I am a woman.
I had periods and bled on sheets.
But my voice does not matter, my voice was not wanted. My message fit in with those who were told they were not welcome to march with the women of the world, so while the march spoke out for women “everywhere,” I sat at home.
I sit with many women who chose a different path than many of those who marched. That choice, evidently makes us all now, women who do not matter. We do not have a place at the table. Our input into important issues is not permitted. We are the women, who are sent to the outer tents when we bleed. We are not allowed to contaminate the others, except our exile is not for one week of the month . . . ours is permanent.
There can be no doubt that we are women. We had mothers and fathers who loved us, we played with dolls, we did all the girl things with the other girls. We went to university or got a job. We married and some divorced, we had kids and some of us grand babies and even great grand babies. We have careers or stayed home. We met situations that were difficult and yes, some of us were raped, some of us abused. Some of us were/are paid far less than we are worth. Some of us have been horribly discriminated against. Some of us are religious. We are rich and poor, overweight and underweight. We are varying degrees of attractive. Some of us conquer mountains, some of us conquer diapers. We are women no different than those who marched. But they told us we were not the right kind of women, and so we couldn’t join them. While they said they wanted “everyone’s” support – that did not include ours. Had we marched, had we said anything, our voice would have been “booed,” because these women are not about love and inclusion … this is just one big mean girl’s party. Continue reading
Is there anyone else but me that is fed up with this whole credit card fee scam that is going on right now with retailers and service providers?
I did not want a credit card. I held out as long as I could, insisting on paying cash until it became impossible to do the things I wanted/needed to do in my life without a credit card. Try booking a hotel room or a rental car without one.
So now after all the effort made to convince us that credit cards are much simpler and easier for us to use, they have reversed their position. We are being charged a fee for the extra effort they have to make to process our payment. Most of us don’t even bother with cash anymore. First, it was the ease and beauty of the credit card and then we had debit cards that directly accessed our bank accounts. A credit card can be slipped in a pocket, tucked in your bra, goes in a tiny handbag. We were free!! Once the internet happened, they created a system that made us even more dependent on our credit cards. Just enter your details and shop away. Book anything. Do it from the convenience of your home or during that wasted commuting time. We could even process transactions with other people buying our services, through our phones. Continue reading
Did it all happen so fast?
I don’t believe this.
It probably seemed fast to those who did not see it coming. It probably looked like it happened overnight. There is so much going on in the world right now that speaks to what will happen and yet people refuse to see. They don’t want to interrupt their TV show, or put down their credit card, or stop talking about their next cruise.
When you are comfortable, other people’s pain and discomfort is an inconvenience and we are seduced by our conveniences. We define our lives by them. Continue reading
Is it “suicide” when you take even one person with you? Or, do we call that “murder? Murder comes in degrees, the worst degree being the one where you plotted and planned it. Compassion for illness that may have caused the incident, is up against compassion for the 150 people who had no choice, some of them children. I think of all of their hopes and dreams, and their only crime being in the wrong place at the wrong time with a man who “wanted to show the world.” I have compassion for their families. There was a poster I shared from a friend on here the other day about wanting to remember the name of the pilot who tried to stop it, not the one who caused it. Maybe we need to ask ourselves about fame and what it has done to us . . . that 15 minutes of fame is a worthy ransom for thousands of lives around the globe.
So many questions.
I have been watching, listening and reading about the Germanwings airplane crash. Like so many of the situations currently facing us in today’s world, there are no quick and easy answers. We pull apart the reasons we can find, arguing with one another about their validity and in the end, we all go home dissatisfied with the outcome. Because, the outcome will never be the undoing of what happened.
And the truth is, we all have headaches from trying to understand and make sense of it all.
We want sympathy for the co-pilot who suffered with mental illness. We make the plane crash about mental illness and argue that too many people suffer silently, afraid to let anyone know, and when someone has to live their life in that kind of pain, they are going to snap. This one is easy, while pursuing awareness for mental health we neatly place the pilot in another group . . . the one labelled, “not me.” We can let go some of the responsibility when what happened is about “other people.” We can be less vigilant in our own lives.
There are people who blame the co-pilot completely, without any compassion for him or his mental illness. They refuse to be sidetracked. They need someone to blame and he is the most identifiable target.
Cue the people who then point to the last group and say they are part of the problem that marginalizes people with mental health issues. They suggest that THIS is the real problem we need to address. Continue reading