What Is Art Medicine?
Healing and Transformation through the Art Medicine Path
Getty/Prostock-Studio
We men make a lot of assumptions about ourselves. Here’s a particularly dangerous one: that being spiritual makes us safe.
When I say “men,” I mostly mean straight, cisgender males who have not yet examined how their internalized patriarchy manifests as subtle-to-overt entitlement, sexism, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, dominance, and violent thoughts and actions.
We assume that these are the qualities of “bad” men, of “unenlightened” men, of men who have not embraced the “Divine Feminine.” No. These are also qualities of “good” men, of “awake” men, of men who devote countless hours to expanding their “spiritual consciousness.”
We assume that being a spiritual man automatically makes us a “good” man. Again, no. Being spiritual does not magically dissolve our male fragility and male privilege; that’s not how our unconscious, unexamined, internalized biases work. The number of spiritual and religious “gurus” that have been and continue to be embroiled in sexual scandals—virtually all male, by the way—is telling. And let’s call a “scandal” what it really is: abuse of power for sexual dominance.
We assume that spiritual people are self-aware people; another misguided and dangerous line of thinking. Too often, awareness of the spiritual Self becomes a proxy for self-examination of the human self, perhaps because we were taught that the spiritual Self transcends—is superior to—the human self, so developing our spiritual nature is the cure-all to what ails our human nature. Not quite. Our ability to make it through a 10-day silent Vipassana retreat or hold all the Ashtanga yoga poses does not mean we don’t perpetuate injustices and harm others. I know yoga teachers who make their homes in alt-right spaces.
Just as we are both spiritual and human beings, we have to do both spiritual and human work. Deconstructing and decolonizing ourselves (examining, questioning, and changing the oppression-rooted beliefs that power our thoughts, words, and actions) is challenging and lifelong human work. It begins, however, with believing that we need to do it in the first place; that regardless of how “good” we are, we operate from and view the world through cultural norms that we did not consciously choose to take on as our own.
For millennia, even before patriarchy was named and recognized for its toxic and destructive influence alongside capitalism and white supremacy, men have considered themselves superior to women. We exerted power over women, treating them as chattel fit for not much more than bearing children and preparing meals. It wasn’t always this way. Matriarchal and gender-equal communities once dominated across primate species—including humans—and still exist in a few far-flung corners of the world. Anthropologists and philosophers have yet to discover a definitive reason why the power shift occurred, but for the most part, humanity was never again woman-centered or even egalitarian.
No aspect of society was exempt from male domination, including spiritual and religious spaces. So, while the teachings themselves might not favor one gender over another, gender hierarchy exists within the communities that house the teachings. Some religions and denominations only allow women very limited positions of leadership and authority, if any at all. Those that do often treat women with an air of indulgence, condescension, and tokenism. Ask any woman in a male-dominated space how many times she has been interrupted; how often her views were co-opted and repeated by a man mere seconds later; about the tone she needs to adopt to not come across as “emotional” and “shrill;” or the ways she has to disguise her femininity to not be too much of a “distraction.”
A distraction to whom? Men who can’t or don’t want to control or be accountable for their sexual impulses, then place the blame and responsibility on women. Despite centuries of proclaiming to be the stronger gender, we men have a habit of placing undeserved and excessive labor on women. The labor imposed on them comes in all forms: physical, psychological, and emotional. We don’t even realize we’re doing it. “Good” men open up to the women in their lives under the guise of being vulnerable, often putting them—often nonconsensually—in the position of unofficial therapist instead of working with an actual professional to process their emotions.
Many spiritual men believe that by embracing their Divine Femininity, they are no longer sexist or misogynist. Unfortunately, the idea of Divine Gender is problematic. Consider the words often used to describe the Divine Masculine: protective, disciplined, authoritative, guiding, resilient, mature, responsible, commanding, logical, stoic, relentless, confident, committed, and willful. Now, compare those to words used to describe the Divine Feminine: intuitive, heart-centered, compassionate, wise, accepting, forgiving, collaborative, reflective, creative, sensual, kind, and gentle.
Did we just project traditional gender roles and characteristics onto Divinity? Can’t the feminine (woman) be just as protective and resilient? Can’t the masculine (man) be just as gentle and sensual? You’re probably thinking, “But these are all in us regardless of our gender.” Then why are they still separated? Since gender is a spectrum, how about scrapping the division and calling them all traits of Divine Queerness? Better yet, how about we stop creating God in our image?
As long as oppressive behaviors like binary thinking exist in us and our spiritual teachings, they will eventually manifest in some way—usually to the detriment of minoritized folks like women, people of color, queer people, and people with disabilities. The path to healthy masculinity begins by asking how, not if, we men individually and collectively perpetuate the patriarchy.
Let me throw myself under the bus, too: I am a cisgender, polysexual, polyamorous man who still has internalized traits of patriarchy that I always need to be aware of, like a sense of entitlement around sex, assumptions around gender roles, and the habit of equating my masculinity with sexual and romantic prowess or physical strength and appearance.
Here’s another assumption, a hope really: We men—especially us spiritual men—want to make the world a safer place where everyone, regardless of gender, experiences true liberation from oppression. That journey begins with us and our inner work beyond spiritual practices. We already have all we need within us to do the work. We just need to want to.
Learn how men can align themselves with lunar cycles to connect more deeply with the Divine.
Get this article and many more delivered straight to your inbox weekly.