Patriarchy & Powerlessness (Part 2)

First Steps on my Journey of Healing and Self-Discovery

I’ve never been a bro… one of the guys to just hang out with. Sports have always bored me, and I'm not one for idle chitchat. Instead, my interests have always lain in intellectual and philosophical discussions, infused with a depth of emotion and passion. During my years as a Christian, this meant countless hours spent exploring theology and philosophy, eager to share my ideas with anyone willing to listen. It took me almost half a century to realize that not everyone shared my enthusiasm 😂. After leaving Christianity, my intellectual curiosity shifted towards psychology and esoteric spirituality. At 48, just a year after walking away from religion, I started my own hypnotherapy practice. My interests began to revolve around hypnosis, the subconscious mind, psychedelics, inner work, myth, Jung, tarot, Gene Keys, Human Design, and a particularly thrilling fascination with evolutionary astrology.

Reflecting on my journey, I understand why Bono’s lyrics, sung with such tortured longing, "But I still haven’t found what I'm looking for," resonated so deeply with me at 16. This has been a recurring theme in my life: I am, and always will be, a spiritual seeker, intent on unraveling life's deep mysteries. What has changed over the years, however, is my need for answers. I am increasingly content with not having them, finding joy instead in the thrill of exploration and inquiry.

Religion, as I painfully discovered over the years, is not a haven for spiritual seekers. It is a place where those in power stifle the beauty of questioning in all its forms: creative, artistic, earthy, sensual, and sexual. These are all the fundamental elements that make us human. Religion, as I experienced it, can be a tool for dehumanization, allowing those in power to manipulate and control.

Before converting to Anglicanism, I was frequently told by religious authorities, both in school and church, to cease my relentless questioning. Once I embraced the Anglican faith and donned the priest's collar, my questioning became an absolute liability. In my previous post, I mentioned that one driving force behind my decision to become an Anglican priest was to reclaim a sense of power I felt I had lost. Equally compelling was my pursuit of love. My lifelong struggle has been to feel empowered and to love myself, yet my inherited belief that I was a sinner kept me from both. Being a sinner meant my power was evil. Being a sinner meant I was unworthy of love. Although I have made significant progress in healing from these falsehoods, I occasionally slip into old, subconscious thinking where these bullshit lies feel real again. I sometimes still rage against the years I spent being unkind to myself. Self patience and gentleness continue to be my loyal allies in the process of deconditioning and rebuilding. With practice, these qualities are increasingly flowing in me, fostering greater awareness and self-compassion.

During my training and tenure as a priest, I was under the authority of men who were themselves deeply wounded. My first bishop and rector, in particular, were verbally abusive and emotionally manipulative. My every action and word were under constant scrutiny, and each question met with suspicion and criticism. And I had so many questions! To them, my respect and love for my wife and three daughters was a sign of weakness. They warned that unless I established dominance over them, God would deny me authority as priest. One of the moments I'm still most proud of is when my rector summoned me to his office to sternly warn me that my wife was out of line and I needed to rein her in. I just stared into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity. He finally asked me if I had anything to say for myself. I said, “Yes. Leslie is a person. She doesn’t belong to me. Go fuck yourself.” I walked out of his office, and he never mentioned the incident again.

I should have quit right then and there, but I didn’t. I couldn’t yet. I thought if I could just persevere and get through all this suffering, I could move far away and God would lead me to a parish where I could lead as I believed Jesus would. Eventually, I left Dallas to become the rector of a small parish on the California central coast, just a couple hours north of where I grew up. What initially seemed like a dream come true soon turned into a nightmare. The feelings of unworthiness and powerlessness shadowed me because they were internal struggles I hadn't yet resolved. That same bishop and rector, from a distance, stirred up trouble among my new parishioners. After years of advocating love and community, a small group waged war against me personally, nearly destroying Leslie and me. So, we decided to walk away from it all.

For a few years, it felt as though leaving religion had restored my sense of worth and power. I cherish those years of relief and respite, free from the oppressive, patriarchal system. This marked the first critical step in healing from my trauma: physically leaving the cult and its patriarchal abuse. Yet, there were many more steps on this journey I now found myself on… the journey I believe I was always going to take. The next phase began in 2022, embracing plant-based medicines and dance, opening new paths of healing and self-discovery.