I Bled on My Favourite Panties.

a-woman

I am a woman.

I had periods and bled on sheets.

But my voice does not matter, my voice was not wanted. My message fit in with those who were told they were not welcome to march with the women of the world, so while the march spoke out for women “everywhere,” I sat at home.

I sit with many women who chose a different path than many of those who marched. That choice, evidently makes us all now, women who do not matter. We do not have a place at the table. Our input into important issues is not permitted. We are the women, who are sent to the outer tents when we bleed. We are not allowed to contaminate the others, except our exile is not for one week of the month . . . ours is permanent.

There can be no doubt that we are women. We had mothers and fathers who loved us, we played with dolls, we did all the girl things with the other girls. We went to university or got a job. We married and some divorced, we had kids and some of us grand babies and even great grand babies. We have careers or stayed home. We met situations that were difficult and yes, some of us were raped, some of us abused. Some of us were/are paid far less than we are worth. Some of us have been horribly discriminated against. Some of us are religious. We are rich and poor, overweight and underweight. We are varying degrees of attractive. Some of us conquer mountains, some of us conquer diapers. We are women no different than those who marched. But they told us we were not the right kind of women, and so we couldn’t join them. While they said they wanted “everyone’s” support – that did not include ours. Had we marched, had we said anything, our voice would have been “booed,” because these women are not about love and inclusion … this is just one big mean girl’s party. Continue reading

Sorry, They Lied.

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This is another of the New Age-isms that I take issue with. I am all for opening up our children and filling them with light and possibilities but I also believe in teaching them discernment and truth.

I grew up in a world where little girls, especially, were raised to be “nice.” Reduced to expectations, that meant that having an idea, opinion, feeling, or need that was not the same as other people’s – made you bad, needy and selfish. You were meant to go along with the flow, to always sacrifice yourself for others, and never ever ask for anything. Your happiness lay in making others happy. Period.

The seventies had a mini revolution to guarantee women more rights, including the right to actually self-determine their own lives and not just be a host for their partner and children to suck the life out of.  Well, that is what the pamphlets said.

Today we tell our children that if they will just reflect kindness and love,  if they will be positive, or visualize nice things . . . they will get nice in return.  We tell them that is how the world works.

But that is absolutely NOT how it works.  The world is not fair. There is no balance, where in the end, everything always gets neatly tied up in Fair Wrapping Paper bought at the Justice Store. Often the mean horrible people end up getting all the breaks and living with money and power. The bullies don’t end up alone and miserable. The nice guy frequently does finish last and he is left as the only idiot being nice, being honest, loving and respecting others while everyone else takes advantage of him.  They go on to amazing success with a world that claps every time they fart and the nice dude ends up living alone, in poverty, with other people’s cats that they could not be bothered with.

We have to stop lying to people. Continue reading

Today’s Food For Thought.

be thirsty

“Where do I belong,” was a question that haunted my soul for as long as I can remember.    While some children worried about where to put their hands when under the scrutiny of a disproving adult, I had no idea where to put me, ever.  Deep, soul-wrenching questions haunted my nights, robbing me of sleep.  My days were consumed with trying to undo the one thing I knew with every fibre of my being.  “I did not fit in.”  I did not need to wait for other children to taunt me or run away from me on the playground, their cruel words and actions already had a place carved out in my being where they were meant to live.  I did not fight against them, I welcomed them home.   Continue reading

Survival

survive

None of us have The Answer.  Sometimes I think all we can do is take a page out of Alcoholics Anonymous.  We take responsibility for our part in creating this world and the mess it is in.  We realize that we cannot focus on the totality of the problem for a million reasons.  But what we do focus on is ourselves, and this moment and today.

What if TODAY we did not commit any unkind acts?  What if TODAY we did one good thing?   What if TODAY we took the time to tell our loved ones that they matter?  What if TODAY we made time for what matters and let the superficial deal with itself for just a little bit?

You eat an elephant one bite at a time.  Addicts do one day at a time.  We can break it down to even one act a day, and slowly, maybe in between the time we brush our teeth and the time we go to bed . . . the world will begin to heal.  People will let go of their hate.  Our hearts will be filled with what matters and we will let go of the cheap substitutes of money and things that never seem to last or fill that huge hole in all of us.  We all, just want to be loved and needed.  We all just want to love and to help.  No-one has to have The Answer.  We don’t even have to answer anything.  We just have to be willing to begin.  Reach out.  Do what you can.  Find someone to love.  Begin.  We can heal the broken, wounded lives that exist all around us, one act at a time.

Kindness matters

Today’s Food For Thought.

Suffering

How I wish that I could explain to those I love, how wrong the world is. I wish I could go back and erase all the messages that I passed on, some intentional, but so many more that I just inadvertently taught out of my own weaknesses and fears. I wish I could redo it, putting more emphasis on embracing it all and releasing them from any sense of shame for simply being a human being.

The world tries to write our stories with its labels and limiting beliefs. We are too weak, we are not enough, we failed, we can’t, we shouldn’t. There is nothing that happens to us that we need to fear. We can face it. We can overcome it. We can heal. Continue reading

Today’s Food For Thought

to let go

One of the blessings of getting older is that life slows down a lot, and the need for you to tend to every small detail for all the people you are responsible for and too, pretty much ends. Your kids are grown up and don’t need/want your advice, you no longer have a company hounding you for that deadline, and the general public thinks you just need a pat on the hand and an “aww isn’t she cute” once in awhile.

You get a lot of time to sit and look. You think.

Were we this obsessed with having everything? Probably. But our wants were not so much about fame and things way beyond our life probabilities, they were more about things that allowed us to be part of the average and edging to better. We surprised ourselves by surpassing that at times, but most of us breathed evenly when we were holding our own. In the end, we can say we did OK.  We know that other did much better and others did not even come close.  We did OK.

Now it seems to be about being the winner, the best, the one that gets to rub everyone else’s face in it. If a friend has a $30,000.00, wedding, yours has to be $45,000.00 and instead of establishing status quo with your peers, it is a process of leap frogging. Meaning, you have made your life an endless treadmill. There will never be a point where you just sit back and enjoy it. Continue reading

Going Home

home

This year I returned to Canada. I had been going back once, twice a year, for awhile but once my mother in law became ill, and our daughter here was having problems, we found ourselves landlocked for almost 3 years.

Moving to a new country set off an emotional conflict within. Where is home? I am living here in Australia but am not connected to it or people in the way I was once connected to Canada. Yet, I am no longer in Canada and people move on without me and I have been making my own journey that has led me far from what was once so familiar.

I felt guilt that returning to Canada leaves me with more and more apprehension while returning to Australia feels more and more like a home coming. I felt that on the very first journey here. It was like my soul had come home to a place where it belonged. I had never truly felt “at home” anywhere, but one visit to Australia changed that. It was the feeling, a generalized, non specific feeling not attached to anything, or even logic.  It just occupied my heart and nurtured it in a way I had never known before.  I felt my soul letting out a long and deep sigh.  I settled in, and I never wanted to leave. Continue reading