Saint Joan of Arc (10th Post)

Desperate to solve the puzzle of me, I was continually on the lookout for any type of assistance, possible solutions, or a miracle….especially the latter. On my search to complete my mission, I began to understand inspiration could come from any person, place, or thing. I also learned when inspiration arrived it elicited such a magical feeling inside - wonder - and for me, that feeling never got old.  Wonder was always bright, shiny, and exciting. Little did I ever dream wonder would arrive one day on horseback, dressed in battle armor, and holding a sword.

Catholics participate in a ceremony called Confirmation. Usually, Confirmation occurs when they are a teenager. The purpose of Confirmation is for the church to bestow upon the participants' gifts from the Holy Spirit. And no, I do not know what that means even though I was confirmed. Over time, I came to understand the catholic church did not explain things -  they merely dictated them. I also learned the hard way not to ask questions. In 9th-grade religion class, the nun was discussing how we all had to be good for God. I raised my hand and said - why do we have to be good for God - why are we just not good because it makes life better between people? The nun was furious. She yelled at me to come and stand in front of the class. Once I did, she directed the class to take out their rosaries and pray for me. Normally, I would have felt humiliated. However, by now, I was more than over being humiliated by the nuns. Instead, I was enraged. It took everything in me to suppress the feeling. TBI rage is different from normal anger and/or rage. Due to the brain damage, I did not have brakes in my frontal lobe. That meant I was only using my limbic system which governs fight, flight, or freeze survival instincts. Thus, the anger is very intense. I go from 0 to 100 in a nanosecond. However, when I am in that state I feel like it is normal anger.  I only know it is not as people REALLY react to my attitude, energy, tone of voice - my whole presentation….and not in a good way.  People would respond to my type of anger in one or more of the following ways. People would literally physically recoil, tell me my anger was too intense or extreme, or say nothing and later ghost me/shun me. Only then, would I realize I was somehow in the wrong? I would feel so frustrated and sad since I thought I had been acting like them when they had been angry. I was unable to feel or understand the difference between my anger and theirs. Therefore, I did not know how to fix myself. The only thing I could think to do was to just try and not show or express my anger. Therefore, that day with the nun in religion class, I focused on suppressing anger. I said nothing to her.  After I calmed down I swore to myself I would never, ever, ask another question in religion class. More importantly, as soon as I could I would leave the catholic church forever. 

In the meantime, there was my Confirmation ceremony.  Part of the ceremony is the participant picks a Saint they like. Then they incorporate the Saint’s name as a part of their own name. The purpose of taking the saint’s name is to be inspired by the life of the saint and to be a better servant of the church. My parents bought books -“Lives of the Saints” for me to review.  However, I was not impressed. By that time I had endured a lot of suffering.  Most of the Saints were martyrs who suffered terrible deaths for God. Why someone would die for a God who was powerless to intervene and save them was a mystery to me. Plus, I was on a mission to end my suffering.  And then I read about St. Joan of Arc.  Actually, I had been hooked when I saw her picture on the first page. She was magnificent. She was seated on a horse, wearing full body armor, holding a sword aloft, and followed by an army of men.  Then I read her story, and like me, she was on a mission. Inspiration flooded my body.  I had not only found my Saint I had a warrior role model. 

I read every book I could find about Joan of Arc.  My middle name was Lorraine and I learned Joan of Arc had been born in the city of Lorraine. Nice kismet, huh?  Sadly though, she was betrayed by the catholic church. That certainly did not surprise me.  She had been declared a witch and burned at the stake by the same King and people she was defending. Note to self - never fight for narcissistic men, cowards, or misogynists. I find it a total miracle many years after her murder, the church canonized her as a Saint.

I was confirmed Joan of Arc. Ironically, she did not inspire me to serve the church. She did, however, inspire me to leave - forever. And, she did inspire me to continue my quest to solve the puzzle of me, be a warrior, and fight the good fight. I read one legend about her that said at the stake where they burned Joan of Arc they found her heart in the ashes. Her heart was intact and not even singed.  There are lots of theories why her heart did not burn.  Here is my theory; I believe it was because she followed her heart so truly  - no matter what. And so, to honor her commitment to her heart, her heart showed the world even in death it would not forsake her. 

Unlike Joan of Arc, I never owned a horse. However, many years later I purchased a beautiful Spanish sword at a Renaissance Festival.  The sword hangs below a Navajo War Lance I bought in Arizona. Certainly, I will probably never be canonized, Saint Alesia Willow Montana. However, after living 3/4 of my life, I did finally solve the puzzle of me. I know Joan of Arc is proud of me. I know I honored her name and her story. Joan of Arc lived in difficult times. I will forever be grateful to Joan of Arc for finding a way to become the person she wished to be.