“A woman’s highest calling is to lead a man to his soul, so as to unite him with Source. Her lowest calling is to seduce, separating man from his soul and leave him aimlessly wandering. A man’s highest calling is to protect woman, so she is free to walk the earth unharmed. Man’s lowest calling is to ambush and force his way into the life of a woman.” Cherokee Proverb
Yesterday at the hair salon I picked up a magazine and read a quote by someone saying something to the effect that people wonder why everyone is so transfixed on Kim Kardashian and his response was that is was because she is so “real.”
I choked on my water.
How the hell did we get here? Can it be possible that an entire generation could be defined by their inability to know the difference between what is real and what is …not? Kim Kardashian is not like anyone I know or have met in the real world. Her lifestyle, her opportunities are not only unattainable for 99.999999% of the population, of what value are they to anyone? Including herself?
Is someone’s life really enhanced by having a whole separate closet for your choices of exercise clothes alone? And if it is, can someone explain it to me? Apart from having more of everything than anyone could possibly need or use in their lifetime, having each of those items singularly cost more than many middle class people’s weekly or even monthly salary, is obscene. How does it help? Is she a better person because of it? Does she bless the lives of others more because of it? Is the world a better place because of that? And THIS is what we want people to think of as normal so that they all spend their lives trying to achieve it, fail, and then, also fail to have ever done one thing that might have actually been normal and worthy of a spent life? Continue reading
(The Mother’s Hand (1966) by Antanas Sutkus)
I never had a mother.
I don’t know much about her, and what little I was told has proven to be mostly lies.
I had people who raised me. Who showed up, did their job and went home at the end of the day.
So I have never really celebrated Mother’s Day in the sense of being able to tell my mother I love her, or thank her for anything. I actually do not know what it would be like to have a mother who loved and wanted me, who thought I was wonderful, who was proud of me, or cheered for me, or wanted me to succeed but held my hand when I failed. I don’t know what it is like to have those arms around me. I don’t have a circle. I only have my own limited existence and the effort I made to mother myself. So I have looked long and deep at other women and their families.
I have always celebrated the spirit of motherhood that I see in women as their true creative force. Women give birth, not just to children, but to life . . . in so many different modalities.
I celebrate in terms of appreciating all those women around me who are mothers. I see their struggles and doubts, their loneliness sometimes and the feelings of being unappreciated. I am particularly drawn to those whose children never make the time to ever say they love them, let alone pay any tribute on the one day a year designated for that activity. The fact they are not recognized by the children they sacrificed for does not make their efforts any less than others.
I am drawn to those who never had children and yet contribute to the world in so many ways, and often are the arms and support to other women as they raise their children. The aunts, and sisters and friends who mean so much to us because they always show up and help love our kids and often become good friends to them as well as us.
I am drawn to those whose children are gone and who never had the chance to finish what was started. I hope their children made time to let their mothers know before it was too late, that they cared.
But most of all I look at the young women who don’t yet know how quickly it is all over and who feel like they are drowning and doing a lousy job. You aren’t. Kids say and do things, sometime horrible things, not because that is who they are or even how they feel, but because you created a safe enough place that they are real people who are learning and growing and they know they can be imperfect without worrying about suffering a loss of your love.
I know what I feel as a mother and how much my children mean to me and the blessing – and the sorrows – they bring to my life. It is the true definition of love. And I know I am blessed to have children, to be in their lives, and that what I do or do not do has had, and will have tremendous impact on their lives. At times it is an overwhelming responsibility. How often I have longed for my own mother to guide me and encourage me. I did not have that.
So I am thankful to the women who have mothered me in so many ways, sometimes just their example that inspired me. And I am grateful for those who shared my journey and therefore blessed my life.
Mothering is THE life force. We share in it collectively as women, regardless of our situations.
Happy Mother’s Day.
“The psyches and souls of women also have their own cycles and seasons of doing and solitude, running and staying, being involved and being removed, questing and resting, creating and incubating, being of the world and returning to the soul-place.” Clarissa Pinkola Estes
I saw the woman disappear into the dressing room with her “one size fits all” dress in a shop with sizes 0 – 8 for 12 – 12 year olds masquerading as 30 somethings. She was probably a size 24 and at least 45 but I admired her willingness to still believe in imaginary things and her complete disregard for the limits the world puts upon our minds and our hearts … not to mention our bodies.
What was I doing in the shop? Living in my past, like visiting a museum, a walk down memory lane. Okay, I was crying just a little bit – some of those things looked like little hankies that my grandmother used to carry and hell … Pavlov’s dogs you know?? Continue reading
I do have to thank the internet for teaching me to simply block the people that irritate me, or stop following them, or mute them, or don’t read what they write.
I have a choice.
No need to engage them and start WW3. But it also has given me the courage to ignore the attacks on me because I don’t NEED you to like or approve of me. Continue reading
“I only feel close to people who arouse my energy, who make enormous demands of me, who are capable of enriching me with experience, pain, people who do not doubt my courage, or my toughness. People who do not believe me naive or innocent, but who challenge my keenest wisdom, who have the courage to treat me like a woman in spite of the fact that they are aware of my vulnerability.” Anaïs Nin
It gets complicated. Everyone loves to have someone they can have the heart to heart with …every woman needs that connection.
Women are connected in so many ways … the women’s “tent” where understanding was lent, lessons learned, and experiences shared …. amongst generations and peers … acknowledged the bonds between us as women. Sadly today, more and more women speak of being “friendless,” having acquaintances but no-one they trust. Continue reading
In the midst of my husband’s illness, before he died, we were at our lowest as a family. I say that in reference to money, options, lifestyle, family support and friends. I had spent almost 2 years of my life, dropping everything including my job and writing to being there for my husband 24/7 in the time he had left. I had no idea what day it was other than how many days until the next refill of his prescriptions. Days and nights were irrelevant. He slept when he could and sometimes was awake all night. The time he slept was divided between getting things done that required me to go away from him and catching the little sleep I could. Often my time was spent going to and from the hospital to see him, fighting with doctors and the people around me who made a tough situation worse but who I would not let make it worse for him, and sitting in a hospital room alone not knowing if he would make it through the night. Continue reading