SUE MONK KIDD"S SPIRITUAL WRITINGS

Sue Monk Kidd, The Dance  of the Dissident Daughter: A Woman's Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine (New York: HarperOne, 1996, 2002) ("Today a lot of women are seeking feminine imagery of the Divine. More women than we can imagine have embarked on the quest, enough women to set in motion a whole shift in our religious paradigm. I've met countless numbers of women--married, divorced, and single, some of them Christian theologians and ministers but also insurance agents, real estate agents, nurses, students, psychologists, travel agents, schoolteachers, mothers who stay home and work, artists, writers, accountants, to only name a few--all of whom are talking passionately about the return of mother God or Sophia or Goddess. I've been struck by how these women's lives are anchored in the 'real' world, how bright and unique yet ordinary they are. The Divine Feminine is returning to collective consciousness, all right, She's coming, and it will happen whether we're ready or not." Id.  at  99. I think, perhaps unknowingly holding a Western bias, Kidd overstates the "returning" of the goddess, as she never left much of, for example, Indian religions. The West is rediscovering, and incorporating, the East. "I often recall the old grandmother in the movie Strictly Ballroom. Her granddaughter, along with a partner, want to dance a daring new dance that breaks with convention. They face a barrage of public opposition because of it, so much that they are about to back off. At this moment, the old grandmother steps forth, sets her iron jaw, looks into her granddaughter's eyes, and says, 'A life lived in fear is a life half lived.' I try to take that old woman with me at all times. In the end, refusing the fear is what gets us through oppositional experiences. Refusing to half-live our lives means going out there and daring our dance." Id. at 217.).

Sue Monk Kidd, Firstlight: The Early Inspirational Writings (New York: Penguin Books, 2006, 2007) ("Compassion often eludes me. I remember the time I wept before a television image of a homeless man living in an American gutter. Three weeks later I stepped over a homeless man on a sidewalk in New York without looking back. As I strode away, I had the odd feeling that somewhere someone was looking at me, waiting for an explanation." Id. at 67. "You can't force the heart. Genuine compassion cannot be imposed from without. It doesn't happen simply by hearing a sermon on love, or being sent on a loving mission. How often have we set out to love the world--or even more difficult, to love some tiresome, undeserving, mule-headed person on our street--and given up, feeling exasperated, unappreciated, used, tired, burned out, or just plan cynical? The point is, you don't arbitrarily make up your mind to be compassionate so much as you choose to follow a journey that transforms your heart into a compassionate space." Id. at 69.).

Sue Monk Kidd, God's Joyful Surprise: Finding Yourself Loved (New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 1987, 1989) ("Silence, Quietness. Stillness. Is there anything twentieth-century America neglects as much?" Id. at 30. And it has gotten much worse now in the second decade of the twenty-first century. "Listen with Sensitivity . . . Listen Like a Child . . . Listen with Expectancy . . . " Id. at 34-40.).

Sue Monk Kidd, The Mermaid Chair: A Novel (New York: Penguin Books, 2005, 2006).

Sue Monk Kidd, When the Heart Waits: Spiritual Direction for Life's Sacred Questions (New York: HarperOne, 1990, 2006) ("That was the moment the knowledge descended into my heart and I understood. Really understood. Crisis, change, all the myriad upheavals that blister the spirit and leave us groping--they aren't voices simply of pain but also of creativity. And if we would only listen, we might hear such times beckoning us to a season of waiting, to the place of fertile emptiness." Id. at 13. "It's amazing how many women remain stuck at this girlish level of development. It's understandable, though, when you realize how much around us encourages it. Everyone loves a pleaser. People who exhibit a mind of their own, straying form the status quo, are less welcome. Look at the life of Jesus. He wasn't a pleaser. Rather than adapt to expectations, he lovingly dared to be his own person. You see where it got him." Id. at 60. "I've wondered , too, if including the feminine in our picture of God might also help balance the logical, masculine intellect with the intuitive, feminine heart? Can it help us balance the dogma and theological approaches of religion with a revaluation of story and personal experience? Might it allow our feminine being to be as important as our masculine doing? Could a feminine metaphor of God help teach us to slowly grow the life of the Spirit inside us? Who better than a mothering God to teach us birth?" Id. at 189. But does not a mothering God, as does a fathering God, still have us as needy children in the metaphor?).

Sue Monk Kidd & Ann Kidd Taylor, Traveling with Pomegranates:: A Mother and Daughter Journey to the Sacred Places of Greece, Turkey, and France(New York: Penguin Books, 2009) ("[T]he first time I grasped that the image of a female could be a symbol of the divine. And Mary was her mother's daughter. I amended my opinion of her, coming to understand that she'd inherited the role of the ancient Goddesses, however sublimate their earthiness, grit, and authority had become in her. The human soul needs a divine mother, a feminine aspect to balance out the masculinity of God, and yes, Mary had carried it off the best she could." Id. at 49. "'Have you seen this quote by George Sand? "The old woman I shall become will be quite different from the woman I am now. Another I is beginning"' I copied the quotation on page one of the green journal. The fact that it came from a French writer born here in Paris and a subversive woman of courage was mere gravy. Another I is beginning." Id. at 143. "It does not escape my notice that Mary is becoming important to me. I tell myself that if Athena represents independence and self-belonging, and Joan of Arc a passionate sense of mission, then Mary represents the spiritual heart--my ability to love and be loved. Athena, Joan, Mary. It's an unlikely combination, but I realize they've become my female triptych." Id. at 206-207.).