Women, Surrounded

Just finished Skyping a great female friend who lives on the West Coast. Our friendship was rekindled through the emotional blaze of this past summer. Its mystical, I'm learning, how life- with its people and experiences- tends to come full circle. And, always, it circles again and again and again...picking you up and pulling you towards so many 'serendipitous' encounters.

A week ago, I was in a bad place. A hair trauma sent me deep down a rabbit hole of despair and rage. There is something about hair for a woman. Its rooted in her psychology, her physicality, her sensuality- that a trauma here, regardless that it grows back, wreaks havoc and devastation. I cursed the Universe wholeheartedly for being an asshole of mega-proportions over the timing of this. Not sure I've been that enraged since Mom's death. Was surely not as low. And, when I say low, I mean REALLY LOW. Self-ruin became my fantasy and pushed up the 'to-do' list. I had felt that the physical blow that this hair incident provided was the sign I needed to go completely AWOL. Fuck goals. Fuck trying. Fuck LIFE.

In this raw and uncensored state, my sister was there. Thousands of miles away, but there- via telephone. She issued words of encouragement, offered suggestions to mend my (literally) troubled head, and was quiet in complete presence while listening to my fiery laments. The only time she exerted her will was when I, in an attempt to 'fix' a bad situation with any action, declared that I was going to personally cut all of my hair off. She advised, gently, to make no rash decision while I was so emotional. That I was in no place to do that.

But, rash decisions are what I do best. I've had to make decisions, hard ones, when my peers were ruminating on what color dress to wear for prom. Distinctly, I remember a high school English project where we had to write about something that troubled us. I WISH I could have wrote about things like not knowing which guy I was going to say yes to for said prom or which college is best for me. No, I was writing damn near an essay on the legal morality of Euphanasia and my empathy of a particular man's public struggle with the matter. Because these were the subjects plaguing my soul. For years, I've resented this- and probably most unfairly-resented my peers and others around me.

And, I still battle with the resentment. I don't believe my experience of journeying with a loved one through dying and death to be unique, but I have not felt it to be very common amongst my peers. In my close relationships, I have stood out with this situation. The insensitivity of those around me, most recently, has been a struggle. So, I have been trying to find peace with this. Telling myself that some of my friends do not understand because they can't understand, not yet. But, I'm sorry to say that excuse doesn't go far with me. Unfortunately, I've realized that some don't understand because they can't understand- and they can't understand because they are too self-involved. Which led me to another discovery...The major people that I have had trouble relating to or inspiring genuine sympathy from have all been...

Male.

Every male relationship I have(save one or two family members and a friend of the family - all much older, by the way) has proven profoundly disappointing throughout this journey. Does this mean that all men are emotionally devoid of emotional sympathy? Nah. I don't think so. Does it mean they gain emotional depth past a later age? God, I hope not only then. Do I want to lament about the men in my life who have pissed me off with their self-absorption and insensitivity? No, not really, I've done that well enough. But, being the curious creature that I am, I could not help but think of what this observation means in regards to my journey...

What can I learn from this?

Once I woke up the next day from my hair trauma, having heeded my sister's advice and slept through the night without chopping my hair off- I decided to take another golden piece of advice from my sister and call a trusted hair professional for help. The woman was soooo generous of spirit and advised me to come right on over to meet her so that she could help me. This was in the middle of her day where she was spending time with her kids ice skating! What followed was her working through my mangle head offering wisdom after wisdom that seemed perfect for my present struggle. See I am so used to making decisions, Hard decisions, any decision- decisions when others stay stagnant- that I have to learn when NOT to make a decision. When to just be still. This is a hard pill to swallow for someone taking charge all of the time. This 'Hair Healer' continued to challenge me (unbeknownst to her) to perceive the world differently. She spoke, "When you have been placed in the middle of the ocean...You do not look up to God and lament, WHY?! You look up to him and ask, How?" All this and more she offered me as she did her best to heal my trauma, healing much more than the surface.

And, this led me to even more encounters. One of my best friends sends me solid and strong texts of a "I'll still be checking on you nature" after I tell her I'm going AWOL. My sister continues to be a rock, at one point proving her true solidarity by considering chopping off all of her locks if mine did not recover. Another good friend of mine who lives in Georgia, calls me and inspires me with more wisdoms- threading together what I feel is my LESSON- heeding me to relish in the feminine support I've been so washed with. To nurture and care for myself. To receive nurturing. She even said that hair caring is a very tender part of our physicality, such a ritual connected to our mothers- now is the time for me to ask for help and receive all of the bounty from this- from all of the WOMEN in my life. There is a reason I'm not receiving male attention. It is not the energy I need most now for my growth. There will be a time and place for that. Not at this moment.

And, I was warmed by this. It resonated. Receiving IS an Action. But, of a different nature. Its foreign to me. It has a different energy charge than that of resenting others for what they cannot nor will not give. I must let them go. I must embrace what I do have. Especially, when I am surrounded by a bounty of women wanting to offer the goodness of who they are. And, there are so many! From my counselor to Hair Healer, from one of my best friends who lives blocks away to the West coast woman I just Skyped, from my Georgia goddess to my beloved rock of a sister. There are even more now that I think about it-all becoming more and more available as of late.

The night of my lamenting, my sister said something big. She said that amidst my wailing and rage, she struggled. She wanted to be there for me (physically and emotionally). She let me go on and on. All she could think at one point, while I suffered and cried, was how much that in That moment- I was needing my mommy.
She said she did her best to do what she thought mom would do. She did beyond a good job. She did great.

When she said that, I, too, realized more. That I (she as well)...we are like little toddlers first learning to use a fork. At first, this a foreign custom. In a fit of impatience, the kid in throws the fork and resorts back to the baser use of her hands. I'm learning to eat, walk, and move all over again- because this time- I don't have mommy to help. Not in the physical sense. I'm having to learn how to do everything I've done before (and new experiences) without Her. That hurts. No way getting around that.

But, I am grateful. Because the mothering 'essence' is unveiling itself. If I will open myself to it. No resentment for what I don't have. Only acknowledgment of my surplus- The Generosity of the women in my life. With me, learning to receive it and savor it. A different kind of action. Drinking and eating of this goodness. Using my fork.