The Sound Of Silence
On shadows within spiritual circles.
I often reflect on my maiden self and how I used to focus on ensuring that my writing had a transformative impact and pleased everyone. One of the most profound shifts in my writing journey unfolded when I became a mother. My ultimate focus when I write now is to speak not the wisest, most important, or inspiring words but the truest ones. And there is nothing truer right now than to speak against genocide.
Nina Simone said, "An artist's duty, as far as I'm concerned, is to reflect the times."
What comes up for me right now is recognizing how often I've yearned for something that wasn't mine—something not meant to be held, not destined to be on my path. I reflect on the effort I've invested in being where I am, a person in diaspora, uprooted and searching for a home, seeking belonging in less fitting places.
I think of myself years before becoming a mother and how my priorities were in so many misplaced spaces just to belong. I saw things on my screens of Western feminists colluding, circling around the fire, wearing kaftans and beautiful dresses, goddesses, and witches dressed to the nines. I saw them together, singing and "conjuring magic," or so I thought. I wanted so hard to belong. I thought this was what I needed to wear, how I needed to look, or how I needed to pose in pictures, so they saw me as their sister. Perhaps then I will belong. If I buy the right dress, speak particular words, or associate myself with certain folks.
Then, as I briefly entered such circles, I saw I was wrong. Sharing my thoughts, making jokes, disagreeing, or speaking about my war experiences wasn't a "high vibe," so I left and never returned.
The silence within spiritual, feminist, and sacred circles is deafening. It turns my stomach to witness so many people I once respected remain silent during these critical times. What is the purpose of their gatherings, courses, and sacred sisterhood events if not to come together, organize, and contribute to the world's healing right now? It becomes painfully clear that, for some, these retreats were never about the greater good but rather about personal gain in a vast, diverse, multi-billion-dollar spiritual business. The brand of spirituality they champion caters to a specific subset of predominantly white, Western, and Western-aligned women, is disheartening.
I see how many embraced me as a sister only after I established a reputation for myself and my art. When I became "known," they reappeared, as spiritual patriarchal women often view relationships through a business lens or as a marketing opportunity to achieve their goals.
This realization weighs heavily on me as I now see the privilege of those who stay silent during the genocide. Some choose to turn away because it doesn't serve them. Nothing matters unless they're centered.
For weeks, I tried to push aside this feeling. I told myself it wasn't okay to focus on this when there are more pressing matters to redirect my energy. I tell myself others are taking action behind closed doors. But now I see that's only the case for some.
I watch leaders of sisterhood and motherhood retreats twerking, going on vacations, and celebrating thanksgiving as if nothing is happening. They act all sexy taking selfies to promote their upcoming sisterhood events.
They don't realize that the sisterhood event is already happening in Gaza. This is THE event, but it doesn't make them money. Their silence makes sense.
Spiritual patriarchal women avoid vibrating on the low side. They prefer you to be too nice and agreeing, never too enraged or angry. Avoid saying the word genocide; it's considered hostile and harsh. They think it's not spiritual to choose sides, but it's not "genoside". It's genocide.
It all boils down to centering oneself—prioritizing one's well-being, safety, spirituality, and the privilege of turning a blind eye when children die.
I think about how ascension isn’t a journey to celestial heights; it's an embodiment and grounding into the frequencies of the heart—a lived experience intertwined with day-to-day life, dedicated to protecting and liberating lives. This spiritual awakening unfolds right now—decentering and decolonizing ourselves in real-time. Now is the moment to speak up and put into practice years of manifestation courses sold online.
Some will go to clever lengths, adding a link to donations in their bios to showcase a stance, saying something without saying anything just to avoid public attacks. The audacity, the manipulation—from teachers and leaders who promise personal transformation.
I used to think that speaking on these matters was too petty or not right, but love and light will only serve us right when we use our voices and fight. To protect the children, to guard what's sacred, to defend the land, to uphold our sovereignty, to come together, speak the truth, and rage with fire.
We all bear the responsibility for our decentering and decolonizing work. It entails recognizing that it's safe to be uncomfortable, practicing compassion, acknowledging our faults, biases, and programming, and undergoing the transformative process of grieving and alchemizing.
It's acceptable to see ourselves more clearly and feel the honest pain of aligning with the truth.
If our brand of feminism, our spiritual circles, our plant medicine and tea sits fail to compel us to support a community that has endured decades of ethnic cleansing, oppression, and occupation, struggled to survive under a debilitating blockade for years, labeled as "human animals," and is currently confronting a genocide, then what purpose does any of this serve? What's the point? If these harsh realities don't move us to take a stand, it's challenging to fathom what will. Do Palestinian women and their babies not meet the criteria to deserve everyone’s advocacy?
This silence sounds like a betrayal to me.
Many of us are familiar with the sting of men's betrayal, but the betrayal inflicted by our sisters and friends goes even deeper. Our bonds as women are sacred, and when trust is shattered within these circles, the pain cuts to the very core of our existence.
We can unearth our strength, begin from our roots, and ground in real sisterhood that goes beyond our immediate circles, hyper-individualization, and monetary gain.
I’m undergoing my own process of decentering, letting go of the false promises of peace and neutrality that I once cherished. I’m genuinely listening and learning from those who are asking for our help, trusting my body, being with Earth, and actively working on deprogramming myself. I believe everyone else can do the same.
We must be ready to relinquish our privileges and conveniences, our own belief systems that don't serve us or others, to protect the sanctity of life. This is not just about Palestine; this is about all our human rights.
May we collectively sit with our discomforts and pain, navigating them individually and together, and emerge more united than ever.
With love,
Vanja
I dream of making writing my full-time gig. While my publications are free for everyone, your support keeps my creative journey alive. Your backing fuels my work and enables its continuity. If you enjoy this newsletter and find it valuable please consider:
Spreading the Word: By sharing my work with your loved ones and on social media, you help my words and work reach and inspire more people.