Regaining the balance

17 04 2010

So what happens with two posts in a day?  Does it unbalance the planet somehow? 

So the testy day finds me here at the end, thanking the Goddess that it’s the weekend and I don’t have to deal with any more of the diverse and interesting personalities of the work environment for a couple of days.  Mostly it’s a wonderful occupation, with people that I’d hang out with even if I didn’t work with them.  But today, just… no.  I’m tired of dealing with the highly specialized technical experts who have no social skills.  I’m tired of the assumption that, because I’m one of the few women in my very very male industry, that I will be the civilizing influence on all those unruly men.  Because boys will be boys.  Even when they’re plenty old enough to know better… somehow the expectations of growing the hell up don’t apply to them.

Hello, spinning wheel… because if there was ever a time when I needed the gentle rhythm and whir of the wheel, the feel of fine wool slipping through my fingers, this is it.  And the knowledge that, with this at least, I’m making something real and measurable and useful.  That in some sense I’m jumping back, past all the modern ideas of technology and interconnectivity and networking, back to fundamental skills that wrapped babies in warmth, protected fishermen on icy seas, clothed peasants and royalty alike.  For millenia, women have spun the fiber of their world into thread and yarn – sometimes for commercial purposes, but overwhelmingly to take care of their families. 

I remember when I was pregnant, 22 years ago, feeling a visceral connection to all the women who had ever carried a baby in their bodies.  I felt the presence of their shared experience, and there was comfort in knowing that this experience, so new and unfamiliar to me, had been repeated countless times.  There was a golden cord that connected all of us who had ever done this.  I took strength from all the women who had come before me.  The time for pregnancy and babies is long past for me… no longer the child or the maiden, I’m now on my way to crone.  Which is another form of connection to all the women who have done this before me.   The longer I do this, the more I long for ways to reach back to all of them

Tough week, not nearly enough balance.  So tonight I spend reaching back.

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