Journaling Flightiness

“As we go through the flightiness of time, dazed by the inebriety of our mental time voyage, we must hit the brakes, sometimes, and not shy away from questioning ourselves, when we wade through the tanning mist of our memory that embroiders our thoughts or distorts them. - Erik Pevernagie

Some gray area between vigilante and complacence is our need to make sure that we support one another in what we believe, whether we totally agree or not, and not merely tread water in these rough seas we are living in.  We are so used to fitting in to society, following antiquated traditions, doing the same ticky tacky thing as everyone else, that we forget that we, women, are the ones the Elders speak of when they speak of healing each other and Mother Earth. 

I watched a documentary on women of Afghanistan last night.  I could not believe that there are still small areas that believe their daughters are bartering material.  The idea of selling one's daughters is not in the Quran.  It is not part of Muslim society as a whole, but to find out that, like in every religion, there are some pockets of areas where men and brothers will kill the daughter or sister if she does not marry whom they choose.  The person doing the documentary, a woman journalist, a Muslim woman, was as brave as any woman could be to go to one woman's father and brother and question them on the 'why' of their daughter/sister being forced, kidnapped when she ran away and married who she wanted (another Muslim man she truly loved) and father and brother beat her fiercely and meant to kill her.  Even then (2012) she, and he, were jailed for six years.  Afghan women's group got her out (she had a baby while in the jail) and her son.  The father and brother said they will find her, even in America and she must kill her son and she would be killed.  When told that was not a law of religion of Muslim society, they said it did not matter, they'd do it because it had always been done then.  And, even when the father said that he needed her to take care of him, and saying he loved her, still he would kill her.  There were many women and children in the jail together for the crime of running away or having a lover. The warden of that part of the jail was a Muslim woman who did not agree that women and children should be there for such.   I was appalled.  The woman, who the documentary was about, was now in a safe house, that is kept secret and there are guards there. Should such matter to us, who are coddled and pampered and safe within families and religions that do not see us as total rejects?  Do we not owe the women at the US/Mexican border something?  What can we even begin to do?

I am old.  I have been coddled and lived in safety for the most part.  Any unsafe thing I did was due to my choices.  None of us were perfect and whatever 'perfect' means to each of us.  I gave service, my whole career, to those who could not stand up for themselves, or for those who simply do not know what 'normal' society is.  I fostered teenagers even before my career.  I did Women's Empowerment circles as long as I was able.  As you can see, I am still about empowering other sisters.  I have mentored young women.  I have supported them in as many ways as I could.  I think I had a sense that I owed women the easier way of living as I have known and to show them how one can go from one way of being to a healthier way of being.  I have tried to be a role model.  I have tried never to intercede when not asked to.  Whatever I have done is but a grain of fine sand in the world.  I am too tired to do much but lovingly encourage and empower.

We, women, have power beyond our ken.  Our very thoughts stir the ether.  Wr can no longer waffle.  Our Mother Earth is in such travail and travesty.  The people of the globe are traumatized with all of our societies and the dictates of such.  We have been monarchs in a cocoon.  We need to break through, dry and spread our wings, and take flight in any way we can to help our sisters of Mother Earth.  No matter how frazzled and tired we are, there is still time and space for us to fill, in any personal way we can.

When I did this illustration page, (as you can see, unfinished)) I had, before beginning, thought of what my life was and what I wished it to be in order to make a difference in the world.  I begin at home.  I begin with making myself that risen Monarch.  I am flighty, yes I am, and I can still do something, even little things, that might make a difference.

What difference do you make in the world, can you make in the world?  Can you express it in/on a journal page?  Yes, you can.  I can.  We can...make a difference.

©Carol Desjarlais 9.28.19