I've been doing SoulCollage® again!
It’s not that I’m angry with my dad. I’m not. I’m not mad at him, nor am I mad at men in general. But I am angry with the culture that formed my dad and me, the culture that stereotyped and shaped both of us into what we were “supposed” to be: “Men are to be big, strong and important, leaders, of course; and women are to be small, weak, insignificant, “helpers”, naturally. Not only were Daddy and I both raised in that mileau, but when Daddy chose a career, he chose one that “tricked” my mother into becoming no larger than a fly—a fly on a wall, always observing, but never invited in as equal. O, equality was preached all right: "Eve was created from the rib of Adam, not from his head to be lorded over, but to walk side-by-side", but that sermon was always quickly followed by “Wives, be submissive to your husband in all ways.” This damn patriarchal culture made both my mother and me so small and so “less than”.
But, to further complicate the story, I am a “Father’s Daughter”, Athena, birthed from the crown of her Father’s head, birthed fully grown and fully armored, sword drawn and yelling her war cry! The “Athena’s” of our world have been taught to promote, defend and protect this culture, and I faithfully did for over 50 years. Then one day, my body failed, and my eyes opened. The armor became way too heavy. Like the Tin Man, it had rusted so that I couldn’t even find my heart anymore, and I realized I didn’t have a clue how to rest and trust myself and my intuition, let alone God.
It’s amazing how hard is for me to rest and trust. That’s another “gift” of the Patriarchal culture. We are taught: be ever on guard, every watchful, lest the Enemy lie to you and trick you into rebelling. God help the woman who becomes like “them”, one of those “Feminists”, who, are like Eve, are easily deceived and demand equality with God.
Well, I AM Eve’s daughter: naked, unashamed, listening to the snake (an ancient symbol of women’s intuition). Well, at least that’s who I want to be, except I find I can’t get rid of all this damned armor. My armor is made up of words, and these words have taken their toll on my body. I’m always tired, no matter how much I rest. I, we, women, we’ve lost so much. Our battles seem endless, even today, in 2012, there are men who would still have us barefoot and pregnant, cooking their dinners, raising their children, promoting their careers, and serving their “Lord”. Here it is, 2012, 2000 years after Jesus the Liberator came to help set us free, and men are still trying to take back our basic right, our reproductive rights, the most intimate choice we can make.
Damn it, I’m ready to liberate Eve—I took a bite of that apple in 2004, and it tasted very good. I want this armor off, and I have the keys—it time, maybe I will truly be like Eve. NAKED AND UNASHAMED, awake, continuing to make the choice to live the bigger life that I am supposed to live. I am FREE on the inside, now to help set my body free to relax and enjoy!
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