First, let me say, I forget her name. Perhaps this is not important because this practical, insightful and attentive creature has come to me in many personages over the years. I recognize this young girl as the third maiden to save me from my limited view of the world around me. The circumstance was that we were in grade school together, I had undertaken the process of dividing a piece of paper into three equal strips, or segments. My limited mathematical ability had me stretching to divide a fraction of an inch into ever more minute portions. The fractions became smaller than my ruler would allow. I could not make it come out without a remaining un-apportioned piece. She recognized my difficulty, came to my aid and helped me by showing me that if you took one end in each hand and bent the paper into a "Z" fold, the numbers would take care of themselves. I am still thankful for her help, over forty years later, I remember her kind and compassionate assistance to alleviate my struggle. The love I had for this young girl was as much for her intellect as her strong sense of self awareness and compassion. She knew, that she knew and that was all she needed to know, to be of service. Without judgement or guile, she gave of her own knowledge to help a fellow student.
She could have just as easily let me struggle.
The aspects that surely served her well as a child are, I'm sure, still informing her approach to life and that is what I love about her. Each time I meet important womyn in my life it adds to the capacity that I have for loving each of the rest of us. I would say the same for men, but seriously, their way of looking at things is far too often bent by their perspective of power and control. Many of the men I have known would have jumped in, made me feel inadequate, or just done it for me, leaving me to wonder how to do it myself. The get 'r done attitude and bull in a china shop approach would have made it unlikely that I would have had such an easy and long lasting positive lesson.
The first maiden that I had the opportunity to fall in love with was the child of a family friend. Sadly, she passed the veil before me and even though she inspired me to first love, her legacy was to encourage me to take life by the horns, wrest as much knowledge and beauty out of it as possible and to allow my own curiosity to flourish, something that I will never forget and will forever be indebted to her for. Our families moved away from one another when I was just a boy, but we met up again a time or two when my family would traverse the country. I always felt thrilled to get to see her again and when I reach Valhalla, I'm sure we will run barefoot together again and revel in our shared spirit. We are still one, though we are temporarily separated by the physical realm.
The second was from a household that had run a pet shop and candy store out of their home in Springfield, Illinois. This wise and charming girl taught me about critters and their care, that different is okay and that many times we can find silver linings in our most difficult lessons. Her bookish affection led me to find parts of myself that I had not known before. The afternoons we spent in the old store, feeding their creatures are part of what helped feed my own insight and interaction with animals to this day. Who would ever have thought that two generations later, the love these young girls shared, freely would still bear fruit?
Perhaps more common, or at least more numerous, are the mothers who guided the development of my illusions of love. Of course, the first mother I knew was my own. I do love Dar, but have also found that her limited vision proscribed my understanding of and ability to experience love greatly. Many of the things that hurt her soul were carried over to my experience. She was so open and transparent, I seriously had to grapple with and question adult themes from an extremely young age. Many of my youthful views have been discarded, but at my core, I'm still her son although I am now a grandfather as well.
Among the other mothers that have taught me great things, dozens stand out. Again, not so much the fathers. Where men are concerned, they seem to keep the most despicable social traits alive, like teaching a young boy to burp and fart. Mothers actually do the dirty work of teaching us to get along, clean up after ourselves and do the difficult work of being living examples of how to minister to the needs of others. While many of the men I happened to meet taught me how to drink hard and take chances, the women were more likely to hold their families dear, in spite of, or perhaps because of their perceived fragility. It just seemed to me growing up that they realized the true value of their families and the world which we all have to live in.
The love I have for the mother of my children has been strained, although I am no less appreciative of her special gifts. The feisty woman who would not concede an inch to anyone who threatened her children, she taught me to be tenacious when you find what really matters. Although we were not made for each other, we did create beautiful, smart, creative and compassionate children. I knew it was time to settle down when the mothers I met were less exciting than their daughters. The wisdom of women has always been a vital force in my life and to that, as much as any single person, I write this post.
The woman I have chosen to spend my life with has inspired me to learn even more lessons than I thought needed to be learned. The love that we share is unbound by ego, beyond physical or mental comfort or excitement, although both of those are there. We are two spirits involved in a great dance and we both lean on and help one another in a syncopated rhythm that mimics the ebb and flow of the days, the moons and the seasons. In our way, we are a microcosmic interpretation of universal thoughts and truth. Like two opposing fingers, we grasp things far beyond our immediate experience and evoke in one another a deeper understanding of our selves and one another.
I also want to speak of the crone. My own advancing age, allows me to straddle the line that will eventually fade leaving me in the stage of life that my friend Gary Haugen refers to as the Grandpama. Beyond gender, this repository of the divine feminine as well as the masculine resides in me. As a youth I said that I was in touch with my chick side, I developed mothering instincts when that became appropriate and expressed my nurturing nature using the many mothers I had known as models, but throughout my life, I have loved, and had a relationship with the crone as well. I was the child that many thought daft, who would hang out with the lady in the neighborhood that the other children thought was a witch. She may have been, but her lost loves and children's lives, squandered in war held wisdom beyond my youthful comprehension. Her tried and true methods for growing peas in the neighborhood full of rabbits as well as her desire to keep every penny she could out of the hands of the local utility company informed my understanding and beliefs as much as my own mother's limitations ever did. Her beautifully gnarled hands, alabaster with signs of her branching arteries and veins beneath, the crooked way she would straighten up, whenever she knew I was listening, or asking the right questions resembled pride, but bespoke something far deeper. The crone knows when she is loved, not for what is on the surface, but what resides in her heart and spirit.
The grandmothers are the conduit through which all important knowledge passes. Many tribes allowed their men to be "leaders" but the grandmothers always had final say as to who those leaders would be, as well as who they would serve. It is not worth arguing, anyone who has ever had time to spend with a crone can truly say that even in their silence, they can teach volumes. One of the grand mothers that I had early contact with used to say, "I just sit here and watch the ducks go by..." and "Who couldn't love a cat? Why I'd sooner kiss a cat than some people I know!" (I think that those people know who they are.) It turns out that even though we were all stunned, worried and a little bit confused about her grasp of reality, thinking that she was just spouting nonsense, as we cleaned out her apartment after her passing, didn't a duck and her ducklings pass by the window. Her endless hours spent feeling like she was completely ignored had been punctuated by the seasons and her unique view into the world. I sit now at times and just watch the ducks go by myself and for all that I get out of it, I am proud to have known her and appreciative for her sharing that tiny slice of her life with me as well.
Another crone, speaking of her awareness about her own growing blindness used to say. "I always loved to read, but one day clouds came and blocked out the words." She sadly recounted the growing fog that eventually took her vision as if it were a natural process and she found ways to continue to learn about the world through the eyes of others when that became necessary. Nothing would prevent her from exploring the world or enjoying the infinite possibilities that present themselves to one who cultivates awareness.
The grace that comes through in each and every one of these personages has brought me messages from beyond the realm of mere physical existence. It has shaped my heart, my brain, my emotional and spiritual life. Loving each and every one of these parts of a singular force (the divine feminine) in our lives is not difficult and it is not limited by exclusivity or dominion. We live together, in relationship, for all time and that perhaps is what I love most. With a bit of luck, more boys will learn to get in touch with their chick sides, honoring and respecting the maidens that offer their wisdom to them. In the next age, we will have to have greater understanding of and respect for motherhood and uphold the sanctity of the role that many mothers play in our lives. When the age of Aquarius becomes fully established, the crones will be both loved and revered as well, for they are the keepers of the great wisdom that many seek. They have borne the water throughout time that can slake the thirst of a withered world. The men have had their chance at running things for centuries now, let us truly love our women and start listening to them for a change.
She could have just as easily let me struggle.
The aspects that surely served her well as a child are, I'm sure, still informing her approach to life and that is what I love about her. Each time I meet important womyn in my life it adds to the capacity that I have for loving each of the rest of us. I would say the same for men, but seriously, their way of looking at things is far too often bent by their perspective of power and control. Many of the men I have known would have jumped in, made me feel inadequate, or just done it for me, leaving me to wonder how to do it myself. The get 'r done attitude and bull in a china shop approach would have made it unlikely that I would have had such an easy and long lasting positive lesson.
The first maiden that I had the opportunity to fall in love with was the child of a family friend. Sadly, she passed the veil before me and even though she inspired me to first love, her legacy was to encourage me to take life by the horns, wrest as much knowledge and beauty out of it as possible and to allow my own curiosity to flourish, something that I will never forget and will forever be indebted to her for. Our families moved away from one another when I was just a boy, but we met up again a time or two when my family would traverse the country. I always felt thrilled to get to see her again and when I reach Valhalla, I'm sure we will run barefoot together again and revel in our shared spirit. We are still one, though we are temporarily separated by the physical realm.
The second was from a household that had run a pet shop and candy store out of their home in Springfield, Illinois. This wise and charming girl taught me about critters and their care, that different is okay and that many times we can find silver linings in our most difficult lessons. Her bookish affection led me to find parts of myself that I had not known before. The afternoons we spent in the old store, feeding their creatures are part of what helped feed my own insight and interaction with animals to this day. Who would ever have thought that two generations later, the love these young girls shared, freely would still bear fruit?
Perhaps more common, or at least more numerous, are the mothers who guided the development of my illusions of love. Of course, the first mother I knew was my own. I do love Dar, but have also found that her limited vision proscribed my understanding of and ability to experience love greatly. Many of the things that hurt her soul were carried over to my experience. She was so open and transparent, I seriously had to grapple with and question adult themes from an extremely young age. Many of my youthful views have been discarded, but at my core, I'm still her son although I am now a grandfather as well.
Among the other mothers that have taught me great things, dozens stand out. Again, not so much the fathers. Where men are concerned, they seem to keep the most despicable social traits alive, like teaching a young boy to burp and fart. Mothers actually do the dirty work of teaching us to get along, clean up after ourselves and do the difficult work of being living examples of how to minister to the needs of others. While many of the men I happened to meet taught me how to drink hard and take chances, the women were more likely to hold their families dear, in spite of, or perhaps because of their perceived fragility. It just seemed to me growing up that they realized the true value of their families and the world which we all have to live in.
The love I have for the mother of my children has been strained, although I am no less appreciative of her special gifts. The feisty woman who would not concede an inch to anyone who threatened her children, she taught me to be tenacious when you find what really matters. Although we were not made for each other, we did create beautiful, smart, creative and compassionate children. I knew it was time to settle down when the mothers I met were less exciting than their daughters. The wisdom of women has always been a vital force in my life and to that, as much as any single person, I write this post.
The woman I have chosen to spend my life with has inspired me to learn even more lessons than I thought needed to be learned. The love that we share is unbound by ego, beyond physical or mental comfort or excitement, although both of those are there. We are two spirits involved in a great dance and we both lean on and help one another in a syncopated rhythm that mimics the ebb and flow of the days, the moons and the seasons. In our way, we are a microcosmic interpretation of universal thoughts and truth. Like two opposing fingers, we grasp things far beyond our immediate experience and evoke in one another a deeper understanding of our selves and one another.
I also want to speak of the crone. My own advancing age, allows me to straddle the line that will eventually fade leaving me in the stage of life that my friend Gary Haugen refers to as the Grandpama. Beyond gender, this repository of the divine feminine as well as the masculine resides in me. As a youth I said that I was in touch with my chick side, I developed mothering instincts when that became appropriate and expressed my nurturing nature using the many mothers I had known as models, but throughout my life, I have loved, and had a relationship with the crone as well. I was the child that many thought daft, who would hang out with the lady in the neighborhood that the other children thought was a witch. She may have been, but her lost loves and children's lives, squandered in war held wisdom beyond my youthful comprehension. Her tried and true methods for growing peas in the neighborhood full of rabbits as well as her desire to keep every penny she could out of the hands of the local utility company informed my understanding and beliefs as much as my own mother's limitations ever did. Her beautifully gnarled hands, alabaster with signs of her branching arteries and veins beneath, the crooked way she would straighten up, whenever she knew I was listening, or asking the right questions resembled pride, but bespoke something far deeper. The crone knows when she is loved, not for what is on the surface, but what resides in her heart and spirit.
The grandmothers are the conduit through which all important knowledge passes. Many tribes allowed their men to be "leaders" but the grandmothers always had final say as to who those leaders would be, as well as who they would serve. It is not worth arguing, anyone who has ever had time to spend with a crone can truly say that even in their silence, they can teach volumes. One of the grand mothers that I had early contact with used to say, "I just sit here and watch the ducks go by..." and "Who couldn't love a cat? Why I'd sooner kiss a cat than some people I know!" (I think that those people know who they are.) It turns out that even though we were all stunned, worried and a little bit confused about her grasp of reality, thinking that she was just spouting nonsense, as we cleaned out her apartment after her passing, didn't a duck and her ducklings pass by the window. Her endless hours spent feeling like she was completely ignored had been punctuated by the seasons and her unique view into the world. I sit now at times and just watch the ducks go by myself and for all that I get out of it, I am proud to have known her and appreciative for her sharing that tiny slice of her life with me as well.
Another crone, speaking of her awareness about her own growing blindness used to say. "I always loved to read, but one day clouds came and blocked out the words." She sadly recounted the growing fog that eventually took her vision as if it were a natural process and she found ways to continue to learn about the world through the eyes of others when that became necessary. Nothing would prevent her from exploring the world or enjoying the infinite possibilities that present themselves to one who cultivates awareness.
The grace that comes through in each and every one of these personages has brought me messages from beyond the realm of mere physical existence. It has shaped my heart, my brain, my emotional and spiritual life. Loving each and every one of these parts of a singular force (the divine feminine) in our lives is not difficult and it is not limited by exclusivity or dominion. We live together, in relationship, for all time and that perhaps is what I love most. With a bit of luck, more boys will learn to get in touch with their chick sides, honoring and respecting the maidens that offer their wisdom to them. In the next age, we will have to have greater understanding of and respect for motherhood and uphold the sanctity of the role that many mothers play in our lives. When the age of Aquarius becomes fully established, the crones will be both loved and revered as well, for they are the keepers of the great wisdom that many seek. They have borne the water throughout time that can slake the thirst of a withered world. The men have had their chance at running things for centuries now, let us truly love our women and start listening to them for a change.
No comments:
Post a Comment