Wednesday, June 25, 2014

My Mothering

After a lifetime of wondering what others wanted from me, so that I could seek to fulfill their fantasies, I am faced with wondering what I want for myself in my life. This seems to be the plight of many women my age who were taught that our mission was to mother all on earth. We were informed that we should not make any move without checking out our actions with others, and that we should keep a constant eye on others for their approval as we progressed in any direction.

This "emotional intelligence," or empathy, was the hallmark of being a good woman. Sadly, I find this to still be the case so in many circles of females. We are still taught to honor our empathy above all our other skills. So much of our rhetoric is about mothering our earth and all on it. What about those of us who want no part in eternal dependency of our progeny and those that come after them? If our children never grow away from their need for our assistance, I believe we have failed them. Did I work so hard at impressing independence on my own children only to be a pariah among other women in my old age?

I am sick to death of the conferences of women spending all their time and energy seeking to heal their own inner children, rather than in forming game plans for healing the earth in which we all live. The soft, sweet voices that tell us all to remain calm in the face of the continued destruction of our planet and all on it seem mostly misguided to me.

Moses, MLK, Gandhi, and Nelson Mandela did not spend all their time contemplating their own navels and shopping for shoes. They made their marks on our earth by identifying their own strengths and drawing to themselves those with complementary characteristics. They planned actions and marched forward with steely determination, dressed in a manner that did not threaten their oppressors.

The women of old knew that women's sensuality was as important in winning wars as were weapons. I am excellent at feeding and creating fun for males, in order that they should relax. When they are relaxed, they will often let down their guard and listen even to women and children. When will we bring the men most threatened by our militancy to our tables and ask them to help us protect them and their progeny? Where have we lost the real glory of our own gender?

It matters not to me what makes my men most comfortable around me. I would wear a burka or chador, if it worked to make the language of my eyes more intense. In my country, we have finally found that even nudity doesn't necessarily bring men begging to be held to a woman's breasts. It is imperative that each of us, in our own arenas, use all the gifts granted to us by the universe to help sway the conversations between males and females toward action that promotes world peace.

My version of mothering is to continue to bring resources to all who will join the effort in helping others share in just success. I may not bail you out of jail, but I'll support you along your mission's trail.

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