From Covenant Path to Coven Path
When you’re raised Mormon, patriarchal blessings are a big deal. Think of it as a cross between the Sorting Hat, putting you into a house with specific characteristics, and revelation that can feel like low-key fortunetelling. It’s meant to provide you with insight and guidance. I received mine when I was 12. My grandfather, a patriarch, was widely known for his detailed and insightful blessings. For years I looked to it for comfort and direction. But at a certain point, most of it no longer served me. Maybe it was being the only active member left in my immediate family. Maybe it was the divorce. Either way, what had once been a road map and an ode to the eternal family felt obsolete at best and a cruel taunt at worst. But I missed what it once gave me: hope, counsel, and a feeling of being known by the divine.
When I realized I needed more inspiration and direction, I decided to do something about it. I reached out to my cousin Mattson (@mattsonm) who has been very deliberate in his spiritual journey, eventually apprenticing with a shaman in the New Mexico desert. He reads tarot cards (among other spiritual practices) and I have seen enough of his proficiency to know that he inherited the gift of our grandfather: the ability to tease the veil and communicate what he senses. I reached out to him and said I was expanding my journey from what I’ve jokingly heard called the Covenant Path to the “Coven Path,” seeking women’s ways of knowing. I explained to him my frustration at the limitation of my patriarchal blessing. We laughed at the irony of me seeking a man to help me access a matriarchal blessing. But just as women can be the staunchest defenders of male power, Mistresses of Patriarchy if you will, so too can men be in concert with divine feminine and spiritual practices honed by women over millennia.
Given that we live in different states, we set up a session via Zoom. I was a bit skeptical of that medium at first. As a therapist I do sessions both in person and teletherapy and I prefer being in the same room as my client. But the way Mattson sets it up, the camera is arranged so I only see the cards and his hands, helping me feel more present and allowing me to stay focused on the process. Plus he recorded the session and shared it after. I have gone back and rewatched it several times now and love that I can do that.
If you are unfamiliar with reading cards, there are lots of ways they are used. Some people pull a card for daily insight. Some approach the cards with a specific question. For our session, Mattson shuffled the cards and then spread them into a circle like the frame of a mirror or the edges of a pond. In the center he placed one card then four sets of three–north, south, east, west–that surround that central card, with a total of 13. The center represents current reality and each of the directions is an “exegesis of how you got here;” they warn of obstacles and offer insight, guidance and possible resources. Not terribly different from a traditional blessing in this respect. But unlike a patriarchal blessing, this maternal reading was interactive: Mattson regularly asked me questions and my answers helped him interpret what he saw, making me feel a co-author to the experience.
I won’t share what was illuminated for me any more than I would reveal what my patriarchal blessing said. But I will share that the process itself was powerful and I feel seen by God in new ways. I think this is partially because of the connection I feel to my cousin, that he has witnessed some of the hardships in my life and was able to address them directly. Looking back, I know now that at the time of that original blessing, my grandpa’s life was imploding. Could he glimpse my similar trials and hope he could speak a smoother path into being? Did it serve me to have a shiny celestial blessing at 12 and now, mid-fifties, to embrace a more terrestrial one?
As Mormon women, we receive mixed messages about our agency. “Speak up” we are told, but don’t be outspoken. I told my very devout mother what I was going to do and I could tell it stressed her out. She wants me to seek inspiration, but through traditional ways. Back in Nauvoo when Joseph was about to be imprisoned, Emma asked for a blessing and he instructed her to write her own which he would later sign, sanctifying her words. But he never had the chance. Emma considered the blessing divine regardless and I love the idea of acting on our own behalf, not waiting on others for deliverance. I learned this story from my mother, who often told about the women in our ancestral lines, like Lydia Knight leaving a bad marriage to join the saints, eventually making it across the plains despite Brigham taking her wagon and team of cattle and giving it to someone else. Twice. A few years ago we discovered we are descendants of Rebecca Nurse, accused of witchcraft and hanged during the Salem Witch Trials. Women of power and faith who were determined and resourceful. I come from strong women who crossed oceans and plains, supported families on their own, and stood their ground when challenged.
Am I that different from Emma, seeking inspiration and guidance during a time of trial, imbuing words with power in the hopes of finding solace? The longer I am on the journey, the more I recognize the variety of sources that can aid me in my quest for knowledge and connection with God. I don’t believe I am forsaking my faith or my grandfather, but expanding it. I am not turning my back on the gospel, but using all my senses to absorb the good news. Let me share a quote from Lavina Fielding Anderson—a matriarch, a wise woman, a fellow seeker of the divine—whose words both warn and exhort Mormon women: “I feel that we may have circumscribed our limits too narrowly. Our birthright is joy not weariness, courage not caution, and faith not fear. By covenant and consecration, may we claim it.” Like a prophecy, those words are inscribed in my heart; I use them to guide me on my path—sometimes straight and narrow, sometimes twisty and wide, and always leading me home.
