It’s my first real (2 day) weekend in a couple of weeks. Woke up early, turned on this song, made coffee, eggs, & biscuits for the Mr. and myself. I fed the goldfish & hens, and now I’m going back to bed. xo
"Leviticus is the ugly step-daughter of the Old Testament—easily forgotten, overlooked, and untouched like an unclean woman. Except when Leviticus is useful. It’s useful when you want to pluck a few convenient verses out of context from the book to condemn and humiliate and justify hatred. Or when a parent wants to keep his/her child from getting a tattoo. Such “uses” of Leviticus are defilement. When you use a biblical book only to condemn but ignore it otherwise, that’s bibliolatry. You are defiling God’s word by using it wrongly and selectively. When you ignore a book filled with important (but difficult) theology only to appeal to it when it’s convenient, you are abusing it. This is biblical pornography—putting selected verses on display in a way that defiles them and uses them for your own perverted purposes."
If one engages in critique in isolation from those who are victims of social systems, critique can become despairing and cynical…. Middle-class numbness is a luxury of being able to avoid direct contact with victims.
This beautiful pendant from Jamie Spinello finally arrived. Her work always takes longer than estimated- just order it & forget about it, honestly- but it’s SO worth it. I have one of her “cage rings” too. Her stuff is pretty much the only jewelry I buy these days.
I assume it’s not uncommon to disassociate on some level (or at least have the feeling you’re “out of your body” or something) during major life events, particularly if a crowd is involved. And that’s probably ok. But it occurs to me that I was, for once, firmly within my very own body for the duration of my wedding. I may have experienced a sensation of floating, at times I under/overestimated the passage of time, and in general I was in a daze. Nevertheless, I was not watching myself from a corner, not imagining how I appeared to anyone. It’s a small miracle, considering that I am A. a woman who B. has experienced trauma & subsequently disassociates on occasion and who C. already gets anxious about crowds and attention in general, nevermind being the bride Anyway, no wedding is “perfect” but this is a thing about that day I’m grateful for.
When I was small and everything was mysterious and new, I thought the Dixie Cups were singing
"going to the jackal and we’re gonna get married going to the jackal of love”
I was very young. I knew “church” but not “chapel.” And I knew that a jackal- like, the animal- probably wouldn’t be involved in a wedding, but maybe it was a figure of speech, like “going to the dogs” only positive. With all the talk of birds singing & bells ringing, “going to the jackal” sounded like something you climbed a grassy hill in order to do. I imagined a tiny church with those ringing bells, birds all around, a grove of trees, the sun. Like in the song, or a child’s drawing.
But the Jackal of Love was more than a bit ominous, too. Not everyone went to the jackal to be married. To go to the jackal was to approach a dangerous mystery. Just the two of you and the jackal, whatever or wherever that was- some presence or event or person, some third thing. A darkness. A secret unknowable ritual, a quiet spell took place when you went to the Jackal of Love. Something scary and strange and exciting that only grown-ups knew about. And you’d “never be lonely anymore.”
Now that I know the word is “chapel,” it’s impossible for my ears to hear “jackal” any longer. Still, I invite you listen anew and imagine: not a sweet pop song, but the story of a strange and quietly wild springtime ritual. Imagine the tale of a couple, in excitement and trepidation, going to the Jackal of Love.