Sunday Collection – strong women

No, no, no, that’s not what I mean by strong women! But come to think of it, doesn’t she look joyful and strong and brimming with life?

I’m currently reading The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd (which Lucy recommended to me). The book’s subtitle will tell you what it’s about: A Woman’s Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine.

For a long time, I’ve been struggling with the position of the institutional church towards women, both historically and now. This book raises some crucial questions for those of us on a quest to find a representation, and understanding, of the divine that speaks to us as women.

Clearly it isn’t as simple as “all men are pigs and all women are sisters”. I find the attitude of many women as reprehensible as that of many men. And conversely, many men are inspiring in matters of religious belief and the way they live their lives. Ms Monk Kidd quotes writer Naomi Wolf (from Fire with Fire):

The world of men is dividing into egalitarians and patriarchalists – those men who are trying to learn the language and customs of the newly emerging world, and those who are determined to keep that new order from taking root. The former group welcomes these changes, seeing that though they are painful in the short term, over the long term they provide the only route to intimacy and peace. But the latter group sees only loss… The patriachalists’ world view, shared by women as well as men, is battling the emerging egalitarian world view, which is also shared by people of both sexes.

The patriarchal world view is intimately bound up in the sort of business practices that brought about the Enron scandal, and the views of those who believe global warming is a myth.

For those of us who know that things have to change, the position of women in spiritual life is connected with the vital part we play in political activism.

In my recent blog reading I’ve been struck by how many strong women bloggers are out there. No way I can possibly mention them all here, and there are so many different ways of being strong. And of course most women (and honest men) know that being strong doesn’t mean we are not afraid.

Jen Lemen has one of her gorgeous artworks up this week in a post called Making your heart ready for a miracle. The wording starts off “She had no idea what would happen next…”. And we don’t, but we will all try to be ready for it.

Cate at Beyond the Fields We Know describes meeting a friend at a local organic market. I love her imagery of these two vital older women in comparison with the younger female shoppers not yet come into their confidence:

For the most part, they gave us a wide berth as they shopped, and perplexed looks too – two older women, dressed easy and carrying tote bags full of rapini, kale and fingerling potatoes, a pair of females tattered in their mode of dress, but with fierce, independent and (hopefully) compelling written all over them.

Tamarika at Mining Nuggets is another strong woman and she recently shared a great quote from one of my favourite actresses, the intelligent, quirky, thoughtful Diane Keaton:

I want to express my age and be authentic. Why do so many people follow somebody else’s idea of what is attractive?

At Zena Musings, there’s a beautiful post that encapsulates the friendship between women:

I am beyond lucky to have this woman in my life. To get to benefit from her energy, her love, her wisdom, her spirit.

Marian Van Eyk McCain is a strong and spiritually gifted writer who encourages women to look at ageing in a creative way. I love this post of hers, about the physicality of gathering wood and of gardening. She observes the changes in her body, the way that her skin is now paper thin, the way her back aches. But she says:

Yet paradoxically, as my energy ever-so-slowly declines and my body gradually becomes more subject to aches and bruises, my delight in the physicality of living close to the earth seems to increase. I can’t do the hugely physical things I did years ago, like building a house and backpacking around the world. But the small, physical tasks I do outdoors, like pegging out a line of laundry in the garden, spreading compost, planting seeds, collecting kindling for the fire, bring a measure of delight to my days that I would sorely miss.

At Hecate, I found a weird and wonderful poem called The Witch by Theodora Goss. It resonates with me in a really deep way. It’s to do with both imprisonment and freedom. Here’s the last verse:

I want you to imagine: her ragged dress,
her hair like cobwebs, her luminescent eyes,
mad as all witches are, stirring the pond
like a cauldron (witches need no cauldrons, whatever
the stories tell you) while above her the clouds
are roiling and a storm is about to gather.

All over the world, storms are gathering. There is so much wrong it’s hard to know where to start, and we will need all our strength. To get different results we need to act in new ways, in compassionate, egalitarian ways.

I was moved to tears by Towanda’s poem Thanksgiving. You can read the whole thing here. These are my favourite lines:

Join your arm in mine,
friend, sister,
we will turn our fury
into loving action
we will turn our silenced selves
into hurricane voices
we will turn our mourning
into dancing
we will turn our wounded bodies
into compassionate roadblocks against
hate and violence, against our own
complicity and privilege.

Amen.