When I started mindonfire many internet generations ago, I felt like each post submitted was like a note-stuffed bottle tossed into the dark sea of web-humanity. Incredibly, messages came back–not Sting’s “hundred million bottles,” but a few poignant notes from other castaways and drifters on the same great spiritual ocean.

Many of my favorite messages come from a mindonfire regular, Miko. Not only is she articulate and insightful (and yet blogless!), but we seem to struggle with similar tensions between spirituality and religion/politics/feminism. I know that a number of us describe ourselves as pilgrims, and Miko is the consummate spiritual traveller. To top it all off, Miko is just plain cool. But I’ll leave it to her to reveal the details of her coolness to you.

Miko describes herself as:

…a recovering Catholic who discovered feminism relatively recently. I currently live with my husband, two cats, and enough material possessions that I’m embarrassed. I come from a very large family and this has influenced the way I think about many things. Since I quit my job (ostensibly to study), I’ve been able to spend more time thinking; I believe in Aristotle’s scale of morality and when I remember to, I like to think of myself as a pagan. Sometimes I prefer the term “heathen”. I think that every American president should have a Historian in Chief and that every American should vote. I have issues with imperial measurements and believe that tea should be loose.

So, without further ado, here’s Miko!

I don’t recall what exactly led me to Mind on Fire. The other feminist blog that I read is the Well-Timed Period and the other former-Mormon blog that I read is dooce. Either of which may or may not have linked me to a Carnival of Feminists which I believe included Mind of Fire.

What kept me here, however, was something that I did not find in other places: acknowledgment that spirituality could have a place in the life of a feminist. I grew up in a family that was very religious and while I never could understand just what it was that they were feeling that I clearly wasn’t, deep inside me is a spirituality that won’t be denied.

As I slowly realized that I could be a good person even if I wasn’t a Catholic, I began exploring other religions. As I began to realize that right-wing political views might also not be the healthiest for me, I explored different political theories, eventually moving far enough left that I now listen to NPR (”and,” she whispered, glancing furtively around, “occasionally KPFK.”). Religion and politics are still very much entwined for me: I think that’s why I drifted left from Democrat to Green.

I’ve discovered that there are two main camps of feminists: secular humanists and pagans. In the one camp, there seems to be no place for acknowledgment of the divine in anyone or anything. In this camp are scientists and scholars who know that most mainstream religions explicitly or implicitly exclude or denigrate women and that, therefore, religion is the enemy. In the other camp are those who, like me, need some kind of spirituality in their lives. Unfortunately, this frequently takes the form of Dianic (or near-Dianic) Wicca, which cannot acknowledge the divine in men, or sometimes, in anything but women. As a feminist who needs spirituality but at the same time recognizes that her husband is, foremost, her partner, her equal, I didn’t really seem to belong in either camp.

John’s recent posts about the Spiritual Left defines what I found here at Mind on Fire. I’m still in the process of sorting out precisely what it is that I believe, but at the same time, there are certain things I’m not willing to give up. Partnership and equality in relationships is one. And so I read the Well-Timed Period and agree with the facts she posits. But I also read Matrifocus and cringe when Dianics contribute.

I’d like to name myself a pilgrim, without being a copycat, to acknowledge that my spiritual/political/feminist journey is far from over. And, the Divine willing, never will be.