Matangi - The Creative Process
This week’s yoni yoga focused on Matangi, one of the ten Mahāvidyas, who has been associated with creativity and the creative process. I like Matangi. I like all the Goddesses really, they’re each relevant at certain moments in our lives, but there’s something about Matangi which talks to me, especially at this time.
As Uma Dinsmore-Tuli writes, “Matangi is the outcaste or ‘untouchable’ poet who stands at the edges of conventional society. She is a visionary, wild and free from social constraints of any kind. She is associated here with manifesting the śakti, (powerful energy) in creative expression. Her special siddhi is the capacity for abundant creativity and the expression of unique vision.
To access this siddhi requires a consciously surrendered participation: for to create and manifest anything, be it a book or a dinner, a yoga festival or a vegetable garden, requires that we surrender entirely to the cyclical processes of creativity. Creativity may involve ecstatic outpourings that are joyous and free, but it always also involves spending time in uncertain places which are frightening and unknown, times when all there is to do is wait (for the seeds to germinate, for the bread to rise, for the editor to get back with the comments on the manuscript). All these aspects of creativity are part of the process. Matangi’s great power is to be equally at home in all of these phases.”
All of life, at all times, is unknown and uncertain, but never has this been highlighted to us more so than now during an outbreak of coronavirus and the resulting lockdown where life as we knew it has stopped, at least for now. We are reminded that all of life is uncertain and unknown and this is difficult for people because it brings up inherent fears, all sorts of fears, around personal safety and stability in an ever changing world. We crave solid ground, something concrete, something that we can anchor ourselves too; in short, something known.
The creative process thrives on uncertainty and it thrives on those places that can’t always be known. It takes us into those uncertain and unknown places too, where we don’t know if we can do it, create it, write it, paint it, grow it, bake it, plan it, make it. And yet there are times when we know we have to create for our very survival, write, paint, grow, bake, get on with it, express that part of ourselves demanding our attention whether we’re ‘good at it’ or not.
As a child I loved creative writing, and as a teenager I enjoyed writing poetry. I attempted writing a book but never got to the ending. At university I stuck with poetry, usually late at night when I was all alone, in that quiet and still time when others are asleep and the air is stiller somehow, smoking cigarettes or joints, making drinking wine, listening to Native America Indian music or Deep Forest or Pink Floyd, something that took me to a deeper part of myself, that was craving expression, my soul perhaps.
After university I joined ‘the real world’, as I was told, and any hope I had of making a career out of writing was short lived, there was a finance job instead, with professional exams and therefore endless studying that didn’t allow time for creative writing or much poetry. There was still poetry though. Generally drunken, despairing poetry, the soul dropping farther and farther away so that I barely recognised myself anymore, I’d even cut my hair short, corporate haircut.
Depression slipped in, it’s no surprise, I’ve always had a feeling the depression was the darkness of a life devoid of soul and creativity, suppressed, not allowed expression, dead to the world, treading water, heart sunken, joyless, even the poetry dropped away for a bit, tortured soul, breathe. PMS settled in, I wrote about this in the Tārā post, hormones all over the place, the creative voice deep within yearning for expression; the soul expresses itself creatively, is manifest in this world.
Yoga arrived finally and Reiki soon too, brought about by marathon running and the depression that overwhelmed me, and I’m grateful to whatever it was that called that in - we have to ask ourselves what is it that connects us to our destiny? It’s like the breathe, what calls that in? I’m grateful to whatever it is, angels, spirit, the sacred...we are all of us connected, energy. Even before then though, as I stated living more of my dream for travel, I started to write again, travel emails home and then an article for the local paper, poetry appeared again, but it was the yoga and Reiki that helped me to get over my insecurity slowly, slowly.
A year into my yoga practice I realised that all I wanted to do was travel the world, practice yoga and write about it, and that’s basically what I did for ten years, until Elijah appeared but even then we still kept travelling so I could practice and write about it. By then I had published articles in a couple of yoga magazines and other publications, but I still hadn’t managed to write a book, the ultimate dream, which lay heavily on me, felt like a weight, would I ever manage it one day?
I’d written the first draft of Namaste by then but I’d not taken kindly to the first edit, when the book was really in its infancy and I was in my infancy as an author and I set the book aside, concluded it wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t good enough, without truly appreciating that there is a process to creating and that’s it’s not an altogether easy or straightforward one, which will take you into that void where you just want to give up but you can’t give up, not really, not when you have already invested so much in it. But now I had a child to look after and a job in finance that took a lot of energy.
It was around then that Uma appeared in my life. I can’t remember the exact details now, which surprises me because I tend to remember those moments where something happens, someone comes in, and life changes. Regardless, I’m grateful to the ‘something’ that connected us, she was the answer to my prayers, bringing with her this beautiful womb yoga practice and yoga nidra. Both practices awoke something in me, made me listen to that deeper voice within that wouldn’t let me give up, that kept whispering in my ear that I needed to get back to writing, regardless of my other commitments, that I needed to prioritise it.
Elijah’s arrival, in my womb, the seat of our creation awoke something too, and even though we had conceived by IVF, there was still a deep creative process, the birth, crickey if ever there is a creative process let alone the pregnancy itself, taking me on a journey that I could never had expected, that was fraught with the unexpected what with the unknown and the uncertainty of full grade placenta previa and a clinical birth in a hospital, where I was gifted the opportunity to truly surrender, but I couldn’t, I kept holding on and on and on, until he was already born and still I held on.
I was too angry to write, anger suppresses my creativity, dampens my world, as if it puts out the fire that would otherwise burn brightly, causing the words to arrive and arrive, the paradox because fire feeds anger and anger feeds the fire, but not the fire of creative glow, not for me, I need water, watery water, tears are best, so that the words flow from that deeper glorious place, like the waves, no moment the same, timeless, time disappears, the rocks remain the same but the tide moves again, in and out, the moon glows overhead, day and night.
Dropping deeper into that space, creating new life, another pregnancy and by then a whole heap more yoga nidra and womb yoga and another book started to take shape, and then Eben’s arrival into the world. This too a pregnancy journey and a birth that brought with it the unexpected with waters breaking early on a full moon and another clinical birth ahead demanding a deep surrendering, the moon still glowing overhead, dancing in the garden in her light, contracting, and yet knowing it was now time.
La Gran’mère du Chimquière was visited and she spoke a language that my soul needed to hear. I still can’t be sure what drew me to her, but whatever it is I have learned to trust it, it led me to yoga, to Uma, to answered prayers, the world works in mysterious ways. The deep surrender followed, the letting go, giving in, being with it, a zillion thanks always to Heather Reed for her compassion and kindness, and for being still such a part of my life, there’s a magic that brings people together at just the right time, and this is the creative process. There is a timing. Uma writes about this:
“A crucial aspect of Matangi’s power is correct timing. To maximise the force of her power, the delivery of her observations and/or creative offerings needs to be perfectly timed and placed…It is this aspect of timing that links Matangi so directly to the preceding Mahāvidyā, Kamalātmikā. Because the creativity she manifests, just like the sexual energy liberated by Kamalātmikā, both utterly depend for their power on correct timing.
Just as there is no point in pressing a woman for sexual intercourse if she is too tired, or too premenstrual or otherwise at the wrong end of her particular cycle, so too there is no point in pushing for productivity in the reflective or evaluative phase of the creative cycle. Both siddhis – the capacity of sexual pleasure to lead us to experiences of cosmic loving connection, and the capacity of creativity to manifest with abundance – have their own particular cycles. Neither the natural flows of sexuality or creativity can be mapped by continuous linear progression. To receive the full power of either siddhi we need to respect the ebbs and flows of the cycles of their power”.
This recognition of the ebb and flow and the cycles of our creative potential is very true and there is absolutely a timing to it. The more I have embraced menstruation consciousness as a spiritual practice, the more I have recognised and embraced my cycle and the creative cycle which is intricately linked, so too then with the moon cycle and the cycle of nature and the ebb and flow of the light.
Scarvelli-inspired yoga with its emphasis on settling into the unknown and the uncertain has deepened the connection to the inherent creativity, so it has entered a whole other dimension. It’s not that it frees the voice necessarily, although it does do that, but that it frees more of the sacred and the soul and reveals more of that which was previously hidden and stuck and sets it free, beyond any limitation which we might have put in its way, our core beliefs that prevent us living life fully and lead to us trapping ourselves in a conditioned sense of right/wrong and good/bad. It is this that speaks to me when I read about Matangi. As Uma writes:
“In specific relation to the creativity of women, Matangi represents the power of women’s creative voices to overturn or unsettle patriarchal patterns of accepted female behaviours and opinions. She pushes the boundaries and extends the limits of our horizons, so that when we manifest the power of our creative energies we can express what has previously been prohibited or reviled, and we can reveal what was hidden and forgotten…
…Matangi knows the consequences of her revelation: she understands the power of saying what others fear to admit. She is fully aware of the position in which such observations place her and of her role as an object of fear and censure. So Matangi’s voice is brave, and terrifying to those who are constrained by fear to live their lives according to propriety and expectations. She rattles people, pokes holes in their comfortable boxes of convention, and embarrasses the cowed and silent by singing out loud and clear.”
It’s this aspect of Matangi that really draws me to her, stepping out of the box and having the courage and the strength to say it in a way that tries to awaken people and shake them from the binds that keep them enslaved and asleep, that prevents them from questioning and blindly following a path expected of them. We need more women to embrace Matangi and speak their truth, however uncomfortable that might be for everyone else, for patriarchy especially, so subtly entrenched in our society that we don’t even notice it, even us women, a victim to it.
Uma’s sharing is fascinating, for she helps me to see another side, awakens me to the extent that I too am limited by cultural expectations, as she shares: “Sadly, many limits and constraints have been placed by our culture upon women’s creativity. Traditionally almost every dimension of our capacity to create has been curtailed and controlled, with the possible exception of our capacity to birth and mind babies and to make homes and meals for our families and for the families of those who are richer and more powerful than us. Successive waves of feminist activism have brought welcome changes to this state of affairs, and certainly today having babies and cooking are no longer the only spheres of creativity in which women can be expressive. But this is a very recent shift.
Even in the traditionally acceptable spheres of women’s creativity, the domestic realms of childbirth and homemaking, and even now, when you get right up to the top level of power-holding, our culture tends to hand even these womanly expressions of creativity back over to the men and to value their contributions more highly than those of women. For although women may birth babies and midwives may help them, it is the (usually, male) obstetricians who get paid ten times the rate of the midwives, and make the policies in the birthing units and labour wards.
And though it is mostly women who are making homes and meals at the everyday, mundane level of getting food on the table every teatime and ensuring that the domestic environment is at least relatively non-toxic and that there is somewhere to sit down that is not covered in dirty laundry and Lego, most of the top paid TV celebrity chefs, restauranteurs and folks with their phots on the food packets tend to be men, and most of the wealthiest interior designers and retailers of home-making products, for example the CEOs of global homemaking powers like Ikea and Habitat, tend to be men. All this gives a clear message to women that although we may be creative in the domestic sphere, out there, what really matters, and where the big money is to be made, it’s a man world, just like everything else, and so to compete with the guys you needs to play the game their way or back out”.
And in the creative field it does sometimes feel as if there is a game to play, at least if you hope to earn any money from it. A few years ago I contacted Hay House publishing about publishing a book, having self-published thus far and I was told that it didn’t matter so much about the quality of the book, but on the number of social media followers I had, and at that time I had none as I had come off all social media so I got a big fat no! There’s a game to be played if you’re up for it, but there’s also another way, our own way, in our own time and with our own voice finding its way.
There is no doubt that the true creative process will take us into the unknown and the uncertain. The deep creative power that this process may reveal, as we explore more of those deep and luscious places within, will extend the boundaries of existing knowledge and present new perspectives to us that take us into those unknown and uncertain places within us! This can be both scary and messy and yet incredibly liberating, as we discover more of us than we had previously realised, stripping away our conditioning and setting ourselves free.
This process is not easy, as it breaks down our self-imposed boundaries, our conventional belief system and all we thought was real, the norm then, even if it is not serving us, but its known and certain and gives a sense of stability, until it is broken, so we cultivate courage and we learn to settle into the messiness instead, where life is infinitely more colourful, brighter lived, on an edge of madness and sheer brilliance, to know the soul, like Lalla, and dance, like the moon, in Uma’s words, “a visionary wild and free from social constraints of any kind”, like Matangi, prepared to stand up for what she believes, free, free, free.
Coronavirus and lockdown especially, with the emphasis on the unknown and the uncertain has ushered in this void of creative potential for those who have stepped away from the fear, the visionaries, those dancing, tapping the edge, exploring more of the space within. This is a time for Matangi, for people to speak up, be wild and free, and I am grateful to her for setting me free, for helping me to give voice to that which others won’t say, and for living life beyond the ordinary, for waking us up if we allow ourselves to be touched by the creative.
If you’re struggling creatively, you’ve written the book but you’re scared to edit it, you’ve drawn the picture but you’re anxious to share it, you have the business idea but you’re scared to turn it into reality, you’re trying to conceive but there’s something stopping you, you’ve turned your hand to baking but you worry others will reject your cakes, you’re keen to get growing but you don’t think you know enough, you’re keen to chant and sign but you don’t think you’re voice is good enough. If there’s some core belief getting in your way, some unhelpful core belief that makes you feel insecure, scared, anxious or somehow worried about your worthiness and how you will be received/judged by others, then you need to look at that.
It’s easy to put your head in the sand and just accept things as they are, but we are all of us inherently creative, it is part of being human and often the only thing getting in our way is us and our own insecurities. So step into them, notice all your excuses, look honestly at them, these obstacles, reframe them and get going, small steps so you won’t get overwhelmed. If you want to write, write, don’t worry about your audience or how you might write a best seller, just get writing, for the sheer love of it. It’s the same with all of it, do it because you love doing it, it doesn’t matter what anyone else things.
The soul seeks expression and will be so happy if you just get on with it. Start noticing your cycles too, because there will be a part of your cycle, whether you are menstruating or not there is still a cycle, where you will feel more in your creative space than at other times. So embrace those times and try not to force yourself to be creative when the time just doesn’t feel right. Go for a walk instead, lie on your mat and enjoy a yoga nidra. The time will come and then you just got to embrace it.