórnia; é deste ponto que eu dato o começo da espiritualidade das mulheres. Essa história está em meus livros, The Grandmother of Time (A Avó do Tempo) e Grandmother Moon (Avó Lua).

Um assunto sobre o qual eu nunca falei foi como eu estive lá. O que me fez levantar esta bandeira da Deusa? O que me mantém conduzindo-a por todos esses anos? O que eu tirei disto, pessoalmente? É mais difícil falar sobre mim do que falar sobre filosofia, teologia, política, feminismo, qualquer coisa exceto minha jornada pessoal. Por que tenho sido tão tímida? Estou com vergonha? Por que?

Mesmo agora, quando tento olhar pra trás e organizar minhas memórias, eu sinto uma pontada de “Humm, eu não importo, tudo que importa é a Causa.” Mas eu sei que estou mentindo. Esta mulher, eu, importava sim. Esta pessoa, a habitante deste corpo que é meu fiel esposo, merece um amoroso exame. Eu tenho que verter meu medo de minha própria humanidade e dizer toda a verdade que possa recordar.

Como um fenômeno começa? Leva-se a mudança dos ventos históricos, primeiro do que tudo. A sub-era de Aquário que começou em 1962 deu-nos os ventos, idéias, sentimentos, e os Beatles, que colocaram isto na música. A Música se tornou um ato político. Sim, aqueles decisivos ventos históricos, controlados por ninguém, tinham que começar soprando, decidindo quais canções se tornariam as primeiras nas paradas de sucesso. Forças coletivas invisíveis estão trabalhando quando os ventos mudam, e nós os inalamos como a doce fumaça das ervas sagradas, sentindo-os expandir nossas mentes e horizontes, sentindo o vento alcançar uma geração viva e erguê-la. Foi um vento, e foi uma onda. Surfar na história é uma experiência pesada, especialmente quando isto conduz uma geração inteira de jovens a um mundo novo.

Onde nós estávamos? Nós tínhamos acabado de sair dos anos Sessenta. A América estava mudando. Deus estava morto e as mulheres estavam marchando. Mulheres estavam marchando pela paz e liberdade para controlarem seus corpos, e eu estava marchando pela paz e pela liberdade da alma. Eu absorvi o passado feminista, li Susan B. Anthony, mas acima de tudo me modelei segundo Elisabeth Cady Stanton, a rebelde espiritual do século 19. Sua notável vida produtiva, um milagre por si só, fascinou-me. Esta mulher gerou sete crianças e escreveu todos os discursos para Susan B., sua melhor amiga. Uma solteirona, Tia Susan cozinhava e ajudava a cuidar de muitas crianças, apenas para deixar claro, ela fez com que um ótimo discurso sobre a luta pelos direitos de voto para as mulheres fosse levado às ruas. Eu li a respeito destas mulheres que tinham trabalhado muito por um direito que as demais mulheres deveriam agradecer agora, e gradativamente comecei a perceber que eu, também, tinha um destino.

Também se leva um ano fatídico para uma única mulher gerar mudança. Para continuar nesta jornada uma mulher precisa de um desejo que seja incontrolável, um profundo desejo que se alimente na mais profunda fonte da psique humana, nas cavernas das Moiras. Daí em diante ela deve desistir de tudo que não a conduz a sua meta. Ela deve ter uma mudança total das circunstâncias, deixando para trás família e casa. Ela deve encarnar esta alta meta, respirá-la, vivê-la, manifestá-la. E ao fazer isso, ela dá a luz a si mesma. Para mim, isso significou deixar meu casamento, a Costa Leste, e a Cidade de Nova York.

Eu tinha trinta anos de idade. A ignorância paralisante tinha feito do meu progresso através do meu primeiro Retorno de Saturno, uma batalha dolorosa. Eu não sabia que era normal na vida de alguém ficar preocupado aos vinte, pois todas as certezas se dissolvem. Eu não sabia nada do poder dos desígnios do destino. Eu estava mudando, mas não sabia como. Eu tive que deixar Nova York, a maravilha super-povoada, sem árvores e barulhenta na maioria das vezes. Nova York, aonde ir do ponto A ao ponto B era um esforço diário enorme, arremessando o corpo de alguém contra os tubos escuros de metal sob a estrondosa terra. No fedor de um lugar, onde os homens se aliviam na escuridão das ladeiras e corredores, qualquer um podia sentir o mau cheiro agressivo do patriarcado. O fato disto ser “normal”, permitido, e tolerado era profundamente ofensivo pra mim. Se mulheres tivessem urinado por todos os metrôs de Nova York, teria havia um protesto público por civilidade. Mas estava tudo bem para os homens. Não havia civilidade em Nova York. Ver um homem qualquer se expondo quando o trem se afasta, olhando diretamente em seu rosto, era quase preferível ao fedor de urina (especialmente no Verão).

Eu não achei ninguém que me amasse em Nova York. Estava preparada para ter relacionamentos amorosos, para ser satisfeita na cama. A cultura encorajava o sexo. Sexo era glorificado em canções e em peças. Eu estava no auge da minha beleza, e ainda não conseguia achar uma parceira para amar. Verdade, eu fui casada, mas era o tipo de casamento Europeu, um de conveniência, no qual nós eramos livres para fazer o que desejássemos, romanticamente e sexualmente. Na Europa isto teria sido ideal. Lá, ter casos era o que mantinha os cônjugues juntos.

Eu estudei teatro na Academia Americana de Artes Dramáticas e estava lendo tudo do Young, Kerenyi, Adler. Gradualmente comecei a entender bastante o significado da magia popular que havia encontrado na Hungria quando era criança. Minha mãe foi uma psíquica, e eu percebi que eu era a herdeira de uma tradição de poder feminino. Fui lentamente descobrindo o princípio feminino em minha própria pessoa. Ser uma mulher nunca foi uma dúvida pra mim, eu era feminina e esperta. Mas agora eu pertencia a um grupo maior de mulheres, o qual seus destinos afetavam o meu. O que quer que tivesse acontecido a este grupo de mulheres certamente estava acontecendo a mim. Que estranho. Ser mulher era agora uma coisa complexa, de fato, era totalmente revolucionário. Quem teria pensado que esta coisa simples, minha identidade feminina, poderia tornar-se tanto! Eu fiquei encantada com isto, aproveitei a atenção, e senti que estava ganhando confiança.

Precisa-se de vontade comum de um pequeno grupo, que está de acordo com a mulher personificando a vontade, para criar uma “meta sagrada” ou uma “missão”. Mulheres são feitas para missões, ninguém pode advogar melhor do que uma mulher. Quando uma mulher começa alguma coisa, centenas de mulheres começam alguma coisa, milhares de mulheres começam alguma coisa, e isso cresce, e o fenômeno se revela. Uma missão é alimento para a vida – o alimento da alma. É quando a alma é reconhecida pela mulher vigorosa e é bem-vinda. Missões são história. Missões são necessárias. Se você não tem a energia para advogar por si mesma, ninguém mais o fará. É por isso que as mulheres devem advogar elas mesmas: os homens nunca farão isto (veja na própria história). Muitos pensam que nós já conseguimos ir muito longe com esta coisa de “liberação das mulheres”. Eu digo que não fomos longe o suficiente.

Qual era a missão? Quando todos aqueles fatores se uniram – o novo movimento de Liberação das mulheres, minhas leituras sobre o Movimento de Direitos das Mulheres, psicologia Jungiana e mitologia – eu percebi que o que o Movimento estava precisando era de uma dimensão espiritual. Nós precisavamos recuperar a Deusa para as mulheres e gerar uma nova cultura pacífica que incluísse as artes sagradas. Nós precisavamos suscitar os veneradores da natureza, devotos da Deusa, e encher essas atividades com energia. Trazer recurso para as mulheres assim como fazer das mulheres um importante recurso para o país. Trazer devolta a Senhora, a Grande Deusa que eu tinha venerado como a “Mulher Feliz” e “Boldogasszony” quando era criança.

Não poderia fazer isso em Nova York. Deixando tudo pra trás, eu parti para a Costa Oeste e terminei no Sul da Califórnia. Quando coloquei meus pés pela primeira vez no primeiro Centro de Mulheres (apenas com seis meses de inaugurado), em Crenshaw Boulevard em Los Angeles, um evento histórico e decisivo aconteceu. O Feminismo encontrou a Bruxaria. Deveria ter havia um rufar de tambor quando eu entrei , uma bruxa hereditária da Europa Central onde as fadas uma vez dançaram. A arte popular e as canções populares com as quais eu fui criada reverberaram em minha memória quando escutei música Mexicana nos arredores do Mission District no centro da cidade de Los Angeles. Esta fusão do antigo e do novo – da tradição da bruxa Européia e do feminismo do século vinte – foi uma audaciosa mistura. Isto deu dentes ao feminismo e relevância à bruxaria. Nunca houve uma bruxa feminista antes.

O conceito foi tão estranho, e ainda tão natural. Todos viam a bruxa como um arquétipo, uma megera com um chapéu pontudo voando em uma vassoura. O arquétipo feminista não era mais animador, a imagem de uma “Mulher Libertária” era a de uma mulher nada atraente com uma grande boca, um monte de palavras sabichonas, com confortáveis sapatos. Mulheres fora de controle. Irmandade, um grupo de lésbicas. Lugar onde os “espadas” vão para morrer. Primeiramente, Feminismo e Bruxaria não gostaram um do outro. As feministas diziam que elas não precisavam de nenhuma religião – que religião é sempre ruim. As bruxas diziam que elas não precisavam de políticas, muito obrigada. Eu estava ficando entre elas, internalizando ambas sem qualquer problema, e sabia que elas teriam que se misturar umas as outras se a revolução das mulheres desejasse durar.

Políticas/ativismo como um modo de vida é importante, mas acaba com as pessoas. É onde os movimentos mais erram. Conseqüentemente, há muito trabalho e nenhum divertimento, e as pessoas voltam para casa. O que uma mulher faz depois de panfletos e tumultos e de trabalho duro? Vai beber? Fumar um “baseado”? Isto vai preencher o vazio? Dificilmente.

Eu já tinha visto mais história de perto do que muitos. A Segunda Guerra Mundial aconteceu antes que eu aprendesse a andar. O ambiente sustentador de minha infância foi destruído. Eu aprendi a andar e a falar em um abrigo subterrâneo, o lugar onde nós habitualmente guardavamos nosso carvão para o inverno. Nós éramos bombardeados várias vezes ao dia. De manhã, eram os Alemães, de tarde os Russos. Por volta das 4:00 da madrugada, os pesados aviões Americanos de bombardeio voavam sobre nossa cidade como se fossem a própria morte com asas. Eu me deitei rezando para que eles não destruíssem nada na minha casa, para que então, um dia, pudessemos sair dali. Sim, eu conhecia a história e o que estas decisões significavam, humanos contra humanos, fogo e pobreza, mulheres arrastadas para serem estupradas, água suja, diarréia, pessoas como minha avó morrendo de fome. Eu estava muito ciente da história.

Eu cresci durante a Ocupação Comunista da Hungria. Quando a Revolução Húngara rompeu em 1956, eu tinha desesseis anos. Compartilhe da excitação extasiante de se erguer contra o oppressor e o horror de ver meus colegas de classe assassinados quando os Comunistas revidaram. Eu sai da Hungria e escapei pela fronteira, determinada a ser livre.

Embora muitas das pessoas que eu conheci em Los Angeles naqueles dias não tivessem tido uma infância tão excitante, nós fomos uma interessante geração. John Lennon, dos Beatles, nasceu no mesmo ano que eu, Ringo Starr também, foi um ano decisivo para muitos de nós. Nós éramos a Geração da Semente. Nossos pensamentos e sentimentos sobrevivem nas canções dos Baby Boomers¹. Foi esta geração semeadura que criou o conteúdo emocional para a vinda da enorme explosão musical, cultural e sexual.

Assim como muitas coisas, nosso movimento não foi planejado. Ele apenas brotou. Uma semente sabe que vai ser uma árvore quando brota no solo? Foi assim conosco. As mulheres que vieram à loja de velas Feminist Wicca estavam famintas por conhecimento, por poder, por ritual. Nós costumávamos converser sobre como seria celebrar os Mistérios das Mulheres do jeito que nossas antigas mães celebravam há muito tempo atrás. Pessoas diziam que não se podia mas fazer isto nos dias de hoje, mas por que não?

Eu decide que havia chegado a hora. Em 21 de Dezembro de 1971 eu disse que ia fazer um ritual para celebrar o retorno da luz. Mulheres que quisessem se juntar a mim deveriam ir ao meu flat em Hollywood ao pôr-do-sol. Eu não sabia quem apareceria, mas a Deusa sabia. Quando começou a escurecer havia seis mulheres na sala, seis ótimas amigas trançando as cintas das bruxas com lã vermelha, a cor da vida e do sangue. Minha mãe tinha me ensinado a fazer um círculo, a dar as mãos e deixar a energia crescer. Nós chamamos as ancestrais para se juntarem a nós. Uma das mulheres começou a cantar.

Juntas, nós rezamos e nós cantamos, chamando a Deusa para pegar a semente dos mistérios das mulheres do passado e cultivá-la como uma religião de mulheres indígenas. Nós rezávamos por justiça social e pelas bênçãos da terra. Queríamos alguma coisa que fosse ao mesmo tempo tradicional e revolucionária. Nós estávamos removendo o antigo poder do deus masculino sobre as mulheres. Quando tínhamos terminado de abençoar todas e tudo nós podíamos perceber que aquilo era necessário, nós saímos ao ar livre. Até então não tivemos nenhuma chuva naquele inverno, mas naquele momento conseguímos  ver que as nuvens estavam sobre nossas cabeças. Eram lindas, girando com as formas de espíritos. Nós levantamos nossas mãos ao céu, e uma suave e saudável chuva começou a cair.

Depois disso, nós sabíamos que tivemos alguma coisa boa. Aquele primeiro ritual deixou-nos elevadas por dias. O que falavam era que bruxas davam ótimas festas, mas nós todas sabíamos que estavamos fazendo algo mais. Um pequeno grupo de nós começou a se reunir para rituais e cada vez que nos encontrávamos, haviam mais mulheres. Quando super-lotamos o apartamento, começamos a realizar rituais ao ar livre. Costumávamos nos encontrar na praia. Cavavamos a areia e colocavamos nossas velas lá, protegidas do vento. As mulheres trouxeram flores, cristais, fotos de antepassados falecidos.

A Deusa nos ensinou como venerá-la e nós ensinamos umas as outras. Eu aprendi como esclarecer o que era necessário, e a necessidade me ensinou como ser uma sacerdotisa. Nenhuma de nós queria uma hierarquia – este era o antigo estilo masculino do qual nós estavamos tentando nos livrar. Não seria bom se eu tentasse dizer a alguém o que fazer. Mas eu achei que podia conseguir com que todas participassem, observando a energia coletiva, aceitando o que as diferentes mulheres estavam fazendo e liderando o grupo para apoiá-las. “A Deusa está viva!” eu gritava, “A Magia está em ação!” A Religião não deveria ser séria; deveria ser extasiante. Deveria ser um poder que queima em seu ventre e canta em sua alma. Nós gritávamos, nós uivávamos, nós cantávamos. Sentíamos o poder da face feminina de Deus e Ela era impressionante. Tivemos um ótimo tempo, e nossos números cresceram e cresceram.

Este foi o começo. Muitos livros depois, publiquei Summoning the Fates (Convocando as Deusas do Destino²), no qual eu entendi muito mais sobre como a mão das  Deusas do Destino organizam a vida de alguém de acordo com a missão destinada. Destinos e vida são conceitos permutáveis. Podemos fazer planos; as Deusas do Destinos vêm de qualquer jeito e finalizam.

Desde que eu entrei no terceiro destino em minha vida, as Deusas do Destino se tornaram entidades confortantes. Quanto mais você aprende sobre elas, mais você aprecia a si mesma, e mais felicidade e paz metal você alcança.

Nota da Tradução:

¹ Pessoas que nasceram durante o período democrático após a Segunda Guerra Mundial.

²  Conhecidas em Inglês como Fates, Moiras na mitologia grega e Parcas na mitologia Romana, eram três Deusas mitológicas que regiam os destinos das pessoas e dos Deuses.

Linking up, networking, speaking back to power.

Here we are in 010, entering the second decade of the 21^st century. It is still the sub-age of Aquarius. It is still the favorable times for humans to wake up to a new self understanding. This is happening in big quantum leaps, fueled by technology and science. Congratulations to all fellow planetary travelers! We have arrived in the future.

But now what?

We have more and more women come to us searching for a LOCAL group, contact where they can join, study and grow. This used to be rather easy in the last century. You went to your local bookstore; you hung out around the bulletin board, read the stuff on it, then added your own request, “Goddess study group forming” and the phone number. Pretty soon the first woman would call, who knew another, and in a couple of weeks you had a good little eager group; armed with Goddess books, healthy tea collections, and time set aside to be just a student of your own culture.

Women’s studies at Universities is not what it used to be, its still great we have them at all, alas under the name of Gender Studies, but who cares let’s just be grateful. These are still places where women can gather and plan actions.

Once you have created yourself an account with us, the Dianic University, we will let you use our Global Goddess Dianic Groups virtual bulletin board, look it through for women in your neighborhoods, add you name to the particular state and region you are at. Then we will have a central board  to post on for just this. Local connections.

Because we only let people we checked out on the board, you are safer to post and call whoever you find. I recommend exchanging email addresses first and get to know each other. Once you decide to meet up, do it in a public place first … maybe for coffee or tea. Check each other out and then exchange contact information.

But more than beginners, first timers, seekers of all kinds, we also need volunteers who help us battle the cultural anti-woman forces. You don’t think that the battle field is any less than before computers. Each time I go on the radio, or write something very pro-woman, anti-establishment, anti-male god material, I get attacked on the internet from men who hate that we have advanced as much as we have. They would like to see the Goddess Movement fade with my lifetime; me destroyed on the visibility field, my ideas and philosophies relegated to the trash bin.

Bobbie, my mighty Amazon, is the only one on the field battling this, so far successfully. But we could not have been defending ourselves without the help of women working in those technology citadels of power, the Goggles, wikis, who knew about the Goddess Movement. Imagine that! We are everywhere.

We need new allies with some time and skills. Not just hey I want to try to help, but rather … hey, I can battle on the techie field with the best of them and I don’t mind a little work out against the invisible forces.

This is what l’d like to put out to you. Please techie women with writing skills, step forward and make contact with me and Bobbie. The cultural war consists often in creating material, but also tracking down where the trouble comes from, correction information when it’s wrong.

Our visibility on the cultural field is crucial in the elevation of our sex.

When women don’t know how to link up, network, and publish … we can easily be marginalized again.

Don’t forget women are the majority of all humans. We create everybody from our own bodies. We raise citizens, consumers, and all the tax payers.

Women deserve their own culture. This is the part of the battle field that needs boosting. Individuals can do a lot, but we need the help, the link-up with the successful women, the higher end income women, the university program directors, and the leadership who organizes workshops, conferences, and gathering of all kinds.

For example, link us up with organizations where the women already formed groups, where we can cast a wider net when we disseminate information.

When we tighten our skills around the new technology and form a cultural staff around our own interests, then we can serve women on all level much better.

What I don’t want to end up is alone, battling the evil forces of cultural marginalization, and witness the new century pushing women’s issues, women’s needs and women’s spirituality aside.

What we have is a lucky opportunity to flood with our skillful energy into the collective consciousness, making room there for the love and respect for women; create a world where women don’t have to go to collage to learn about their past, our own  dianics, and whose shoulders we are standing on.

Information about our spiritual heritage will create a proud generation of women, talented, blooming, and confident.

Let us all go into the depth of the sub-age of Aquarius in this certainty, when women lead the planet thrives.

Blessed be,
Z Budapest

Contrasting cultures: the female witches are winning in San Francisco, but in Africa women are dying.

Yesterday I celebrated my wife’s birthday, and we went to see Wicked. This is a highly successful play, musical, it’s been to Broadway, and has many companies playing all over the globe.

I was so very pleasantly surprised.

Culturally speaking witches have gained a great friend in this play. The main characters are taken from the Wizard of Oz, before Dorothy drops in, and their struggle is about lookism, discrimination, friendship between girls. While there is a man involved who loved both young women, Glinda and Elphaba, ultimately he chooses the girl with the green face. The different one.  Her character can be seen as a feminist character. She stands up for herself. She makes waves. And when she gets angry, she shakes the rafters. She makes the stars fall all over the scene, frightening even the great Wizard. This green girl liberates the flying monkeys, saves animals. She is obviously a woman of our times.

Glinda also learns not to rely only on her looks, and to be less shallow.

At the end, the part when the couples get together, wedding bells are absent. Nobody gets married. Certainly a new twist in musicals.

The green woman gets glorified into Goddess proportions. She is elevated to the top of the theater, strong lighting makes her look like an apparition from above and later, the two women hand-in-hand take their bows, while a hundred or so little girls in their own ruby slippers cheer them on.

I am talking about the images the positive messages these little girls absorb from this musical.

The main message is that best friends outrank boyfriends. Two women can be friends even if they are from different races, or families. The green woman is just as acceptable as the “normal” one. They need each other, and there is a lot of hugging as well.

Next the musical talks about how “good” people are kind to animals. But the most important message is, a witch’s powers used for positive goals is a blessing. You don’t see this message too often. The witch’s power in Wicked is celebrated.

Contrast this with the recent Oprah show where she exposed the plight of our sisters in Africa.

Nicholas Kristof, writer and activist, was the guest with his wife. His book Half the Sky is a best seller.

Here, on the other side of the earth, women are enslaved, beaten, raped, starved, denied medical attention when injured. All of the starving, still pregnant, women die in childbirth one every minute.

Orphans left behind get to be used in the sex slave trade. The sex trade is supported by western or wealthy males, selling and buying little children.

Hexes on pedophiles! Every dark Moon witches should send them a whammy.

What I didn’t hear much about was “who” is raping these women, who is knocking them up, withholding food from them, or any support. Who is frequenting the children’s brothels?  Poverty creates a pedophile’s cheep paradise.

Oprah doesn’t like to say this, but the answer is “men.”

Women are ashamed to say that men are out of order, because we know so many real good humans. Many good men, yet they cannot change the way other men behave. Where is a movement of good men defending against violent men?

Islamic soldiers, Arab fighters on camels backs (Darfur), burning down their already impoverished homes, raping the women and children alike. Once a girl is raped, she is damaged goods, her own family abandons her. It’s a death sentence.

Oprah doesn’t like to say the negative things, naming names. She is Ms Positive. She was asking us to donate money via her website. We assume Mr. Kristof has given her the right contacts, so the money will go to the abused sisters. I trust Oprah more then anybody else on TV.

So I went and clicked on the “For All Women” registry. There I have taken on the support of a girl to go to school for at least a year. Get lunch, books and uniform. But 75 cents can get a little boy or girl dewormed. I dewormed my dogs regularly. If you have any heart, you’ll send money to these women; be part of the good guys.

Get the book Half the Sky read it, and pass it to your friends. Pagans must get involved in politics. Without our spells and money, change is slow and generations of mothers are wiped out.

The Goddess is alive in the lucky West, but she is barely alive in Africa. It will be a long time before they can see Wicked, and celebrate the female to female friendships. Or celebrate the power of righteous anger. Or that of spiritual liberation through study.

This Full moon my prayers go up to expose woman hating religions, take them down morally and financially.

Support the women who are surviving, let there be less orphans in the world.

Happy Yule to you all.

Some women shirk from fighting back. Too many years have passed since the heroic age of the seventies, when everything new started. We used to have self-defense classes, repair our own cars classes, women’s studies about who we are as women and what have women done in Herstory that we are not aware of. Gathering our treasures and our tears.

Still we live in male centered societies. Males often rule by violence and rape, and the everlasting wars. Not by law. Too many rapists have gone free, too many murderers as well. White-collar thieves live long and hardly ever fall into the hands of justice.

But something has happened here in the San Francisco Bay Area that tripped the “that’s enough!” wires for me as a witch. A lesbian was viciously gang raped by four men. Then they kidnapped her, and continued their assault for another 45 minutes. She was brutally beaten to within an inch of her life for being a woman, for being a lesbian. Then, they stole her car and left her naked in the chilled winter winds and pounding rains, daring her to survive.

She did.

I have not hexed anybody since the Trailside Killer (still in jail) in the 80’s, but something turned inside me when the crime came this close to my life. I’m much older now at 68 and somewhat incapacitated with artificial hips. I gathered enough courage to call to arms all those women who considered holding a hexing circle in defense of our lives a worthwhile effort.

13 women answered the call. It was a magical number. I went ahead.

As always we document all hexes, so there could be NO doubt we are not calling on the devil.

I contemplated the situation and carefully chose the Lady of Guadalupe as our Queen of all Americas to be the center. I asked a friend to get me some large banners of the Lady. She sent us two large banners, glorious in her appearance, the Lady in her full queenly glory. Thank you, Karen!

Next I gathered the all-important occult supplies. Yes you can cast successful spells without anything, just praying but when you are up against a rape culture, violence of this hate crime magnitude, it’s good to have some mandrake root with you, and other secret baneful herbs to burn in your cauldron.

I represented the lives of the rapists with red thread, and over the smoking cauldron, praying to the Queen, I cut their luck into many small pieces. The only man who came to our hex, Lez, helped to put them all into the burning cauldron of change. This was important. Men must stop rape. Men must come over to the women’s side and fight for us.

Rarely ever happens.

To the Queen who we invoked as grandmother (her old name used to be Tonatzin) , we asked her to help us and to bring these men, and ALL rapists down with Unluck. We cut their luck into tiny little pieces, their luck now gone.

Next I hexed them so nobody would hide them. Hexed them that their own family would give them up. Hexed them that they would turn on each other. Hexed them that the youngest one would talk.

Video of parts of this hexing ritual are on my DU website: http://wicca.dianic-wicca.com

Then we went home. I lie down on my couch and let the new year arrive. Thought it would be a little while that this spins out its necessary wheels.

By Wednesday, the news was on the front pages of the SF Chronicle. Three of the men were arrested. The younger one’s family gave him up! And then he talked as the hex had requested. They arrested two more and by Thursday the fourth criminal turned himself in. Blessed be Tonantzin!

Sisters of the Susan B. Anthony Coven Number One participated with us globally in this incredible fast Justice. In Orange County in Southern California, and elsewhere, the women gathered to support this hex. All could see the success of their labors. Enough is enough!

On the same day the arrests began here, a serial rapist was caught in Columbus, Ohio … No luck for rapists! Justicia rules! So now I have allowed myself a little victory toe-dance. Yeahh!

What I hoped would result from this experience is a nation wide hex on ALL rapists and similar gender initiated violence. This would take place annually, on the dark moon at the end of every year.

But the real change can only come from a change of consciousness. A mind change that would see women differently. Not as meat, not as holes, or whores, but as sisters and mothers and citizens with rights.

Male gods’ religion didn’t help at all. Thousands of years and the societies are still not civilized. The male gods remain the Lords. They have holy books full of violence and trashing of women. Switching back to Goddess culture and appreciation of life is what would help see women in the loving light.

After all we are the doors of life. We birthed everybody.

Where is the gratitude? Why the rage against us?

I hope that women ‘grow a pair’ and learn not to be fear driven, to stand up for themselves and each other. Learn SISTERHOOD again!

Maybe it’s time that the ‘Take Back the Night Marches’ that I started back in the 70’s, becomes an annual hexing ritual done by sisters and brothers alike. A hex on all enemies of women and peace. Maybe that will make the difference! It has to begin somewhere!

Z Budapest
www.ZBudapest.com

Copyright Z Budapest 2008

Por Z. Budapest

I have heard that some of the bad old myths are still alive. I have decided to attack them head on this time.

1. Dianic Tradition is for lesbians only.
This is a myth that attempts to divide the women against each other. An old ploy. In the past it worked, but not anymore. Sexual orientation is of NO importance when you are learning a spiritual path. Women are women, you love whom you please. Naturally. Herstorically, when I have revived ancient Women’s Mysteries, there was about half and half, gay women and straight women, worshiping together. But since I have never asked who is sleeping with whom, this may be a few points off either way.

2. An all women’s circle is not balanced.
A very strange myth. As if having a penis in a circle would be balancing. Underlying this remark is hostility toward women because they claim their own space. Claiming anything without men seems to enrage men and make them spin lies. Women were ignored and their traditions buried deep, but since the seventies the tradition is reclaimed and it is very satisfying. Women can exhale psychically when with each other, be themselves. When you put men into the circle, both sexes act differently. Nobody is themselves. An all women circle is balanced excellently because psychic wholeness does not depend on genitalia.

3. Dianics can raise power but they don’t know how to send it.
This must be from a man who obviously had no experience observing this. Dianics are especially good at sending energy, and even partaking in political spells when women need protection. Our spells come true most of the time. We regularly hexed rapists and mass murders; men that were hexed didn’t get away with their crimes.

4. Dianics are man-haters.
This is the most powerful accusation to divide women. We all cringe when we hear it because what it says to us is that we are hating our own children. This is the result of women’s audacity for claiming our own space to worship our Goddess. We are the life givers, we are raisers of sons and daughters; there is nobody on earth who didn’t come from our wombs. How dare you be so insecure that you call your mamas such names! Men have their priesthoods, their popes and ayatollahs, they have their religious fanatics, Osama Bin Laden, and suicide bombers, their men-only clubs and an all pervasive boys networks. Men don’t call other men woman haters, but they should. It’s a strange misguided projection on the women indeed. To belittle women, call us names because we want to worship without men, is absurd.

I’m on the radio this Sunday with the good folks from Salem’s Hex Education. Should be a good chat as the witches of the east meet up with the witch of the west. Who knows where this conversation will go?!!

Christian and Lori are honored and excited to welcome Z. Budapest to Hex Education! Dianic Feminist Wicca Founder and Women’s Spirituality Movement Foremother, Z. Budapest is at the top of any Who’s Who list in the Craft. Her first book was The Feminist Book Of Light and Shadows, later retitled The Holy Book Of Women’s Mysteries. This was followed by The Grandmother of Time, Godmother Moon, and Goddess In The Office; at least one of these books is probably in your library! In 1974, she was arrested for fortune telling as a result of reading tarot cards, and that lead to her being the last person to be tried for witchcraft in the United States. This is a rare opportunity to hear from one of the true pioneers of the Craft!

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/HexEducation/2009/08/17/Special-Guest-Z-Budapest

I don’t know about you but I am bored out of my mind with the images we get fed from movies and television. I am bored looking at hardware chases, sweaty male faces and guns spewing forth bullets, (hardly ever hitting their target, except the end), running around trying to SAVE the world from other males who are equally out of control. Die Harder, Rambo 7, Lethal Weapon 5, and its spawn ad nausea. Interchangeable movies with each other drone on. Clearly Hollywood loves males with a passion, treats females as marginal, and treats female writers/directors with exclusion and contempt.

Why is it that male executives who make programming decisions want purposefully to make movies for other men rather than women??? Because they don’t have to. They say “women go see anything” with a date. In other words women are cultural whores. We sit through, bored, or are insulted by the content, we allow the movies to portray us as marginal humans (one female part to ten male roles ), we pay our good chick dollars , hold our noses and go see movies that we just don’t like at all because we are women, we go with the male tide. Who me? Am I to complain about no entertainment for more then half of humanity? No problem as long as we are on a date. This is how we are seen. Powerless cultural whores who will see any crap the males churn out. I want to change that within my lifetime.

Chick Flicks Versus Dick Flicks

Supposedly males will not go see the ‘chick flicks.’ On a date somehow they will resist going to see a movie where feelings are featured, women’s feelings especially. Chick flicks are defined as having to do with feelings and relationships, maybe even a little crying is involved. Supporting women to get their movies on screen is not likely ever to come from men. They would rather put gay males into their dick flicks. The new dick flicks go as far as showing males pissing in stalls , we have to watch them do the little after ’shake’ and see them not washing their hands afterwards. Is this culture??? Just a second while I throw up.

When a so called ‘chick flick’ makes a ton of money, most often they do, it’s termed as ‘a fluke’. Let’s just list a few flukes who either won an Oscar or were nominated for writing.

E.T.
Thelma and Louise
Howard’s End
The Remains of the Day
The Piano
Sleepless in Seattle
Heavenly Creatures
Il Postino
Sense and Sensibility
Wag the Dog
Primary Colors
Erin Brokovich
The Lord of the Rings
My Big Fat Greek Wedding

These are the ‘flukes’ men like to call not profitable, yet they all were!!! Lies! They are flukes all right, because against all odds, somehow they got made.

I am a professional writer and I also dream about writing movies that sell and get made. So far I have written 10 books (in print) 3 screenplays, with 2 more in mind, 2 sitcoms, and the ideas keep coming. Each time I feel the spirit fill me with new work, I look at my professional field, and all the excellent screenwriter women who live and work in Hollywood. They have agents and connections, and yet NOT ONE sold an original screenplay last year (2002) Not once did we break through the male celluloid wall. How can I then dream of selling a property without an agent, without connections, to even have a chance of a snowball in hell?

Then I have compared this dismal situation to what was there 3o years ago. It is the same! In many ways its worse. Back then when we first fought for women’s culture .we really thought our efforts will succeed in time.(we were told over and over again to be patient.) After all women have gained many rights since, but Not on the cultural field. We can have a legal abortion but not a good flick to see with our girlfriends. I am not even asking for good lesbian movies. Just something with some imagination and entertainment value for women.

Its is said that if a woman director gets a hit movie made she will not work for ten years. If a male gets a hit movie made, he will work for ten years more. This is so unfair to woman artists that it chokes me with tears. The male justification is once more :women will see anything. Anything. No need to fear our demands. Chick dollars will be spent every weekend on dick flicks.

Let’s Give Them Bad Blockbuster Weekends

Chick dollars withheld from the box office is LONG overdue. Somehow we never quite believed how bad it is being excluded from our times’ culture, marginalized like a minority, when we are majority. Get it through your head! Women are most of the human beings on earth. We buy most of the books, we read more then men, most of the movie goers are female. And we don’t need a date to catch a flick.

Being culturally marginalized is to accept second rate citizenship. Just because women have been too NICE and go to all the male crap they call movies, dick flicks. We are being punished for our writers and directors having a vagina, having excess to their feelings and liking to entertain thoughts other than killing people as problem solving devise.

How do we do this?

Hollywood depends heavily on their weekend intake on any new release. This is where they want to see their money returned to them. If women don’t go to Dick Flicks they will feel our financial sting. Hollywood respects financial power. Let’s give them Bad Blockbuster Weekends.

The definition for dick flicks is this:

1. When you see the advertising/promo, do you see mostly males on it and just one female on the poster? Unless the woman is the lead character it’s a Dick flick. Avoid it, the woman is not you, she is just a prop to assure you subliminally that these guys are still heterosexual. She probably has five minutes airtime, tops. All of that as a sex object or grieving for her man. Whichever male character has a girl usually dies in dick flicks.
2. Rule number two: The savior theme, males saving the world without women. This is the prototype of the dick flick, they get a male star to carry the movie (to bring in the women who are enamored with male stars and please tell me why ), sell it as adventure, but it’s just a lot of hardware stuff, special effects and debris flying through the air. Millions of bullets are fired, never once hitting the dick heroes. Cost tons of money, all the males involved make out with fat checks, it’s a dick fest. Avoid this kind of movie, and if your date wants to see it, let him go alone. You are no longer a cultural whore.
3. People of color in dick flicks without the women are still just crap. It doesn’t matter if we now replace white dicks with black dicks, it’s still not going to entertain feelings, create an emotional effect, not even good fantasy. Believe me you have eaten this cultural food before, and it left you empty and unappreciated. Boycott it.
4. War movies. No matter which war it’s about, it’s a dick flick. Glorifying senseless violence and manhood in time of crisis. You have seen this movie thousands of times . Don’t buy that ticket no matter who is the good looking guy in it. It’s against your values as a woman, and you are excluded. They made this movie for males.
5. Sports movies with all male cast. Dick flick. You know what to do.

Imaging, creating movies, giving communal dreams to the people is a privilege.The people is mostly women. It’s the best work in the world. Pays outrageously well when it pays. Men like it and want to keep it amongst males. We all sit there in the dark experiencing together something where humanity is grappling with some problem, feelings of all kinds, the pangs of love. It’s not only business it’s a commitment to be entertaining and to cater to women who are most of the movie goers.

It’s rare that movie directing falls into a women’s hands, unless she finances it herself and gets it done in Europe. Or she is a famous star and agrees to do a small budget movie which then gets the proverbial ‘fluke’ success and makes a lot of money.

Hollywood argues women are not good enough to write good scripts, yet when they buy a script from a man, it’s women they hire to ‘fix’ it. To do the pages. The same important pages they claim are all that matters to them. These women writers in the backrooms never get their name amongst the credits, and hence they are not paid the same nor respected.

Unless women become conscious of their own cultural demands, us, the female writers and directors and actors will not get hired.You would for ever watch dick flicks in the movies and on the small screen. Rambo clone after Rambo clone . Now a whole generation later, it is time to pay attention how we spend our entertainment dollars. Keep those chick dollars in your pocket on blockbuster weekends.

Women must show their demand that hits Hollywood in the pocketbook. We have to stay home, on big blockbuster weekends nationally (you can do videos). We are not culture whores. We want our own sex to have access to the creative tools of the dream makers. We want our own sex to dream up some entertainment for us. We want our own sex to give us stuff to laugh about, TV sitcoms and movies, breakthroughs in programming. Let women make fun for us, let them bake their excellent cultural feasts, let our sex play and write, direct and produce. With a majority of females in the world, and the majority of movie goers women, demand some better, higher FUN.

Z Budapest, BWH October 2003

(Bored With Hollywood)

What an addictive tool the Internet! I can’t wait in the morning to run to my online school and see what my students have written! They have homework, they have destiny work, they have Tree work, and they chitchat with each other forming/nurturing an international women’s community.

I am very impressed. I started teaching in the days of the mimeograph machine (early seventies). Yes, Virginia, we cranked the pages out one by one by hand, and got a lot of ink on ourselves in turn. The ink didn’t come off for weeks.

Then we advanced to Xerox machines, expensive but faster. Printing the first women’s liberation newsletter SISTER was a later development, after we mastered the art of asking for money and taking on regular subscribers. History just went fast forward from then on.

In the early eighties we still didn’t have computers; the machine we had was big and not much more than a glorified typing machine. But the times went into warp space, and suddenly we had computers, and email, and the works. Internet came as the topping on the cake. It has leveled the field all around the globe. Suddenly we are one not just in theory but as a tangible global community. I know what my friend in Budapest is cooking in her pot, and what my other friend in Brazil is reading. They know if I have some troubles with my IMAC, or the email is acting up. I bought me a pair of boots online and they fit! This must be the ultimate victory, saving time for fine things like nature walks. Smelling the roses.

I am an Aquarian with Libra Moon, Sagittarius rising. As a teacher I am best when I get to talk to my students in person, but I had to learn new tricks.

How to establish a school, online, where the students won’t get bored, won’t feel abandoned, and how do I urge them on to actually invest the time and finish the homework I have assigned to them?

How do I reward them? Do I need to give out grades? How often do I need to comment on their work? What about the peer review?
Isn’t that more exciting?

Life has stepped in and I had to go away to Europe to get some surgery done. I had double hip replacements and in that time I had a crappy computer to work on with not the American keyboard available, but a European one, with the letters and Y all mixed up. It was a nightmare.

But never mind. The Information Age has not let me down. My students have endured valiantly my misspelled words. They were kind about the long pauses when I was post-op and unable to sit without pain at the computer. I managed to hold on to my website. New students have come, and in fact my business doubled while I was laid off getting better.

Now we are nearing the 3rd year anniversary for the Dianic University. We have amassed a lot of homework in our resources; students and I started seeing that some reward IS in order, like a certificate that they had completed my curriculum. I am working on that now.

What are we learning?

My idea was to create a place where women can come and study as they have time. These women are new moms, some are students at Universities, some are professional women, some are kids. The Goddess is a family-friendly study. The Wisdom Track is a journey around the sun, taken together and taken consciously.

Each month has a Goddess monolog, and seasonal information about the sacred trees, birds, stones, and inner life. We share these with each other. Yes, its based on my book Grandmother of Time, but my books are to be lived, not just read. Reading about nature helps, but living it makes the journey visceral, makes it personal, something to share with each other.

What I found most exciting all my life is getting to know the trees. Sacred trees, every one of them. Some of them are more famous than others, but I think all trees are the very lungs of the beloved blue planet. Lungs and breath, spirit.

To make acquaintance with a local tree is to spend time with her: Hang out around her; Make some contact; Touch her; Kiss her bark. Tree-huggers dream assignments! The tree is not fast in responding, but when we take them seriously, the trees are direct phone lines to LIFE. A couple of heartfelt visits, maybe asking for a wand. These visits can become prayers.
I am very close to two trees in the cemetery park where I walk my dogs in Oakland. Here the trees are allowed to grow big and stay alive.
My beloved FRIEND, a yellow poplar, greets me as I start my walk. She sees me from afar, waits until I too can see her. Then, like a person, she begins to dance with her leaves. First just a few on the outside. Closer I come, more and more. This is independent from the wind conditions. When the wind is blowing of course she is more active. She can express excitement, she can express love, she can say yes and no depending on how she moves. I have learned her leafy language, I know what she is saying most of the time.

I tell her about my life. I ask her to send me more friends. (I have actually met two women later in the park after I asked her to help my social life). I asked her to send me more students. Most of the time I bless her and she in turn blesses me.

I have introduced her to friends of mine who do not walk this park, she approved on one, she wasn’t quite as enthused about another. Just like a person.

I urge my students to find this kind of deep personal relationship with a good tree. Many have managed to find their Tree Sisters, but some are more in tune with flowers. Some love stones better, have personal relationships with rose quartz, opals, amethysts, moonstones, and even diamonds. These human-to-planet experiences are prayers. We realign our souls with the natural world. No longer orphans, us women. We belong here. This is our time and our space. This is our planet.

Spell casting is expected from us witches, so there is a good amount of suggestions towards successful practice. But we don’t consider spell casting a daily chore. We use prayers, and abundant blessings on everything, mostly the water from which all things emerged. Than you water! Thanks and blessings change the molecular picture of water; it changes when receiving gratitude. It’s magic on a daily basis.

I have another Tree Friend. I call her Cork Mama Oak. She is magnificent. Her strong limbs reach out in a effortless stretch, her arms are thicker than my trunk. She has the sexiest groove between her main branches, and I bury my face in there and whisper sweet nothings to LIFE. She is also my Altar. Here I cast my most urgent spells just with words into her cork skin. I can hear my voice echoed back. (How does she do that?) When I finish, I leave with a much lightened heart. I kiss her several times before I leave. The feel of her cork skin feels dry but wonderful. I know I am the only one who has ever kissed her with deep love; maybe the only one to kiss her at all.

As part of our learning, we come together and talk about what has happened. How our prayers were answered by the trees. How our connection to nature created for us a family. How our love for the planet is growing. This love often gets translated into action for the environment. For peace. For each other.