Author: Darcy

Beyond glossy tabloids and sensational pop music, #FreeBritney is the tremulous battle for the soul of America’s daughters. Along with her voice, America’s battered sweetheart raises a timeless question regarding forced care (institutionalization), reproductive rights, and freedom.

And so much more.

She is the abused. Downtrodden. Outcast and shamed.

The post-partum mother whose perfection stumbled.

The obedient daughter ravaged by stolen power.

Between the contrasting sheen of blonde locks, limelight and deep stage shadow, Britney’s heart-wrenching plea to regain control of her own life without needing another psychiatric evaluation is a deep cry for the soul of America’s feminine, feeling function. An appeal to acknowledge her trauma without further sacrifice on the cold altar of over-medication and unspeakable manipulation.

Instead of looking away, how do we tend to this moment, with recognition that the daughters of our nation are watching? Even though it’s really none of our business, her initial “breakdown” in 2008 was purportedly related to post-partum delicacy in a high stress and paparazzi frenzied world. Considering the reproductive control aspect, and the history of sedating an emotional Britney, reflection on the term hysteria feels appropriate in the continued fight for Britney’s freedom.  

The concept of hysteria is an ancient and controversial one. Dating back millenia, one Greek translation is wandering uterus, a diagnostic tool enabling ancient healers to address imbalances in the body and mind. Freud, however, brought the term to its most controversial infamy in his work with women. He utilized the term to indicate a concurrence of symptoms and concerns based in somatization (symptoms in the body) and high levels of emotionality. It continued to be a stamp of dismissal. With the diagnosis in place, anything a woman shared was approached first with skepticism, and sedation a foremost practice in treatment. If high levels of emotion were present, they were met with higher levels of sedation and control.

In the modern world of psychological thought, the term hysteria is now shunned by many feminists and feminine allies as a misogynistic term coined to control.

Yet the horrifying revelations of the Free Britney movement make it very clear that the underlying misogyny is still in place. Without needing to extract the details, it is crystal clear that Britney Spears has been living in a nightmare world. She has been stripped of autonomy over her own finances, career, body and life.  

As I listen nostalgically to Britney’s first album, reminiscing on the purity of her youthful expression, it is impossible to miss the poison lacing her life, even then. Were her early box office hits eerily prophetic? Or already primed to capture the dynamics ruling her world from a young age.

Hit Me Baby One More Time.
Toxic.
I’m A Slave 4U.

Will Britney just continue to be another tragically fallen heroine, abruptly dragged from the golden pedestal of celebrity culture, and remembered for her “mental illness”? Though extreme and heartbreaking, Britney’s story is not unique.

Understanding the weaponized use of hysteria and mental illness and its impact on both ancient and modern society is an important step towards reclaiming the dismissed aspects of the feminine, in Britney and ourselves. In acknowledging the feeling function, the body function, and the intuitive function. Speaking up for truth, even when there is only a slight thread to find. Asking more questions when something feels amiss.

If poring over the details of Britney’s brave statement feels voyeuristic, perhaps today you can honor Britney’s bravery by allowing yourself to feel a little more deeply. What feelings arise as you consider the legal and ethical atrocities studding her world? Rage? Fear? Sadness? Numbness?

Be with whatever shows up. Ground into the breath. Listen to your body, especially if discomfort arises.

In the midst of humanity’s most epically proportioned time, the life of a single woman can be the stone cast, rippling forward into a more humane and conscious relationship with body, mind, and each other. Dismantling celebrity culture and male-oriented systems of power, and lending our voices to those who have been silenced.

When I was 13, I shyly admired Britney’s bravado and style. At 17, I respected her ownership of sass and sexuality. Now 34 year old me is overcome with tenderness and support for Britney’s budding resilience, and the quiet courage grounding every word she says. She put it best:

“Stronger”

Hush, just stop
There’s nothing you can do or say, baby
I’ve had enough
I’m not your property as from today, baby
You might think that I won’t make it on my own
But now I’m
Stronger than yesterday

Last week I drove into a rainbow, and it has changed my life. Winding along the fertile hills of the central California coast, I was a mess. Headed home after another intense and transformative session at Pacifica Graduate Institute (psychotherapy), the first fingers of dread were fastening in: the pandemic was here. Struggling to breathe as the panic swelled, I turned around a corner on the highway. Suddenly, electric, there shone a perfect rainbow. Bowing down from a darkened mass of storm, it landed squarely in the middle of the interstate. Hurtling towards it, 77 mph, framed by the cars around me, I remembered to wonder briefly: What lies at the end of a rainbow?

Pelting rain buffeted my little white Prius. Blinded by the storm, wipers frantic to keep up, I kept my gaze focused on the radiance ahead. With every wheel-turn closer, the tempest more loudly raged. Until, and just for the briefest of moments, I drove into the rainbow.

Amidst the shattering chaos of the storm, breath paused with wonder, I was held at the base of its light. Between the iron cast sky and asphalt black with rain, a miniature rainbow formed in the center of my windshield. My car filled with a subtle sunset hue.

And as quickly as it came, I was on the other side. Somewhat stunned, all the cars surrounding me slowed to a crawl, all shaking our heads with awe. Glancing back in the rearview, I felt deeply connected with these other drivers, and a wave of peace arrived. I began to weep, filled with an unspeakable comfort. Is this how Noah’s wife felt, when she beheld a new, still broken world? The trees and grasses deepened by the rain. Nature endlessly striding forward, a mother knowing best.

Today, amidst the torrential downpour of fear and chaos, in the shattering of our known lives, I remember that rainbow. I remember Nature’s beauty. I remember the ancient ways in which the land spoke and humans listened, humble. As my cells were taught in a span of moments, even cradling unspeakable loss and terror, we are surrounded by grace. Especially when we least can see it, we are cradled in its light.

So my dear friends, in these coming days may you know strength and resiliency. In the coming weeks may you find compromise and comfort. And in the coming months, and even years to follow, may peace shine onto your path when you least expect it. 

As winter’s inky darkness enfolds each hurried day, and we near the longest night of the year, I sit and encounter the sacredness of “no”. In a season and world in which over-extension is the norm, the badge upon which our success is mounted, I rediscover my power in consciously choosing otherwise. Though technology’s pull is strong and insistent, and the natural world an afterthought for most, today I remember my ability to choose stillness. It is a privilege, truly. And we all know the classic adage: “with privilege comes responsibility”. So now, here, I choose to honor the seasonal tug to turn inward, to seek quiet, to honor the darkness.

Ayurveda, the Vedic science of life, reminds of the constant need for balance. Our bodies, our minds, our beings are a reflection of the natural cycles around us. When we ignore the natural cycles, disruption and disease set in. Much like Chinese Medicine, Ayurveda is an elemental system, comprised of 5 elements (earth, water, fire, air, ether). These 5 elements combine to make 3 doshas, or constitutions. Early winter (and late fall) is the season of vata dosha, of air and ether. Vata rules the nervous system, the joints, and the colon, and is ruled by the qualities of movement, lightness, dryness. When vata is out of balance, we can feel scattered, anxious, unhinged, and experience constipation, bloating, lower back pain and much more. Vata is really the trouble maker of the doshas, and most commonly out of balance. Soothing vata means balancing its qualities, because “like increases like and opposites balance”. So finding gentle, regular activities. Enjoying warm liquids, soups, and stews. Minimizing caffeine and other nervous-system stimulants. Staying hydrated and nourished with warm oil massage and baths. And most importantly, not over-extending.

In this dark season, we would hope that hibernation is the cue. Yet the holidays are filled with more. More shopping, more food, more company, more obligations. So this year, in the midst of my over-flowing platter, I am consciously choosing my “no’s”.

To be sure, it’s not an easy road, and the pitfalls are many. The inner critic’s constant blaring horn: “Lazy! Selfish! Blahblahblah”. The judgmental stare of a society and culture that exalts obedience, submission and the myth of progress.

And the obligations pile on, with resentment trailing close behind. Bodies and minds break down, systems fail, and still we are programmed to say yes without thought; to push for expansion without seeking renewal.

So it was no surprise when suddenly there came a day when I simply turned inward. “No, critic. Hush.” I said. “I can hear you just fine if you use your indoor voice. And today, despite your insistence, I am saying no. No to fear. No to worry. No to caring more about others’ opinions than my own needs. Care to join me?”

So together, my recently befriended critic and I embark on wobbly newborn legs, standing up to the fear of letting down, or being let go. Remembering that it takes courage to take care of oneself, and from this tenderly held place we can fully choose “YES!”. With this conscious “yes” tucked in a warm place, we gather ourselves in the soothing darkness, lending ourselves to renewal over and over again.