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i’ve done a lot of crying today. not all of it’s been bad. most of it, in fact hasn’t been bad. i’m just letting go of some things i’ve been holding on to for no really good reason except habit. they are, in fact, habits i’m sure i’ll have to let go of again and again, as is the wont with habits.
i started the day reading some of point three (of mind training) and the paramita of patience. the 47 slogans of mind training are organized into seven points. slogan 13 is my favourite so far, and the one i’m currently most intimidated by.
“be grateful to everyone”
this should be of no surprise since my favourite number is 13, and the title of my blog is an allusion to shantideva’s remarks on the subject:
So like a treasure found at home,
Enriching me without fatigue,
All enemies are helpers in my bodhisattva work
And therefore they should be a joy to me.
except in my title i’m the treasure, the one to be grateful to. see, we’re like little rubies found under the couch cushion because we point out your path to enlightenment. “here,” we say as we piss you off, “here is where you could use a little improvement on that path.” it’s much easier to be on that end than to be on the end where you’re giving the gratitude.
in the early afternoon i talked to my meditation instructor. he told me things i knew but needed reminding of, which is what all of this study really feels like to me, so he must be right on target. i cried.
next went to a book club meeting where we had a difficult discussion. i didn’t cry, but my heart was pretty tender when i left. so i came home and looked for a movie to watch. usually, i do this and decide i’m not really in the mood for whatever is on. i thought i would end up reading or folding laundry.
instead, i watched ‘becoming jane’. holy cow. maybe because i’m a hopeless romantic deep under this cynical exterior, but i caught my breath when she turned around and was suddenly dancing with him. of course, i knew the end end. i just wasn’t sure how they would get there, and as with certain other stories i know very well, i hoped for a miracle. i suppose in a way i got one, jane austin wrote some amazing literature and certainly helped pave the way for women writers in this western world. and… i cried.
i cried for jane and for me and for letting go and for doing the right thing… the really right thing for what i want and what i’m afraid i can’t live up to and i sat for 15 min and cried for at least half of it. and i felt like a fool and was glad i was sitting alone in the dark with only my cat to witness (and now, of course, i’ve written all down for you to read). i use a 15 min mp3 meditation timer which features a few seconds of silence, a gong, 15 min of silence, then three gongs and a few more seconds of silence which i use to dedicate the merit.
the next song in itunes just happens to be a well know everly brothers tune. can you guess? it’s ‘crying in the rain’.
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i wrote this email to my feminist book club list. we’re not big chatters over there, so i’m not surprised i haven’t gotten a response. but i wonder if i’m the only person who feels this way. certainly not, right? it’s a question i struggle with a lot: how do i get past the anger and frustration i feel to become a useful participant in stopping the cycle?
i’m feeling really very very angry today, i need to get some of this out. thanks in advance for reading. at the retreat this weekend someone said something which reminded me of …’s relationship in …. he lived with a woman, her two girls, a dog, a cat, and a fish.
he finally left the relationship because she was abusing him. she would get drunk and bite and hit him.
wednesday at the doctor’s office i heard the receptionist tell a patient that she broke her pinky when she was “hitting [her] boyfriend.” she said it very matter of factly, too, as if there were nothing strange about it.
so here is what i’m really mad about: i’m mad that i see so many women encouraging and supporting and continuing the cycle of violence. i don’t know what to do about it… well, i do in that i know education is key to helping women and men learn to stop this. but i’m not sure how to work with my anger and sadness in the moment. i’m not sure what to do about the deep sense of “good god, you’re right!” i feel when i hear a man say “see, that’s why men rule the world” when they hear a story about the way women undercut each other.
it’s not just that it happens, but that i hear excuses for it all the time. ‘oh, she’s sensitive.’ ‘oh, she’s scared.’ ‘oh, that’s just the way she is.’ we don’t make excuses, as culture, for our men because when men are violent they do more damage. but women tend to be more violent on average.
and of course i’m as guilty of this as anyone. but the anger i feel at other women is sometimes so big i don’t know what to do with it. and part of that anger comes from feeling like i’m the only one who thinks that something is out of line.
so i know this is all over the map, i’m having a hard time really pinpointing what i need or what i’m asking. i just want to understand why women buy into the idea that they need to minimize and control other women. i want to understand why we ignore domestic violence done by women.
i want to know how i can really honestly lovingly compassionately spread knowledge about, and break the cycle of, violence in our homes and our world when i myself am SO FUCKING ANGRY about it, too.
it’s valentine’s day. which means it’s v-day.
i know we all want to think about lovey doevy things or how much we hate to be told to buy gifts for people we love on a specific day instead of when WE want to. (notice how the ones who complain about that loudest are the ones who don’t do little things and buy little gifts ever?)
but, when you have a moment, or even if you don’t, check out this list of facts about violence against women. we have so far to go until it stops.
i’m committed, are you?
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i finally signed up for a blogher account. i’d been meaning to do it since i heard about the first conference in ‘05, but i have been lazy.
maybe i haven’t really felt like a ‘woman’ until just this moment. it could be the house buying, it could be the skirt wearing i’m imposing on myself (so i don’t feel like such a fool for only wearing half my wardrobe), it could be the growing interest in ‘women’s issues’ and feminism.
whatever the reason, i felt ready when i read this post by sj at i, asshole. it finally pushed me over the edge. go, read, vote, get ass photos.
it’s just a vagina, people. we’re women. some of you are women. are you THAT afraid of your own bodies?
come on, please! are you actually hoping your niece doesn’t ever figure out that she has a vagina? is calling it a hooha going to reduce her inclination toward risky sexual behaviour? doubtful.
thanks to boing boing for ever pointing out the ridiculous.
let’s stop hedging around the subject and realize that women’s bodies shouldn’t invoke fear. how hard could that really be?
v-day is next wednesday; let’s be a little more aware, eh?
really. let’s just make an attempt at being rational.
please.
pretty please with sugar on top?
the writers of veronica mars apparently can’t tell the difference between an abortion and birth control. plan b is emergency contraception that works the same way as your birth control pills. it DOES NOT WORK if you are already pregnant.
PLAN B DOES NOT CAUSE ABORTIONS.
come on, people.
