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Business Baby Shower - Special Guest: Brenda Ropoulos

8/18/2010

 
Our business baby shower gifts continue (see post on 8/16/2010 for explanation).

Today, we're opening up one from Brenda. She answers the question:
How does your fun little girl self show up in your life now?

My three-year-old self ... both a wonderment and a troublemaker!

"My three-year-old self shows up to help me experience all the innocent joy and wonderment that the Universe shares ... she spots and takes time to smell a beautiful flower ... stops to admire an amazing ant carrying ten times his weight ... is in awe of the beautiful colors of the world and wonders how they can be so amazing ... has to touch every interesting thing -- the velvety softness of a leaf or the smoothness of paper or the hardness of a shell ... she breathes the air deeply to capture the smell of the ocean or the wild herbs growing by the side of a trail or the heady fragrance of tomatoes on the garden vine.

She giggles. She laughs out loud ... often and sometimes inappropriately. She often cannot keep a straight face when others are being too serious and wonders why the heavy stuff has to be so important to them. She talks to animals and creepy crawlers and fully expects that they understand and engage with her. She prefers to eat dessert first ... and in this, she often gets her way.

She's been known to declare "mine!" and sometimes she stamps her foot when things don't go exactly her way ... always creating enormous embarrassment immediately afterward for her grown-up self. She loves mischief and has been known to reach in to scoop out the guts of a pumpkin and throw them at companion carvers, or to engage in toothpaste fights ... realizing much to her
grown-up chagrin that she must clean up the mess afterward. She dives into water and runs through hoses. She does scary stuff in grown-up eyes ... she loves to climb trees.

My three-year-old is sensitive, and absorbs the pain of others: she feels the hurt in a wounded animal, the loneliness or confusion of a homeless person, and the stoic sadness of a child who has to go without. She wants to reach out, to cuddle or hug all of them, to make them feel better, to want them to know they are loved. And she encourages her grown-up self to open her checkbook, dig for coins, offer a kind word or encouragement, to smile if nothing else, and to trust.
 
Sometimes her feelings get hurt when she experiences the reproachfulness of those who don't necessarily appreciate the antics of a three-year-old. But she forgets the hurts very quickly and bounces back joyfully.

She loves to imagine. And leaves it up to her grown-up self to execute on her dreams and ideas, but is never far behind to remind the grown-up that this should all be fun.

That's my three-year-old. And she's very excited about your new adventure!"


Filakia (Kisses),
~ Brenda Ropoulos

http://bropoulos.wordpress.com


Business Baby Shower - Your little girl is invited! Special Guest: Elissa Stein

8/16/2010

 
Recently, I announced the launch of my life and wellness coaching business, Creating Feminine Health.

I sent a request to a group of dear women friends for their ideas about a business baby shower. After all, this was my first baby, and it seemed appropriate we have a shower. One friend suggested I invite my friends to write guest blog posts. I loved her idea, and, at the same time, I knew all of my friends were crazy-busy this summer – so I came up with a mini-version that will hopefully be fun for everyone. Because my new business is all about creating wellness and the life of our dreams, in the middle of a coaching workshop my three-year-old self announced that she was no longer going to sit in the background. Now, it was time to have fun, to play. “Joy is here to stay!”

So, at her insistence, I asked my friends to share their response to the following question:

“How does your fun little girl self show up in your life now?”

My email inboxes have been transformed into business baby shower gift boxes, and each day my delighted little girl finds a new surprise inside.  After much cajoling (she’s very stubborn!), I have convinced her to share our friends’ lovely gifts with you. Because there are many, please check back. Our Feminine Revelations’ blog has agreed to host our business baby shower. And as you read along, why not ask yourself the same question. Your fun little girl is invited to play, too.

Here we go:
How does your fun little girl self show up in your life now?

"I LOVE riding my bike. Love love LOVE! After years of never even thinking about riding, I rediscovered this summer what a joyful, freeing, delicious, enervating experience it us to fly down the road, wind whipping my hair, heart pumping, laughter bubbling.”


 
~ Elissa Stein, author of FLOW
    www.elissastein.com
Picture
Let's ride bikes!

Sarah's Story

3/29/2010

 
My childhood friend Sarah shared an amazing story with me last week. I have been encouraging her to write, because her stories are so profound and would benefit us all. She has graciously agreed to share this story with us, not because I finally wore her down, but because she realizes that this story is timely and can provide inspiration for all of us at a time when we are struggling with holding on and letting go, finding faith and courage to make the necessary changes that are being asked of us.

This story is one that inspires faith, faith that we have exactly the help that we need when we need it, along with the reassurance that many will join with us in our purpose if it is to the benefit of all. A Doe’s Lesson in Surrender exemplifies the strength and courage we all carry to live our purpose. And, perhaps above all else, this story illustrates the important connection between life, death and rebirth, the healing and transformative power of the feminine.

It’s a longer story than most posted here, but if you take the time to read it, you’ll be rewarded with and strengthened by its powerful lessons.

Thank you, Sarah, for sharing your healing story with us.

 A Doe’s Lesson in Surrender by Sarah Alexander

I had just dropped my daughter Leora off at school, and was on my way down winding Arlington Avenue to take my son Ryan to his preschool. Just opposite the local park, and past the new house that had just been completed, a doe was thrashing around on the road near the curb. Someone had hit her and hadn’t pulled over. People were speeding by on their way to work, swerving to avoid the deer but not slowing down. It was a sobering sight. Ryan was alarmed and sad. ”Help the deer, mommy,” he pleaded. I told him I would try.

I parked just past the doe and approached her, trying to reach Lindsay Wildlife Sanctuary on my cell phone. No one was there yet; it was too early. The deer was seriously injured, terrified, and in danger of throwing herself further into the road where she would get run over. What else could I do? She was too heavy for me to lift by myself, and I could worsen her injury. I stood looking around, helplessly, wishing I could make her safe and willing for assistance. Just then a man approached with a very concerned look on his face. He said his name was Andy, he was a neighbor, and he knew this doe; he’d watched her as she grew from a fawn. Together we lifted her to the ground, off the street and away from another collision. He touched her gently, familiarly. She didn’t withdraw from the touch, and I knelt down and began to stroke her. She was trembling with shock and pain. I looked straight into her eye and gently told her,”It’s okay, we’ve come to help. You’re safe now.” She instantly became calmer. Every so often she would start thrashing again in an effort to stand, but the movement only hurt her more. She was bleeding out of her backside; I had blood on my right hand from lifting her.

I didn’t want to leave her; she seemed to be comforted by our touch and the sound of my voice. I was worried she would become frightened again and get herself back onto the street. Andy, a kind looking man in his late 60's, was also scared and anxious about his friend. Ryan was still in the car; I needed to go to him. But I couldn’t bring him to the deer, and I didn’t want to leave her either. I was so torn. Again, I wished for more assistance.

Suddenly one of the moms from Leora’s school drove up, parked, and purposefully approached me, asking if I wanted her to go to Ryan. Not whether she should stay with the deer and I should go to Ryan; she was very clear. I thanked her warmly and said yes. She stayed with Ryan the entire time it took for my story to unfold.

Another man arrived, saying he worked for the county and he had the number for Animal Services, which he was already calling. Meanwhile, two police officers showed up in their squad car and were crossing the street to us. I remember clearly as each person arrived and approached us, as though they were entering a stage on cue from an unseen director.

There was a senior officer in charge, accompanied by a very green rookie. The rookie was young, blond, with a very soft and gentle face. Andy became concerned he’d be late for an appointment; I offered to take his number and phone him later so he would know what had happened. He was deeply grateful, and told me he’d go call the person he was scheduled to meet. Perhaps he could arrange to stay.

I looked at the senior officer now. He appeared to be a very well defended man. His body was hard and tense, his facial features rigidly set. He mechanically pronounced that the animal’s back was broken and they’d have to dispatch it. I looked up sharply, and asked him how he knew for sure; had he spoken with Animal Services? He pointed to her spine and the fact she couldn’t get to her feet. Suddenly it came clear to me that he was right. I hadn’t wanted to see. From the moment I had arrived I’d had a goal; keep the doe safe until someone could save her life. A barely perceptible but profound transformation took place then in my heart. I was no longer there to help the doe live; I was there to help her die.

Meanwhile Senior Officer was repeatedly suggesting that I back away from the deer. ”This is a wild animal, ma’am; she can really hurt you. It’s a liability; really, please back away immediately.”  I ignored him the first two or three times. When he repeated himself again, I looked straight into his eyes and told him that I’ve worked quite a lot with wild animals, that this deer trusted me and she was responding to my reassurance. I wasn’t leaving. He was about to object when the doe made a supreme effort to hoist her torso up into the air, landing with her head and neck cradled in my arm. The officers stared. I looked down into her face. I stroked her neck as I would stroke Leora’s or Ryan’s, caressing her head, her nose, the space between her ears. She let out a long sigh, perfectly still. She stared up at me, softly. She was calm; all the pain and terror of before seemed to have vanished. No one suggested that I should leave after that.

Everyone stood still and silent as I sat with the deer for several minutes. Then Andy came back, saying he had been able to reschedule his appointment. I told him what the officers had said, that they were going to shoot her; there was no option. He instantly started to cry. ”Are you sure?” he asked me. ”Do you trust them? Do you think this is really what has to be done?” “Yes,” I answered. Something shifted in all of us then. Andy placed his hand next to mine on the doe’s neck. Together we gently lowered her to the ground.

The younger officer was being offered one of his rites of passage on the force. He slowly removed his gun from its holster, looking very sad and reluctant. His senior suggested we all drive off so we wouldn’t have to see this. He didn’t want to see this. But there was no question about leaving. I leaned close to the deer and assured her she was going to be okay, she was soon going to be out of pain and free to run wherever she wanted. Andy and I stepped back. But the young officer couldn’t shoot her. His hand was trembling terribly. I approached him and gently advised him to look at her. “Talk to her,” I said. “Touch her. Look her in the eye.””To my surprise, he knelt down and placed a hand gently on her flank. With his head inclined toward her face, he spoke quietly to her. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I imagined he was telling her how sorry he was for what he had to do. If he had young children at home, I knew what kind of father he must be. I saw his shoulders relax as he stood again. This time he raised his gun and leveled it at her, his arm steady and his eyes focused but kind. He pulled the trigger and fired one clean shot.

I cried out as the deer threw her body up in response to the bullet entering her heart. Andy and I ran to her side. I continued to talk to her gently, to stroke her, as her heart reacted to the shot. She was calm between contractions, steadily gazing at me. Andy had his hand on her forehead. Suddenly, Senior Officer knelt down for the first time and gently lifted her head off the curb and onto the soft grass. “So she won’t be on the hard pavement,” he explained.

I could feel the exact moment she left her body. Andy felt it too. Her body was still in the process of dying, but she was gone. She was safe now, out of pain, at peace.

The officers immediately commenced with the business of calling and waiting for the animal control people to come and dispose of the body. They didn’t address us further.

Andy and I walked silently back to my car, noticing the sign I had placed in the rear window after the events of 9/11. Love is Stronger than Fear.”It was then that Andy noticed the blood on my hand and ran to get a bottle of alcohol. He busied himself with squirting the liquid into my hand and tearing off pieces of paper towel as I needed them. It was something to do, a sacred part of the ritual. Jan, the woman who had stayed with Ryan this whole time, said he had been wonderful; he told her all the names of his Thomas the Tank Engine Trains. I thanked her for staying with him. She, in turn, thanked me. She told me it had been clear to her that I was meant to stay with that deer, and she had wanted to help me to do that. Then I thanked Andy, who gently said, “Thank God you were here. You deal with death a lot better at your age than I do at mine.”” We shook hands warmly. He and Jan crossed the street and drove off, after Jan had asked me several times if I was okay, was I going to be able to drive, was I sure....

I looked at Ryan in his car seat, the two of us alone now, and he was perfectly calm. I smiled and told him, “Mommy helped the deer.” He smiled back at me and asked,”Is she moving now, mommy?” I paused only a moment before answering, with absolute certainty, “Yes, she’s moving now.””

Two years later, my Ryan wrote a story for his Writer’s Workshop in 1st grade. I didn’t see or hear about the story until I attended Open House in the Spring. Here’s how the story began:  My Mommy saved a deer by helping her die. It ended like this: And now, every time we drive by Arlington Park, I feel happy.”


©2002-2010 by Sarah Alexander.  
Reprint in any form is not permitted without permission of author.

Robbie's Story

2/10/2010

 
I introduced you to photojournalist Robbie Kaye in the blog post Timeless Beauty. I asked Robbie about how her experience of documenting these older women in her Beauty of Wisdom project has influenced her life. She has graciously agreed to share her answer and insight with us:

 As I approached turning fifty, I started thinking about my future as a woman, as a person. In “Beauty of Wisdom,” I was fortunate to photograph and interview my elders, women in their seventies and above, and I felt like I was looking into their eyes searching for who I was to become.  Every single woman I met had a gift to share; an anecdote, humor, poignant words about aging and about their sacred connection to their hairstylist.  If I wrote a thank you note to all the women of Beauty of Wisdom and all the women that they represent it would read something like this:

Dear Women of age and beauty,

Thank you for providing a look into my own future, one that is now filled with inspiration and enthusiasm.  You have shown me what real courage is, the kind that comes from embracing life fully without expectation, except to be happy and connect to people.  You have reminded me what is important in life with your anecdotes and stories and pearls of wisdom.  Thank you Ellen, 70, from New Orleans, for reminding me to live authentically and Mrs. Guste, 89, who enlightened me about owning things. 
Her house was looted during Hurricane Katrina and all her jewelry was stolen, all the jewelry that her husband ever gave her…and she was wearing white plastic pearls and said, “everything is on loan, it’s all borrowed and when it goes away, it’s time to give it back.” Their lines on their faces, their white snowy hair, their hands strong with evidence of hard work and deep love gave me reasons to look forward to my own aging process and not to fear it or be ashamed by it.  There was not an ounce of shame present, maybe shyness, but no shame.  Now I have more role models than ever, to follow in their footsteps, my own mother and Lillian, who shared emails between her and her friends on the topic of aging in ways that kept me laughing and honoring their position in this life. I thank them for their “take me as I am” attitude, which gives us all permission to live in that way if we choose…as they have done, with no regrets as they still look forward in their lives….and to their weekly ritual of going to the beauty parlor where they connect with other warriors like themselves…who have been going for most of their adult lives, attending to their self-care in more ways than just getting their hair styled.  Thank you for leading the way….you all are quite visible to me. 


With love and gratitude,


Robbie 

Thank you, Robbie. I hope that we may all experience the deep wisdom and beauty of those who have traveled this earth before us.

Lisa's Story

8/9/2009

 
I received a letter from Lisa that I would like to share with you. She has graciously agreed to allow me to do so. Lisa addresses many societal issues that we, as women, face, including our society’s obsession with physical perfection, distorted body image and the resultant effects on our girls. She also addresses her path toward healing, which included her taking responsibility for all aspects of her health, finding meaning in her life (in her case, through her religious beliefs) and opening herself up to the help and support of others. She also describes the decisions that she had to make when she chose “health,” decisions that required her to let go of people, beliefs, and activities which no longer supported her growth. Last, and perhaps most important, she describes the gifts of listening to her inner wisdom and allowing gratitude to flow into her life.

As you read through her story, ask yourself the following:

1.  What false beliefs am I holding?
2.  What and who needs to be released from my life?
3.  Where do I find meaningfulness?
4.  Who will support me on my new path?

Rebecca,

 I appreciate you sharing your knowledge and insight, not only from a clinical perspective, but from that of a beautiful woman in the midst of life. In response to your post about cellulite on the ankles, I said “every one of my lines, bumps and blemishes tells my life story—good and bad—they make up our beauty if ‘all’ is appreciated.” It has taken me a long time to come to this place of acceptance—one of my epiphanies coming as recently as three weeks ago. I have struggled with weight problems my entire life, and throughout this was my mother’s constant emphasis that I needed to be thin. Not thin to be healthy, but thin to be physically beautiful, like there is something wrong with you if you are not. This type of message still continues to be sent to young women and men through the media, and the parent or caregiver needs to be the first line of defense against this.

When my daughter gained quite a bit of weight in high school, I was concerned about her physical and emotional health—not her looks. She was not eating well and was becoming sedentary. I continued to encourage the development of her mind and involvement in extracurricular activities. I allowed her to try anything she wanted—music, sports, art—my only rule was that once she committed to the activity or team, she had to stick out the season.

 Shortly after she moved away to college, my former husband packed a suitcase and left me for another woman. I was completely alone, lost and grossly overweight. This prompted my first realization that I could turn a negative into a positive, and I began taking control of my health—my physical health, my emotional health, and my spiritual health. Every single one of these was a vital component in my healing and growth. I lost 50 lbs. through diet and walking, found an excellent therapist, surrendered my troubles to Christ, and found a wonderful church home. 

 I was humbled to learn that I was highly regarded in my community, as I always felt I was in the shadow of my ex-husband. I learned who did not have my best interests at heart and I said goodbye to those “friends” and sought out more positive ones. I also found a mentor, a dear, sweet but firm woman, older and wiser than myself.

So back to the lines, bumps, blemishes and acceptance. When I lost all my weight, I lost the plumpness in my face, and the lines became so visible. I was also upset that no matter how hard I worked out I could not get parts of my body the way I wanted them. That old damaging program was still running somewhere in the back of my mind. Through my biblical studies I learned it was time to get back to being the woman God intended me to be. I must assume responsibility for myself and not be the product of what my mother, my father, or this world did or did not do to me or for me. Through my mentor I learned that I must guard my thoughts, that no one can make me feel bad about myself or make me have a bad day unless I give them permission to.

So equipped with all this new armor, I began to look for happiness within and to listen to the still small voice. I started to take stock of all of the good things about myself and developed a new found gratitude. While my stomach may never be as flat or my derriere as tight as I would like, I love my neck, my shoulders and my décolletage. I used to hate my height because I felt it was another thing that made me “big.” Now I feel blessed to have long strong legs that can carry me wherever I want to go. I am grateful that God has blessed me with a good heart, full of love and compassion. I love having a broad sense of humor and a hearty laugh. I appreciate it when someone compliments my warm smile, or tells me they like my energy and feel good when they are around me. I am deeply touched when someone says what a fine young woman my daughter is and what a good mother I am. And yes, I have even made my peace with those lines on my face. Each one represents the track of a tear or the deep trace of smile, and the wisdom gained from each one of those experiences. I have never felt more beautiful, or happier to be a woman in my life.

Warm regards,

Lisa
 

Thank you, Lisa, for sharing your story with us.

For relevant posts, please see Ankle Cellulite and Who is Fighting for Her Feminine. We would love to hear your thoughts. Please comment here or on the blog posts. If any of you would like to share your healing story, please e-mail to:
rebecca@rebeccaelia.com



Recovering "Honorary Man"

6/19/2009

 

I would like to introduce my friend Laurie, an accomplished business woman, wife and mom, who has graciously agreed to share her story with us about her own struggles with infertility and the subsequent adoption of her daughter.

I was reminded of her story recently because of all the much-needed attention that actress Nia Vardalos is drawing towards the 129,000 U.S. foster care children ready for adoption today. She did so by sharing her own infertility struggles and the subsequent joy of adopting of her daughter.

As you read through Laurie’s story, please think of yourself and the sacrifices you have made in order to fit into our masculine-principled culture. Remember, whether you are a mother or not, whether you have experienced infertility or not, if you are a part of our culture, then Laurie's story is our story:




The virtual whack of the 2' x 4' plank from the universe came in the form of a charging dog at the dog park one day when my daughter was two months old. I had been running through life at eighty miles an hour for years. That single-minded focus on accomplishment and utter lack of awareness of most things personal (my health, relationships, etc) were forced to a halt and a major life shift began.

To take a few steps back, I had always wanted to be a Mom. After five years of marriage and a couple of years living in Europe doing whatever we wanted, my husband and I decided we were ready for the next step – parenthood, and we were not prepared for the news during the first pre-natal visit that there was a “demise’ at 6.2 weeks. We had no idea what a quest the next four years would bring.

About two years into our efforts to become parents, I was in Japan with my boss/friend on a business trip. We had a week of meetings with customers and executives in the field office.  Cultural norms in Japan often separate men and women. For American executives from abroad, the norms were flexible, giving us an unofficial status as “honorary men,” and allowing meetings and dinners with Japanese men to be acceptable. I recall one night at dinner on our own when my friend shared the news of her impending adoption and I shared our challenge to become parents. Her advice was to get as aggressive with the fertility technology as quickly as possible.  At the time I hadn’t been aware of the impact of the imbalance of the masculine and feminine. The drive for success, long hours, personal sacrifice that resulted in this “honorary man” status I was secretly proud of, were likely strong contributing factors as to why my feminine nature was suppressed and why my biological procreation ability wasn’t functioning.

For two more years we tried nearly everything Western and Eastern medicine could offer to assist our quest to become biological parents. IUI, IVF, injections, pills, tests, acupuncture, herbs, fertility diets, supplements, avoidance of wine and hot baths; we really ran the process like a project. We had several other “false starts” but were still childless. In parallel, I never slowed down at work, steadily increasing my responsibilities, driving ever forward with my masculine-dominated approach. Eventually, in a moment of clarity, we finally decided we’d had enough of the invasive and painful procedures and we just wanted to be parents. 

We chose adoption. We were rewarded with a lightning-fast process and exactly one month after filing the final paperwork, we were in the car making the four hour drive to meet our new daughter. That first meeting was epic and the two weeks we spent in the hospital with Charlotte a true gift. Back at the office, clouds were forming. My long time mentor and boss had been fired, the company I had built my career with had been sold and my new boss wasn’t exactly pro “working mom.” To be honest, I wasn’t always pro working mom until I became one. I decided to take a three month leave to bond with our new daughter.

Three weeks before I was supposed to return from leave to my “big” job, the dog park incident resulted in a very broken leg, surgery, a hospital stay and months of recovery. I didn’t know it at the time, but this was the beginning of the shift in thinking and awareness of all that I was missing in my single-minded focus on my career and moving ahead. My rehab was then spent on the couch, my leg in a motion machine, my daughter by my side content to lounge with me for hours at a time. 

Returning back to work from leave, I found the company was in the middle of acquisition chaos. My role changed and I negotiated the ability to work from home full time. For eight months, the former driven-professional who had worked 12-14 hour days, always in the center of the action and on the hardest projects, spent 24 hours a day at home with the family, enjoying motherhood. I was transitioning to a working lifestyle where I learned to meet the needs of my career in a new and, much to my surprise, equal, if not more effective, way. 

My daughter is now four years old. She has been my catalyst for balance. I continue to be the sole bread-winner for the family, but I have new-found priorities. I still have a big job with big responsibilities, but I have transitioned to operations rather than the high-profile customer-facing roles of my past. I can make a big contribution to the company, and leave the office at 4 pm each day to be home with the family. Plus I work from home at least one day a week. I have a better sense of what is “enough” for my career and take advantage of every minute beyond that to be a wife and mother and just me. This prioritization requires tradeoffs and flexibility, something my old “honorary man” self had no patience for. The result is magic. Giving me and my colleagues latitude for this flexibility empowers everyone to be more creative and to get things done. We are much more a collective at the office, striving for team success over individual ambition. 

That broken leg was one of the best things to happen to me. The situation created the space for me to step into the most rewarding role of my life: being a mother. I also learned a new way to be successful in my career and to be “enough” rather than constantly striving for more. I have since read many articles about the imbalance of masculine and feminine resulting in physiological issues like mine. Would I have made the big shift on my own? Probably not. I am so grateful for my professional accomplishments and the opportunity and abundance they have afforded. Charlotte was my destiny and has brought me true joy. 

I recently was back in Japan, reflecting on how far I had come in the six years since that first trip. My work priority this time was to understand the local operations and how my team can make them successful. No high-powered meetings like I had during my last trip. It was a week of collaboration and relationship building and taking the time to learn more about the culture. Just like a person balancing on a board atop a cylinder, the masculine and feminine in me are in constant calibration. I now consider myself a recovering “Honorary Man.” The peace and confidence that comes with this balance is worth every bit of the effort.

 

Laurie’s story includes so many issues relevant to women in our American society—the struggle between balancing our multiple roles, the expectations and rewards for participating in the male business world, the split between our feminine and masculine identities and the toll this split/imbalance takes on our bodies and our lives. She addresses the differences in our culture, comparing us with the Japanese. She describes the unbelievable tragic loss of a child, which far too many women experience, along with the incredible joys of motherhood. She addresses the changes that we willingly make for our children, the same changes that we refuse to make for ourselves. And she addresses so many wonderful feminine qualities that are ignored and devalued in our society.

I hope that her story has inspired you to look at these issues in your own life, reflect on what is out of balance for you and recognize the consequences of this imbalance. Look at all that Laurie gained by her new choices. I hope that you are inspired to take the next step towards balance and that, unlike so many of us,  you won’t need to be hit by a dog or a mack truck in order to do so! Ask yourself what you are sacrificing and what you are gaining, both now in your present situation and later with the changes you are called to make.

Please consider sharing your thoughts, experiences, and stories with us. We would also love to hear about your “successes” in obtaining balance, no matter how small they may appear to you.



 

Christina's Greece

6/3/2009

 

I received a lovely e-mail from Christina that describes her memories and experiences of her Greece. I would like to share this with you, because her words contained the healing feminine properties of our connection to the earth and its elements, the security and peacefulness of home and the restorative quality of escaping the busyness of life. She helped remind me to consider how I find these same qualities in my everyday life. I hope that her words will bring you the same peace that they brought me and transport you to a very special place. She writes:

           I am in complete agreement with you, Doctor, Greece itself, is a linear suspension of time.  If one is open to her and anything she has to offer, Greece both amazes and heals.  Our beloved second home is filled with such memes.  Images, smells, sounds and tastes so primal they sustain one even in the most crowded and cluttered moments of our busy lives.   Often when I have reached a limit to my stamina, the memory of the panoramic view of my mother’s village (Rizes – Arcadia) from a neighboring mountain top or memory of a once in life time taste of a lovingly crafted moustokoulouro (Dimitsana) can tame even the most challenging of days or situations.  For reassurance one can reflect upon Limpovisi the mountain home of, at once the most heralded and persecuted hero of all of Greece and the base camp for the Filiki Eteria.  A place that exudes a sense of perseverance and if one is quiet enough one can hear the hooves of the Heros’ horses as they approach the nearby church carrying their hurried masters to where a Priest prayerfully and dutifully awaits to administer Holy Communion.
          For inspiration I can tap back into the electrifying state one can experience in the sea between the Islands of Hydra and Spetses, if one is quiet enough you can still hear Boumboulina’s orders rising from the waves and the sound of the ancient sails flapping in the breeze in harmony with the new ones.  There is a spot in this sea whispers the chants of continued hope and gratitude for freedom, but also cries out for humanity to awaken from their conscious / unconscious slumber.

Regards,
Christina



 

Greek Men

4/28/2009

 

In response to Barbara's story, Cara brought up an important point about Greek men and how women are treated in Greece. I am posting it here, along with my response, for all to see, because it is a common topic of conversation. How can a place that has so many feminine qualities also be home to male chauvinism? I have observed a change for the better in the last twenty years, but it is true that foreign women are not necessarily treated with the utmost respect.

Cara wrote:
"I'm delighted to hear women in Greece are generally respected and valued. I spent a month there in 1999 and loved it. However, I was sexually harassed by more men there than in any of more than a dozen other countries I've visited. From what Barbara writes, I appreciate that I perhaps received a skewed introduction to male-female relations. Certainly, there were a few Greek men who behaved gentlemanly to me: one stranger gave me a mad motorbike ride through a ferry terminal, to help me make my boat on time!"

Hi Cara,
Unfortunately, you are not alone in your experience. Women aren't necessarily treated well in Greece, especially single foreign women. Just because Greece may bring out the feminine within us doesn't mean that women are treated well. There is a general respect for family, and mothers hold a lot of power as far as their sons are concerned. It took me awhile to realize that this means that Greek mothers also have the power to shape their children's values. They must, on some level, value this chauvinism. I see this pattern changing somewhat with the younger generations, but I find that modern-day Greece still reflects the inequality that existed between genders in ancient Athens. Even Athena herself, in some ways, reflects more masculine than feminine wisdom. Perhaps this very duality is exactly what brings the feminine out in me when I am there. I am glad that you brought this up. Too often people assume that when a society expresses feminine characteristics that it means that this same society also values women, but, in fact, the opposite is often true. Look at India!
Rebecca 

Reconnecting with Her Feminine in Greece

3/23/2009

 

The Feminine is expressed in varying degrees and in different ways within each culture. Barbara, an English woman, moved to Greece and has reconnected with her Feminine there.  She has allowed me to share her written comments with you:

“I waited ‘til I turned sixty in order to find my femininity, but I am in Greece, and have a wonderful relationship with a Greek man. That says a lot, but also it’s reflective of the time when I had to work for a living in a society dominated by men, and work with men as the heads of departments. It was very difficult to make any decision related to the caring side of [our] clients’ lives (I was a social worker for over twenty years) without being questioned by men who didn’t understand.  I am now happier than I’ve been in my [whole] life, doing what I want to do, and not feeling I have to explain that I’m a woman and glad about it. I feel Greek men have a much greater understanding of a woman’s world than the men in the U.K.  My feelings of femininity are allowed a free reign, and my Greek man enjoys that difference--and so do I!”

She also adds,”…small kids in Greece are taught to respect women from a young age. I don’t think that happens in the U.K.  Also, you must look at the way of life here.  I open my shutters and see the mountains. The sea is 200 meters away; I hear it from the house. I live with lots of animals which brings out the caring and nurturing side of me. All my senses are met here, smell, touch, sight. A woman’s insight is also met here; the whole country of Greece is filled with sixth senses, which I believe we women pick up on, but men don’t.”

Thank you for sharing your experiences, Barbara.

I hope that those of you who have experienced life in other cultures will share your thoughts with us. When we live in a culture that is masculine-dominant, we need to find ways to bring the Feminine back into balance. Some of us have done this by living in two worlds simultaneously.   Barbara also represents all of the women of her generation and older who have had to struggle with the constraints of living in a masculine-dominant society. We have these women to thank for navigating these difficulties for us and making our pursuit of balance just a bit easier.

A Sample Story...Out of the Infinite Possiblities

3/13/2009

 

Hi everyone.  I am providing a story from my own experience as an example. 

There are many feminine qualities.  Let me name a few:  creating, nurturing (ourselves and others), receiving, being, letting go, creating relationships and community, intuition, feeling.

I will use the creation of this website as an example.  Only two weeks ago, this site was a tiny thought in my head.  I had never created a website before; I had no idea where to start or how to do it.  I was hesitant to do so, because I’ve always been a rather private person.  I knew, however, that it was essential, that my days of anonymity were over.  If I am to bring a larger audience together to support the Feminine, then a website is necessary (creating community).  I wanted my endeavor to be helpful to others (nurturing, giving).

 I have reached a crossroads in my life; I will soon turn fifty.  This year is my gift to me, to stop, re-evaluate what is important (being), and clean out all of the old stuff that no longer supports me (letting go).  Little did I know how much wonderful energy would be freed to power the creations in the next half of my life! This has been an exceptionally creative time for me.  Not only am I creating the website, but I am writing as well.  Each chapter is a new creation and catharsis.  I am also putting more effort into speaking, which I love.  All of these creative pursuits are nurturing me, and I’ve never been more content!

I received a wonderful surprise that I never anticipated-- all of the tremendous help and support I have received from all of you women (creating community, giving)!  Many of you I barely know, or didn’t know until recently.  For example, one special woman (my sister-in-law’s sister-in-law),  e-mailed me helpful late-night suggestions from an airport in Japan.  Her suggestions led to contacts with three women:  a recently published author, a co-Fem Gyn, and an extremely helpful I.T. gal.  All of this in less than two weeks!

The other surprising gift is that, in the last two weeks alone, I have reconnected with over eighty people.  The feminine ability to create community is extremely powerful!

Everyone, you don’t need to analyze your healing story, just send it in.  I’ll introduce each of you, and we will all benefit!

Happy creating!
Rebecca

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    Authors

    Authors of these stories are all of you who have experienced healing and balance through reclaiming the Feminine in your lives.
    Congratulations, and       thank you for sharing your stories with us!    

    For more information,  please see the first post on March 13, 2009.

    E-mail your stories to:
    rebecca(at)rebeccaelia.com.   Remember to give your permission to post your stories. 


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