...quiet, about a lot of things...

Over at Neil's.....He has posted an entry about the women of yesterday vs today...and the same for men.

Now,I can't even really believe that I am the same species as the women of yesterday. I have both disdain and admiration for them.

But this is not what pricked my interest. It's the thingy that you buy from a condom manufacturer. The "modern" woman slips this vibrating thingy on her finger..to...um... rock her own world.

We've come a long way baby..(no pun intended..)

But have we really? Yes..I suppose a commercial about a woman mastering her own domain..is new.

But..still..there is something she NEEDS to put between her pleasure..and her self.
Another party.

You could almost see the bad girl caught by her mother, or her friend, as she pleads for forgiveness..

"It wasn't me....I was just CURIOUS....I was trying to be responsible, and get some condoms..for when I finally give my FLOWER to Neil....This thing came with it..a gift with purchase. I love the Gift with purchase!

Anyway..I followed the instructions....and before I knew it, it was too late.I tried to say no..but it was sooooo good....

I didn't know, I just didn't know...sob...I'm Not a slut..."

Now Girls. Perhaps this is progress....but what the marketing execs need to know is this. A true scene of women and self love looks like....

Just a beautiful woman, thinking her own private thoughts, perhaps with a glass of very good wine...and a sly, slick, wet smile on her own lips as she kicks the door closed and lays back on her very own pillows.

Fade to black.

Now that's the truth. The revolution. That always was. And Always will be.

In a bold move...I rejoined a poetry group...the flesh kind...where I have deadlines..and am supposed to contribute feedback and general brainpower.

Haven't written a poem in A VERY LONG TIME.

I said a Bold move, not a bright one....

oh Yeah..

Obama! YOU soooooo rule!

I'm a walk alone kinda girl. I have many people , who bless my life. They keep me company and certainly lend a hand.

But we walk this road alone.

So with that thought, today I will pack my daughters childhood into the trunk of my car, and drive her down the road to the jumping off point. To the fork.

When we have unpacked every last teddy bear, her extra loud alarm clock, and her multiple peace signs, I will leave her to settle in to her new life. The one she gets to craft with her own two hands.

She has good hands. She will craft well.

I'll hit the road, holding the steering wheel. Anchoring me to the present,pointing towards my path. Watching the intersection of My Way and Her Way shrink in the rear view mirror.

I'll blow her a kiss and leave her with a smile.

I hope. That's the plan anyway.

A summer storm has rolled in.

Tomorrow I have a horse show, that will now be very muddy..and very moist. Not what I had fore casted.

Next Thursday I leave for CA to drop Rach off at Cal. Even though this HAD been fore casted..as in Chance Of Daughter Leaving For College = 100%....I am somehow still bewildered.

I don't even own an umbrella. Yet here I am in a stormy season. Rach is always telling me we need to get umbrellas. She's one smart cookie.

Maybe that's why she's off to college, whilst I am standing here, dripping wet.

Once upon a time,I used to read a lot of self help books. I thought I would find the answer in one of them. I didn't.

Somehow, even then, I sensed it was bigger than me, this question I kept asking.

I now read a lot of philosophy books, and comparative religion.Oh! How the younger version of myself would LOVE that. See way back when..I mean WAAAAAY BAAAACK..I wanted to be a nun.

I remember going to the commitment ceremony of a young novitiate, seeing her dressed in white, laying prostrate on the marble floor, my elderly aunt whispering that she was now a Bride of Christ.

It gave me chills.

But, I soon grew up enough to realize that living my life away from worldly goods, even if it was for Jesus, wasn't what I really had a knack for.

(I was one of the first to dye my hair in high school..my all girl Catholic high school..I liked my uniforms a little too short, and my drinks way too strong for a girl my age.)

So I took up another calling. Another quest, I guess..and I Began running down rabbit holes many, many, many times over the next decade. Chasing something that seemed right there...but it never was.

I remember praying very hard when I got pregnant with Rachel. I prayed that I could be strong, brave..and willing. Willing to follow, and leap down that hole one last time.

I was very far from a nun at that point. Just the same, many a night, I would lie prostrate on the floor and ask God to come and take me, as I was.

Nealy two decades later, I sometimes feel like I am waking from a hazy dream. A dream where I WAS a mother...where for one brief second life flowed through me, and hands held onto me for comfort. A dream where I was a builder, a sleepy one, but a builder regardless.

It's just that now, I find myself looking at my efforts. I see that they are well forged, that they are true.

But, the building is almost through. Everyone knows it. There comes a time when the project is done. The moment when you just need to live with it, in it. That moment is Now. So, that's right where I am. Listening, once again, to a calling deep inside. To that question.

Except this time, it has an Eastern feel to it. This time it doesn't court me, or ask me to be it's bride. No, this time it dares me to let go of everything I have gathered, all my sticks and stones. It dares me to put down my hammer. It asks me to carefully thank them for bringing me such abundance and joy.

Thank them..and then let them go.

Part of Me is trilled by this notion,as my hands are aching from holding on. My heart is knotted from holding back. That Part of Me would not even turn back.

Still,the other part of me wants to sneak bits of this life, out in my pockets. Hide little parts of it in my lining..and prays I won't get caught.

For if I do get caught, if told to truly empty myself, empty all my nooks and crannies, I don't think I ever could fully release everything.

And even if I could...I know I would be quiety crying,while lovingly clutching the best little trinkets. I know I would plead..."Do I HAVE to?"


Sunday Scribbling prompt.