Kundalini Splendor

Last week was definitely an historic occasion for San Francisco and for the country and the world. Gay and lesbian couples were finally allowed to marry legally in California (Massachsetts is the only other state to grant this right). Many had waited years or even decades for this event, and there was a spirit of celebration in the city. The lead couple were Phyllis Lyon and Del Martin (Del, 87 and now confined to a wheelchair) who long dedicated their lives and talents to the case of gay rights (beginning in 1953, when they moved in together.) 1953 was the year I started graduate school (in English lit). I had discovered I was a lesbian only a short time before (and suffered my first heartbreak). But, of course, at that time, it was impossible to discuss such things as same sex relationships or abandonment by another of your own sex with anyone, including therapists. Homosexuality was looked upon as an aberration of the worst sort, and homosexuals were labeled "perverts" in the psychology books (sometimes they used the word "inverts.") It was quite literally "the love that dare not speak its name." These were the times when lesbian mothers had to fight to retain their own children (since they were considered moral failures). I remember being in a library science class where the teacher explained that books on homosexuality were to be placed under the counter for limited circulation, after which she made a face and added, "But there are such people." Another professor explained to us that one of the students who had committed suicide was a homosexual, and "they often kill themselves."

As for Del and Phyllis, they founded the first lesbian organization (called "Daughters of Bilitis" after a French novel) and published a magazine called "The Ladder" which was sent to subscribers in plain brown wrapper.

When I experienced what I now would call clinical depression, I did not know any other lesbian to tell my story to. I was afraid to go to therapy because I knew that you could be sent to a mental institution or even prison if the truth were known about you. I did not want to humiliate my family. So I suffered in silence, through a long night of desperate depression, so intense that I was barely functional. It was not a good time to be gay.

For me, going to graduate school was a very healing experience. I found a group of friends who loved literature and the life of the mind, and we had an exciting and challenging time together. I also formed a new relationship which lasted many, many years. But, although there were other same sex couples among us, no one ever alluded to the topic or openly recognized their own relationship. The subject was still quite taboo.

Now I live in San Francisco, where being gay is as common as being a Democrat or loving Thai cuisine. It is indeed a relief to be in a community where one's sexual preference is not a matter of concern, but something easily accepted, whatever it may be. Now, I must also confess that most of my friends here are heterosexual, since I tend to choose friends more on the basis of other (spiritual) interests rather than sexual preference, though it is nice if they happen to coincide. I view with pleasure the freedom of choice to marry now available to others in relationship ( I live alone and am content). But sometimes I think what a difficult road this was to travel, and am grateful that I did not accede to the demands of a coercive society but held on to an essential part of who I was.

I think it was this persistent protection of my inner identity that helped me when I entered the kundalini process, since this topic too was hidden, unknown, and viewed with suspicion at the time (l981).

Here is a letter I received via an e-mail list about the events of the past week:

June 20, 2008
Dear Dorothy,
It was an incredibly moving week for me. Couples in California who have been denied equality for so long began to get married -- in weddings recognized by the largest state in the nation. It's one of those rare moments when we can actually recognize history as it's being made -- both for the country and for the couples and families celebrating this week.
As a long-time admirer of feminist and equal-rights pioneers Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon, I love that so many people have signed our guestbook with heartfelt wishes for the two of them. They have been together for 55 years and were the first couple to be married on Monday evening. If you haven't done so, here's your last chance before we deliver our best wishes to them.
This week's images were so positive, so reflective of what's best in our lives and communities, that it is jarring to be reminded that some people will stop at nothing to pull the rug out from under these couples. If you saw what comes across my desk every day, you'd understand that this is Armageddon for the Far Right.
It's not just ridiculous end-of-civilization rhetoric. The Right knows how high the stakes are on this, and they fear the public is moving away from them on this issue. They know that if their ballot initiative to roll back equality fails, they will lose their ability to dismiss progress as the actions of a few rogue judges overriding the will of the people. So they are pulling out every lie in their heavy handbook. And they are pouring millions of dollars into their campaign to reverse the tide of history.
Polls show that we can win in California -- but it's going to be close and hard-fought. I'm proud and excited that People For is working shoulder to shoulder with so many allies to win this battle for people's hearts and minds. We're putting together a campaign in California that's going to make a real difference -- something you'll be hearing a lot more about in the weeks and months to come.
Making change is fun! Let's keep it up.
All the best,
Kathryn Kolbert, President, People for the American Way