I have realised a painful thing about these posts. Whilst it’s true that I am trying to look at points of view that are difficult for me, with a few of them I think I might be choosing people I secretly want to take the rise out of. I think a little of that is coming out in the writing. Maybe that’s understandable up to a point, but real empathy wouldn’t do that. So, I need to watch myself. Interesting, isn’t it, that in compassion for others the person we need to be judging is our self?
We had Mother’s Day in the UK yesterday. It’s a tough day for lots of people, for a myriad of reasons. I won’t bore you with mine. But when I think about mothers, and what I don’t understand about some of them, it is that whole “my amazing experience of this is superior to anything you could possibly grasp” attitude. It’s fairly rare in that form, thank goodness, but I find it hard to stomach. So, here’s my (hopefully rise free) attempt to “borrow” that sight.
I feel like I’ve had this incredible experience that is right at the heart of the world’s meaning, and nobody talks about it. Giving birth was not just a physical thing for me, it felt like a spiritual release as well. It opened up something in my heart and mind and centre that I am struggling to quantify or articulate. It was so life-changing. So much joy and wonder and pain all at the same time. Like an epiphany. And it has made me different. And that’s why I talk about it so much. You know how some religious people go on and on about their conversion? It’s really like that. I can’t help myself. I feel like someone let me in on the deep secrets of the cosmos, and I try to tell people about it, and they mostly just roll their eyes. It would be so great if I could process this into language or art, and get others to understand. But all I get is, “Get over yourself,” or “You’re not the only woman who ever gave birth, you know!” As though I didn’t know that! Women’s wisdom and insight is so unappreciated, and this is a source of grief that dampens this incredible joy in my soul.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017