Review: The Red Book by Sera Beak

On a cursory inspection you could dismiss The Red Book by Sera Beak as yet another foray into the world of pop spirituality, a symbol-sampler-platter for the Sex and the City crowd whose Bible is the latest Cosmo and who considers shoe shopping the holy of holies. You could say it's another attempt at injecting something meaningful into the essentially meaningless framework of popular culture.

You could say that.

But if you say that, well, I would have to say you're a moron.

I am in love with this book. I didn't want to be--I am, after all, a bit of a snob when it comes to spiritual writing, and I tend to be a very harsh critic on anything that even touches the skin of my religion. The book literally fell into my hands at the store, and despite all snobbery to the contrary, I had to have it; within five pages, I was enraptured.

Sera Beak is, as certain of my contemporaries might say, a spiritual magpie. She's studied just about every religion out there, attended ceremonies in countries all over the world, and read a variety of sacred and profane texts which have all influenced her own spirituality.

In other words, don't let the upbeat we're-all-girls-together tone of The Red Book fool you: Sera Beak has done her homework.

The eclectic, dynamic spirituality portrayed in The Red Book: a Deliciously Unorthodox Approach to Igniting Your Divine Spark isn't some choose-your-own-adventure thing where you swipe the best, sparkliest, and easiest parts of whatever religion tickles your fancy that week. The Red Book is a guide aimed at 20s-and-30s young women who have lost their connection--or their patience--with the big patriarchal religions, and are looking for something personal, authentic, and alive.

Beak advocates a magical blend of active prayer, meditation, dreamwork, humor, rituals, altar-building, great sex, and introspection to create the perfect spiritual soufflé for you as an individual. Her work is influenced by everything from Zen to Pronoia, the Dalai Lama to dirty martinis. However, Beak makes it clear that it's not all glitter and chakra tattoos:

Know this: igniting my divine spark has also kicked my ass five ways from Sunday. My ordinary perceptions are constantly challenged. My limits are made clear, then broken open. I cannot play safe or dumb or keep myself cocooned or judgmental…It's not always pretty. It's definitely not always fun. Truth sets me free, but it can sometimes hurt like a thousand bee stings and a bad colonic.

I think it was Beak's mix of humor, funk, and mysticism that first drew me into The Red Book, and rendered me unable to put it down once I'd read the introduction. A great many religious traditionalists would cry havoc over her lack of commitment to one established faith, and there was a time I would have agreed--but the older I get the more I see past the boundaries between religions, and see to the core of them, where the above practices unite all people of a spiritual bent.

As Beak points out, tradition should be respected and studied, but what do you do when your spirit calls you outside the normal boundaries? What if the Goddess Erishkigal comes to you and tells you to cast a Circle using Sanskrit chants and then dance ecstatically to Native American drumming? Who are you to tell Her She's being culturally irresponsible? Beak says,

How do you know if you're being spiritually materialistic? Again, be responsible. Don't treat spirituality like a cute accessory. Take the time to figure out what the symbols and practices actually mean.  Do some research, and show them their proper reverence.

Amen, sister. I'd love to pour that passage down the glitter-drenched throats of some of my co-religionists.

This isn't a book about Wicca, I should point out, although Beak has learned quite a bit about us too. She advocates reclaiming the Goddess as part of our culture, and most of her ideas mesh beautifully with the Wicca that I practice and teach. In fact I plan to include it in the recommended reading for the EarthDance Fundamentals curriculum (once there is a curriculum, anyway).

Really, intermediate to advanced practitioners might not get much out of The Red Book--most of its lessons, I already knew. What made it such a wonderful read even for a 13-year-old Witch is the language. Beak's writing is like spiritual kindling; I dare you to read her words and not come away re-energized about whatever religion you practice, and dying to try out at least one idea or practice you never have. It's smart, electric, and sumptuous. It's spiritual dark chocolate in a scarlet wrapper, and as I have finally discovered now that I'm almost 30, dark chocolate is the only kind worth having.

We are not here to match and homogenize and agree on every point. One size of spirituality does not fit all. We are here to be our divine selves, boldly, passionately, respectfully, to the absolute best of our ability--and this, this is more than enough.

Dare yourself to disturb the universe.

Ask yourself:

How intensely do I want to exist?

 

 

 

Comments

[Ivy]

I've been getting really bored with what's offered insofar as spirituality books are concerned. This one sounds like it's worth a trip to Chapters. Thanks for the review!

[margaritaspirit]

"I dare you to read her words and not come away re-energized about whatever religion you practice, and dying to try out at least one idea or practice you never have."

Seeing as that's what your books do for me, I guess I should try to pick this one up. Onto the wishlist it goes!

[Tanisha]

I loved that book, too. However, I know that white chocolate is the only kind worth having.

[kay]

I've added the book to my wishlist. I think I'll read it after I finish the Higginbotham's second book. Thanks for the recommend.

[Inanna]

Great, thanks for the recommendation and review!