late nite rambling...
I wept today for all that has been lost…for all that will be lost
And she told me that it was only as it should be, that it will only be as it was meant to be.
I wept for her and for us and for my mothers and daughters
I knew that I could not change the past nor greatly influence the future.
And still an idea came to me. An idea that could impact the world at large.
I could make a difference with this idea and I’m certain it came from her.
The night sky danced quietly in the autumn chill, stars gazing down at me.
The grass beneath my feet was cool and damp, the water nearly still, the slightest sound of it lapping against the jagged stone.
In one direction humanity zoomed around, largely oblivious to the cosmos above and around them.
I saw the milky way and another direction nature expanded before me, her great womb open to my viewing there on the cool, dark shore.
I no longer have the ego to write extensively about myself and my experiences of this world.
My ego has shrunk to concern itself only with the worldly, daily affairs of survival and yet here, in this place on the edge of suburbia, I find a place of holy solitude. This man made earthwork, not very unlike the great mounds of ancient worshippers. Here on this mound I find my heart, I find the wounds in my soul and rub the salt into them, reawakening the sharp pain of loss and violation.
These great gods are laid low by the vile hands of man and woman. The verbal, active aggression of men and the passive, lifeless permission laid down by women. The children stripped of their inborn right to wonder and marvel at the power of nature and the ancestors before them. The women raped of their childbearing choices and rights, raped of their knowledge and ancient medicines. The men beaten into deranged violence forced to prove something given them by nature.
I wept there for all of us, all of them, everything that moves. Is it possible to weep for a quark, a neutrino, a planet or a galaxy? Is it possible to weep for existence itself?
Does it do any good whatsoever to send your pain, sorrow, guilt, and anguish into the cosmos? To lay in her sweet smelling green arms and weep blood tears for the pain you and your kind have caused her? Does she rock you gently in warm forgiveness? Or lay there in cold death, eyes open and staring widely at an empty universe?
Or do I weep for myself? Do I weep for my failings as a human, as a woman, as a daughter, sister, and lover? Am I so inadequate that I cannot even handle my own failure to exist effectively? Jess would tell me to stop my whining, stop the pity party…it is not pity I wish for, but for understanding…for clarity and resolve. A solid ending to this topsy turvy ride that is my self esteem. I hate myself so much right now that I can’t even admit that I hate myself. I can’t even admit that I’m unhappy with my circumstances, because I know that they won’t change anytime soon. I can’t even have the courage to tell Jess that I need my needs to be fulfilled more regularly. My mother, the one who is linked to me by blood doesn’t ever see the good in my situation. My other mother has given me more than I could ever have hoped for.
And she told me that it was only as it should be, that it will only be as it was meant to be.
I wept for her and for us and for my mothers and daughters
I knew that I could not change the past nor greatly influence the future.
And still an idea came to me. An idea that could impact the world at large.
I could make a difference with this idea and I’m certain it came from her.
The night sky danced quietly in the autumn chill, stars gazing down at me.
The grass beneath my feet was cool and damp, the water nearly still, the slightest sound of it lapping against the jagged stone.
In one direction humanity zoomed around, largely oblivious to the cosmos above and around them.
I saw the milky way and another direction nature expanded before me, her great womb open to my viewing there on the cool, dark shore.
I no longer have the ego to write extensively about myself and my experiences of this world.
My ego has shrunk to concern itself only with the worldly, daily affairs of survival and yet here, in this place on the edge of suburbia, I find a place of holy solitude. This man made earthwork, not very unlike the great mounds of ancient worshippers. Here on this mound I find my heart, I find the wounds in my soul and rub the salt into them, reawakening the sharp pain of loss and violation.
These great gods are laid low by the vile hands of man and woman. The verbal, active aggression of men and the passive, lifeless permission laid down by women. The children stripped of their inborn right to wonder and marvel at the power of nature and the ancestors before them. The women raped of their childbearing choices and rights, raped of their knowledge and ancient medicines. The men beaten into deranged violence forced to prove something given them by nature.
I wept there for all of us, all of them, everything that moves. Is it possible to weep for a quark, a neutrino, a planet or a galaxy? Is it possible to weep for existence itself?
Does it do any good whatsoever to send your pain, sorrow, guilt, and anguish into the cosmos? To lay in her sweet smelling green arms and weep blood tears for the pain you and your kind have caused her? Does she rock you gently in warm forgiveness? Or lay there in cold death, eyes open and staring widely at an empty universe?
Or do I weep for myself? Do I weep for my failings as a human, as a woman, as a daughter, sister, and lover? Am I so inadequate that I cannot even handle my own failure to exist effectively? Jess would tell me to stop my whining, stop the pity party…it is not pity I wish for, but for understanding…for clarity and resolve. A solid ending to this topsy turvy ride that is my self esteem. I hate myself so much right now that I can’t even admit that I hate myself. I can’t even admit that I’m unhappy with my circumstances, because I know that they won’t change anytime soon. I can’t even have the courage to tell Jess that I need my needs to be fulfilled more regularly. My mother, the one who is linked to me by blood doesn’t ever see the good in my situation. My other mother has given me more than I could ever have hoped for.