My friend Shauna Aura has been blogging about her experiences in unhealthy communities – specifically, pagan communities that fall into the patterns that evolve as a result of narcissistic leadership. From the response her posts are getting, the dynamic strikes a chord, and a number of people weigh in with painful stories of their own, as well as weighing in with fierce defense of communities they remain committed to.
Some comments express the opinion that those who were caught up in such communities enabled the abuse they experienced. That they needed approval, they needed love (it bothers me that some of the comments are so dismissive of the power of that basic human need). The comments note that neediness makes possible “narcissistic love-bombing”, and there’s discussion about the repercussions of choosing to give away your power and faith to those who are human, and fallible.
I’ve been interested to see that none of the comments have addressed the dynamic that snared me in such communities in the past. I don’t give up my power to humans, and I catch on to narcissistic manipulation pretty quickly. In the past, though, I did give up my power to the sacred. Give me work that changes lives, and I have been inclined to do whatever was required of me so I could do that work – whether the community had healthy leadership or not.
That approach – to make things work no matter what it took – would leave me with tough choices. Often, communities that were less than healthy had leaders who were more insightful than any I’d worked with before, or thought I might ever get to work with again. It was a joy to work with them, and learn from them. That joy was coupled with the stress and sadness of seeing them caught up in the same unhealthy dynamic I was, and seeing the toll it took on them.
Then there were the amazingly positive things happening to those not in leadership. Many newcomers to the communities experienced transformation and epiphanies, and, with communal support, risked opening to vulnerability and love again. I saw what a difference the community made in their lives – for me, working for that kind of change is good work.
So whatever the work asked of me, my heart urged me to push on, which I did until, inevitably, the manipulative dynamics overcame me. In one community where scapegoating was rampant, I came to a point that I tried telling myself the Hanged One/Scapegoat was an archetype, so there must be a sacred component there, if I could only find it. The deeper I explored the sacred aspect of the scapegoat, the more I realized how dangerously unhealthy the community dynamic, and my role in it, had become.
So at some point, despite my best efforts, I had to push my heart aside, and accept that the price I was paying wasn’t worth it. Sustainable body – I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder, and I have no way of knowing if the years of stress and overwork in my communities contributed, but I suspect they did. Sustainable spirit – my partner was threatening to leave me if I didn’t separate from this work, because he saw my spirit fading, and he was so frustrated. Sustainable community – in the end, the joy I found in people’s initial epiphanies darkened, as I watched them travel the arc most people follow in such communities: enchantment and transformation, to shaming and abuse, to despair and separation. I began to see that I was playing a role in that initial enchantment that set them up for the despair, later. I felt that despair, too – when I finally left, my heart and my bones physically ached for months and years after the separation.
This seems to be a lesson I keep having to learn in a number of different ways: I have to balance what I believe the sacred is asking of me, with what it’s possible for human me to do. My friend, Reclaiming Walker O’Rourke, once suggested to me that I tell the sacred “no”. I had never even considered that. Acting on his suggestion was my first step in taking the approach I take today, which is: sacred, you are the authority beyond the veil, and I grant you much authority on this side of the veil. But I have authority over my own body, and what’s doable for me and what isn’t. I am in service to you, but first I’m in service to my own sustainability.
That sustainability means that now, I only give my heart to communities with healthy leadership (thank you, Ella Andrews). If I choose to work in less healthy communities, I carefully manage how I commit to and do work there – I set boundaries with the sacred. I never dreamed such boundaries would be needed – but as it turns out, for me to be sustainable, they are, and I’m grateful to finally know it.
Beltane blessings to those of us who hear the call and find ways to answer it, and to thrive.
