How to Receive Your Blessings without Pissing off the Universe

Glitter isn't cooties!

• Gold Bootie shorts: Check!

• Cute Gay Baseball hat: Check!

• Cropped Unicorn Tank: Check!

My queer, non-binary friend and I have gotten up early to go to Portland Pride.

We are prepared to share glitter blessings with the marchers.

Unexpected rain dribbles down on our PRIDE outfits. 

I feel well prepared.

I've given plenty of glitter blessings and received quite a few myself.

My friend is a non-denominational chaplain, and their organization has provided biodegradable glitter in a gel base and a little written card with a blessing we can read.

m jade barclay and anna k blaedel of enfleshed, a spiritual care organization that creates and facilitates spiritual resources for collective liberation through writing, art, contemplative practices, workshops, and other creative resources, define blessings: 

"Blessings are ancient. They are expansive. They have radical potential. They belong to everyone. They do not belong to any one tradition…. A blessing is an invitation to feel the larger web of life, the lifeforce, the love that dwells in the depths." 

This is the frame I'm holding, dancing through the raindrops to bring blessings to the queers.

People are readying themselves for the parade.

We quickly learn that people on their way somewhere will not stop to receive a blessing.

As we wander, we receive a few " No, thank yous." 

Finally, I see a group of trans folks circled under a trans banner.

Surely, someone there will appreciate a blessing. 

We enter the circle of about ten trans folks, and I ask, "Would anyone here like a glitter blessing?" 

There is dead silence for a few seconds before one young person says, "No, I don't want a fucking blessing."

They look like they want to spit, or punch me. 

I am shocked by their vehemence and rudeness.

Without pausing and considering what words I should say, these words come out of my mouth:

"Isn't it interesting how we refuse our blessings?" 

I stare right at them until they look towards the ground. 

"Would anyone else like a blessing?" my friend asks.

The moment is supercharged and tense.

A line has been drawn.

Although we are all some kind of trans, we are on opposite sides of the blessing line. 

I am surprised at how long my friend waits for an answer.

They are not letting this crew off the hook that easily.

It seems like hours, but probably only 45 seconds. 

Finally, a brave soul steps forward. "I would like a glitter blessing."

My friend faces them to give the blessing.

At that moment, the person I had interacted with slinks to the side and hisses,

"Glitter is like catching cooties." 

Without missing a beat, and like an Auntie to a misguided toddler, my friend coos,

"Oh no dear, this is biodegradable glitter." 

My heart is pounding as we all silently watch the person receive a blessing.

The blessing is beautiful; it is all about letting their light shine and sharing their sparkle with the world. 

But I am grabbed inside.

• I do not use shame to teach. 

• I am rarely confrontational. 

• I respect consent, and a no is always a no. 

• I have a strong brain-mouth filter. 

• Words coming out of my mouth without choice disturb me. 

• I gave this new adult a verbal slap-down. 

• They were met with the energy they brought.

• Was Spirit speaking through me?

I feel shaky as we walk away. 

Interestingly, our next encounter was with a group of gay Episcopalians.

I approached with the same question, "Would you like a glitter blessing?"

An older gay man stepped towards us.

"Oh honey, you know I never refuse a blessing!"

---

I walk around the festival feeling angry at the person who refused so rudely.

I feel angry that they don't yet have the skills of setting a boundary while staying connected.

They could have been polite, "No, or even, "No thanks."

No need to be energetically aggressive.

I feel angry at the system that made them suspicious of kindness offered.

I feel angry at the world that trans people are not safe enough where they can accept a sweet gesture from other trans people.

I feel angry about glitter hate. 

---

But really, why do we resist our blessings? 

I can think of all kinds of reasons, and most lead back to trauma.

It doesn't feel safe to our system to let in goodness.

We are committed to suffering, rather than pleasure. 

I muse on this for the rest of PRIDE weekend.

I commit to being open to receive my blessings, however then show up.

I consider strange blessings I received that have had profound positive impact on my life. 

The man missing an arm who asked me for a dollar on Haight Street right before I went into a custody hearing.

When he took the ragged bill from my fingers, he threw his arm around me and whispered in my ear "A hug from a one-armed beggar is a blessing." 

I maintained custody of my kids.

The moment I shared with a dear friend telling him about a moment I had enacted physical violence, something I felt deep shame and regret about.

He responded, love shining from his eyes, "We all have the capacity to be violent, Pavini."

His words were a balm, a blessing my soul needed to come back to self-trust. 

---

Blessings come in many forms.

Perhaps the words that moved through me were the blessing that person needed to hear.

Maybe saying no was a blessing to them.

Maybe they needed a wake-up call from a trans elder to level up their receiving skills.

I will never know, so I must have faith that what happened was necessary.

But I know this: being rude when offered a blessing is not good magick.

If you flip off the bearer of a blessing, what happens to the blessings flowing your way? 

I don't want to refuse my blessings.

I want to welcome them in, feel gratitude for the receiving of goodness.

Also, glitter is beautiful. 

What is something for you that you didn't initially receive as a blessing, but upon reflection you see the deep magick at work in your life?