Something a little different this week. When I found this post I knew it spoke to me and my blog. Just like the poem, we are a combination of feelings at any given time. This is the messiness of life – that we all carry multitudes, so must sit with the shifts.
Sitting with the messiness is necessary to keep our balance. When your back is against the wall, sit with it. The answers will surface. Plus, it brings clarity and avoids misunderstandings.
“Half of me is filled with bursting words
and half of me is painfully shy.
I crave solitude yet also crave people.
I want to pour life and love into everything.
yet also nurture my self-care and go gently.
I want to live within the rush of primal, intuitive decisions, yet also wish to sit and contemplate.
This is the messiness of life – that we all carry multitudes, so must sit with the shifts.
And Misunderstood
They will always misunderstand why.
Why didn’t I just get in line with the others.
Why I didn’t just walk the aisle of the bride,
And fill my womb with the next in line.
Like all the others did.
And to them, I will say this:
Behind me stands a line of women.
The mothers who birthed mothers
Who birthed mothers,
Who, one day, birthed me.
And many of those women,
More than I’ll ever know,
Were unrecognized creators.
Engineers. Geniuses. Luminaries.
Who couldn’t be all they were,
Because somebody stood in the way.
Somebody said, “No. this is who you are.”
And they were forced.
To be brides, birthing the next in line.
And reduced, dutied, exhausted, and beat
into a fraction of who they were,
They kept birthing.
And with each birth, a silent prayer.
That one day, there would be a daughter,
Who would be the mother
of their unrealized dreams.
And who, when told who she was
by those who would stand in her way,
Would say “No, this is who I am.”
And everybody would have to listen.
I am that daughter.
And when I’m asked why I won’t just do
What they’ve always wanted us to do.
I tell them that it’s to let my mothers know
That I’m now here,
The answer to their prayers,
Deciding for myself,
What I will birth.
_____
Words: Adrianne Tamar Arachne
Art: “Rising” • Oil Paint On Wood Panel • Adrianne Tamar Arachne
I see this in myself and in my generation, even though there are many who led the way and many who broke through the expectations. I know my own mother was proud of my many successes doing it “my way”. She never was able to shake the expectations of her times, but always had my back in the turbulent 60’s. This blog was birthed from her struggles as a woman and all those who need their own inspirations.
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