A squirrel is running across the roof of the house across the street. Without my distance glasses, I can barely make him out. Yesterday, I had to stop to let a flock of wild turkeys cross the road. There is a deer family that often trots down the street or nibbles grass in the front yard. This morning, the wind is moving the branches of six towering trees. I suddenly realize that I only look at the center of the grove, not the outer branches.
When I pay attention to my face, I notice how I am always clenching my jaw. I feel peaceful this morning, yet my lower jaw is rigid. I have to make a conscious effort to let it go. When my attention drifts off to somewhere else, it clenches up again. Am noticing more lines around my chin, marionette lines. I need to have a slight smile on my face all the time to even these lines out. I also have a double line near the corner of my mouth that is starting to resemble a triangle. I like these lines. My face is growing into its crone beauty. I am very happy with my appearance.
Yesterday I found a pair of $150 leather boots on sale for $59, they were the last pair in my size. My housemate has been urging me to buy new shoes as I usually wear the same shoes everyday. It’s hard for me to grasp the idea that certain shoes go with certain clothes. I could wear the same clothes and shoes everyday and never give it a thought. Maybe she’s trying to make an old hermit more acceptable to society.
It’s not that I don’t like design or beauty. I recently bought two, gleaming, tri-clad stainless steel pans and greatly admire them. I also enjoy the beauty of the deer, the multi-colored turkeys, the trees across the street and my aging face. When I relax and pay attention, I find almost everything beautiful. It is the repetitive banality of discursive thinking that makes things ugly for me. In archaic philosophy, discursive means proceeding by argument or reasoning rather than by intuition. Yes, this was exactly the word I was looking for.
Most of my life proceeds from intuition. Lately, whenever I feel myself tensing up, I call upon the loving female presence within me to smooth out whatever is getting tangled. As a woman I am a mother, and as a mother I can mother myself. The common assumption about mothering is that it involves giving love to others. What if all women turned this around, what if they took the energy they give to others and gave it to themselves instead?
It’s a radical thought isn’t it, women reclaiming their energy? After centuries of being told that it’s our natural duty to give, can we reverse this and give to ourselves?
Lately, I have been noticing when certain things ring false. When I watch advertising or listen to a politician, I think, “that’s bullshit.” And after I realize something is bullshit, I withdraw my attention from it. I still feel human enough to separate what is true from what is false. Just because something is faddish doesn’t make it true. I like the feeling of power that comes from reclaiming what is true for me and integrating this into my daily activites. The world gets simpler and more beautiful when I do.