Being a woman in today’s world may not be as difficult as it was in the past, but there are still times we are reminded that we still coming out of an age of inequality. There is a gap in pay still, expectations on either end…it is frustrating if you think about it.
Pursue a career, you sacrifice family, dedicate yourself to a family, you are giving up freedoms that were fought for, where is the “you”? It is exhausting. No matter which way you go one side will not approve.
My hero. I love her sass!🙂
Screw that. The middle exists. I have seen women do it; it is possible though difficult. And why are we judging one another so much in the first place? I mean I know I can probably look back and it goes all the way back to antiquity, women nitpicking other women for just about anything. Seriously.
All this rabble rousing on breast feeding in public too. Some just want to shock, others have a point, and I am sitting back stroking my chin wondering of this is yet another distraction from bigger issues like paid family leave in the U.S.? I have a bit of a conspiracy streak and that argument seems like a lame, “look over here” so we do not see what is going on over there sort of distraction.
Then I thought about my mother and what she had to go through. How far she had come and how the world changed in her time. How she helped pave a way for me as other women have before her. I wanted, and still do, to make her proud to do more than she had. To continue paving a way of sorts, maybe through words or art. Maybe another brick in the wall, but a colorful one if I have anything to say about it.
And then I thought on mothers in general how they all love, nurture, teach their children, and from there my mind wandered to those who have lost their mothers. I was reminded again this last year what a hard road that is when a friend of mine lost her mother in July.
A sadness swept over me there thinking of those who have passed and those left behind. How could it not? And yet, even with the sorrow there they all are, the mothers who came before us, in our words, in our thoughts, in how we laugh or smile, in what we value, in how we see.
The idea stuck with me, especially once I read how there is some evidence scientists have found that suggests our ancestors’ experiences are a part of our DNA, almost like an emotional genetic imprint passed down throughout the generations. Therefore, so much more are our mothers still with us…more than genetically, emotionally and energetically. Maybe I am making a leap in reasoning, but it seems to fit to my mind. Like how you can still feel them and know they are smiling with you even though you cannot tangibly see them there.
It also reminded me of the 2 Cellos version of “Hurt” click here for YouTube video of Hurt by 2 Cellos how the music, though pained, keeps going on and sad as it is, beautiful, vulnerable, and ultimately triumphant.
Then as my mind wandered through social sciences and science, I reflected on how the Vikings were already all over this concept way back in the day.
As quoted from The 13th Warrior, and I believe it to be a Viking saying as well, “Lo there do I see my father; Lo there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers; Lo there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning. Lo, they do call to me…”
It is an interesting concept. I wonder about all of the mothers, grandmothers, great-grandmothers, and so on and on, watching over children, grandchildren, descendents, and how we muddle through this world carrying with us their love, hopes, and good intentions. Another saying came to mind, “we are the result of the love of thousands.”
Naturally, I hope we are making them all proud, but even I know really a mother just wants her child to be happy. At the end of the day, that is what is important.
To that end I hope we are all successful. Life is not so much a competition as a training ground, and training to be happy is oddly one of the most difficult things a human can do. Cheers, lovely ladies.
Ps. Fellas, sorry for leaving you out of this one, but it was a girl thing…duh.