Theme Year: Freedom (a reflection on inner biases)

Last year, I did a theme year on the topic of Freedom. Together with three other women, we explored our individual themes, all the while giving each other support. I must say that this experiment very much resonated with me.

I started by looking at how my inner prejudices and biases limit my freedom of thought. There are quite a few of them to work on. Yet, for the sake of this blog post let's look at just one. As you might know, I am a feminist. In my heart lives an aspiring radical feminist, but outwardly, especially in my work world, I am a diminished feminist. 

Forty years working in various misogynistic predominately-male work fields has wore me down. So, one of the mechanisms for dealing with this was to develop a silent "old white guy"  not-worth-the-effort response. When faced with blatant misogyny, this thought would come into my mind. No sense in addressing the statement. No sense in holding a mirror to the person who holds sexist or "frauenfeindlich" beliefs. He is just another old white guy who has no idea what a jerk he is.

What I do now, which is freeing, is I stopped swatting away the old white guy thoughts. Instead, I concentrate on how often I think this and question how much this biased thought limits my ability to react or respond accordingly. Not that I confront each and every statement or feel a need to hold the person accountable. Rather, to look at the person and acknowledge how their words puzzle/hurt/confuse/estranged/anger me. 

So, essentially, I start with myself by acknowledging my bias and end with myself when I speak up, even quietly, and say I am not comfortable with their statement. This strategy might not seem radical. Yet, it has helped me stop saying in my mind, "old white guy" and start saying out loud, "be careful in the words you speak in my company".

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)        

Reverse psychology

Yesterday, was our monthly meet up to discuss our Year of Theme activities and processes. In my case, my year's theme is Freedom. It has been an interesting journey so far. The goal of making Freedom a daily focus has been surprisingly enjoyable and effortless. 

One thing that I would like to grow is a daily mediation practice. This is something that I have done for most of my adult life, but with longer pauses inbetween. There were times when it was a natural part of my day, but that has not been the case for the last 20 months of the pandemic. 

When I asked my friend, Karen, "How have your tastes changed as you have grown older?" she answered such:

 
"Probably a major way my tastes have changed has to do with meditation practice.  My mind became so sensitized that I am no longer interested in many of the books I used to read and movies I used to watch.  It’s surprising to discover how many books and movies are flippant about their characters or about life in general, or they are violent in a way that is meant to be entertaining (what is entertaining about seeing someone in pain?), or they are just no longer interesting because they don’t engage with the larger questions about life and its meaning and purpose."

This has left me with the idea of not indulging in my daily practice of watching YouTube videos for the next few months. Perhaps letting this behind will work reversely and help me back on the cushion.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash 

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)

My family tree

The botanical encyclopedia has pages and pages of illustrations of trees with their branches, bark, leaves, and roots. I stare, fascinated at the variety of them, all the colours, shapes and sizes. 

Their root systems, exposed without soil covering, seem oddly, embarrassingly intimate. The exposed roots reveal how nature accommodates the different types of soil, the changing seasons, and the push and pull of the hemispheres.

Momentarily, I ponder the generation after generation of my ancestors who migrated from one country to another, driven on by strife. There were those with deep, narrow roots whose lives were brutally severed by famines or wars. There were my parents’ generation who cut their tethers and sought freedom, or adventure, and, on some rare occasions, wealth.

 
And here I am, a collection of grafts of all their wanderings. I stand tall with bamboo-like agility with roots that are spread wide but never will grow deep.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)  

Safe harbour

I used to seek the wild oceans of passion
Never a North Star sighting,
No thoughts of treading with care,
Not a worry about my or my lover’s heart.
 
Then, at the birth of my son,
When my heart tore open and I finally
Amazingly knew love, from that
Moment on… I sought out
Safe harbours where I could gaze
Deep deep down to the bottom
Of the sea and marvel at the
Beauty, the wonder,
The love, the love, the love.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.) 

30-day challenge

In our theme year group, we have decided each to do a 30-day challenge. My Year of Freedom challenge is to read or listen to poetry every day. I truly feel as if poetry is a healing balm in life. It quiets pain and soothes suffering. I also believe that whether reading, hearing, or writing poetry, these simple acts are as close as I get to communion.
 
My three most common current sources of poetry are Poetry Unbound podcast, Poetry Archive, and an incredibly old, tattered paperback "Poems of Wang Wei". This later I have had so long and have read so often, it is falling apart as I read it now. Today's poem...
 
Bamboo Grove House (Wang Wei)
 
I sit alone in the dark bamboos
Play my lute and sing and sing
Deep in the woods where no one knows I am
But the bright moon comes and shines on me there.
 
This week's listening highlights... 
 
Matthew Olzmann
Mountain Dew Commercial Disguised as a Love Poem
 
Jean Binta Breeze
The arrival of Brighteye – an extract
 
Hanif Abdurraqib
When We Were 13, Jeff’s Father Left The Needle Down On A Journey Record Before Leaving The House One Morning And Never Coming Back

The Dead of Night

On the ocean there is no
Dead of night, instead 
Only one unending moment
Of life. There is a tapestry of
Stars wrapping the undulating
Waves in an embrace that
No man's arms can ever hold.
Or the dancing moonlight
Shimmering off the dolphins'
Backs that swim with ecstasy
Across the bow of the boat.
And I, at the wheel, gaze up
Around and within in wonder
And must remind myself
To breathe in the night air
Filled with salt and stardust.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.) 

Sneezing with sunlight

The first thing that came to mind when I saw the the following photo.

High tide brings the sand
Crawling upstairs to my door
I sneeze with sunlight.

(Here is another photo story I wrote a few years ago.)

Photo from Riley on Unsplash

After the tsunami

Years ago, while sailing the coast of Venezuela with my parents, we spent some days anchored off an uninhabited island that was only desert terrain. The reason it was so, was that apparently a tsunami had hit the island hundreds of years before and tore all the lush vegetation away. The following poem is written about an experience I had early one morning when I took the dingy over by myself to the island to explore.

I wander out onto the desert at dawn,
Its vastness is alive with intense colours 
Yet to be flattened by sunlight.
Instead, the oranges, reds, and browns are
Rarified by the rivulets of dewdrops. 
A collage of animal footprints pattern the
Sand with stories of their nightly hunt.
And then there, over there, 

A final signature, a primal swish

Of an iguana's tail marks the beginning
In this marvelous morn.

My system for Year of Freedom

 

Still working on the Year of Freedom. I started by creating a mind map of things I wanted…

• to do (e.g. continue with family podcast, restart yoga)
• to think about (e.g. be more aware of my biases, willingness to have uncomfortable conversations)
• to learn (e.g. to write haiku, to drive a car again)
• to explore (e.g. gratitude practices, my inner eccentric nature)
• to express and feel (e.g. lightness of being, the power of emotional language)  

The point of focusing a whole year on the word is to transform my aspirations from something internal into something tangible. I am letting my body and mind find a daily practice.

So, I started a monthly written reflection, a weekly checklist, and a daily gratitude practice. I do not write down what day I am to do what activity. Rather, I put down the ideas and see how well they take growth in my life. And then once a month, I meet with three amazing women to discuss what we have learned, and where we are in the flow of our word. It is a gentle way of inner exploration.. 

Drawing inspired by Andrew Ridley on Unsplash

Unsung heroes

We are meeting this morning to talk about our theme year. Today's exercise explores the questions, "Who would you invite to a dinner party if you could choose anyone living or departed?", "What would you talk about?", and "What would you serve?".

Deciding on the guest list was harder than I would have thought it would be. I did this before about 15 years ago, and even though I still more or less like the list of dinner guests, I wanted to invite some new guests. It took a while figure out the right strategy. Finally, I started looking at articles of "women in history". Some of the lists were very Hollywood-biased, others not.

There were quite a few on the various lists that I had now heard of, so I chose five. Then I added Emily Dickinson because her genius was not discovered before her death. Also, I needed a poet in the group. So my guest list is:  

• Shirley Chisholm (1924–2005)
• Miriam Makeba (1932–2008)
• Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)
• Junko Tabei (1939–2016)
• Mae Jemison (1956–)
• Mary Wollstonecraft (1759–1797)

I would like to invite them to have a picnic in the woods somewhere on the east coast of Canada on a warm autumn day. We would explore such questions as:

 
What was it like to live alone with a belief that you know is true and others feel is threatening?
What were you born with that others were not?
Describe your inner creative landscape?
Who or what was your greatest teacher?
 
Photo by Ahmad Omari and Mariah Hewines on Unsplash

Pumping water from the well

(Dave and Karen visiting the grandparents in Oxford Mills, Ontario)

When was the last time

That joy of discovery

Travelled across your smile?

Snow and Sundays

Sunday mornings and 

Snow that falls in the night

Create the best sound studio.

All traffic noise is filtered

Leaving only the slow pulse

Of the cold winter day outside. 

Something lost and something found

(This poem describes a wonderous experience I had while travelling on an ICE train rushing towards Berlin.)

The winter is longer then it is deep

Darker then is appropriate

Months and months of dull dense

Greys and browns. I sit in a

Second-class train compartment

Taking myself away from 

My children's constant whining

That they are bored and there is

Nothing to do... speeding towards

Berlin for a weekend alone with 

Strangers in museums and cafés.

I wipe away the condensation from 

The window with the sleeve of my

Fleece jacket. I gaze listlessly out

On to quickly passing towns and fields

In a trance, my eyes see even before

My heart, a field of thousand upon

Thousand of storks, swans, and geese

All standing still in the frozen fields

Resting, resting on their way up north

Ah, there it is, spring!

* This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.  

Sunrise

I have moved on from following tutorials about how to draw with Procreate to experimenting with the various brushes and filters. Slowly, soooo slowly, I gain both in curiosity and confidence with Procreate.

* This post is part of my Year of Freedom project. 

Theme of 2021: Year of Freedom

I am trying to come up with a "theme" for this year. I am wondering whether it should be the "Year of Improvisation"  or the "Year of Freedom".

* This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project and my Year of Freedom project.