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Hello Moms and Women Everywhere,
It’s your day!
On Mother’s Day, many of us feel an element of feminine energy when, for every nanosecond our brains cannot comprehend, it creates our bodies, and has created us in the bodies of our mothers. Sit and think for a moment about carrying and birthing children. It’s an astounding, boggling, wondrous cosmic event we can instantly behold, and that alone stops me stupefied!
I’ve relished for days how this ezine would turn out, and how it might be different from memories and inspirations we’d also have for our moms. After hours of staying awake to one idea after another, I always heard burdensome questions: Where are we? What are we doing? What are mothers really saying about grief for their children in combat? Are testosterone laden media interviewing those women for the insights and grief they would reveal?
A Twilight Zone
The only relief in writing this ezine was felt once I backed out of my twilight zone to return to works of Joseph Chilton Pearce, who studies connections of the physical heart and brain. In a live lecture at Omega Institute, Rhinebeck, New York, May 2005, he said…The emotional state of the mother determines form, function, shape, and structure of the infant’s brain in utero, as well as through the ‘in the arms’ period before the child walks.
During pregnancy, if the female feels secure, wanted, loved, cared for, the fetus develops a large forebrain and a sharply decreased hindbrain. If the female feels insecure, unwanted, unloved, uncared for, the fetus develops a large hindbrain and a sharply decreased forebrain.
An enlightened, educated, schooled, or otherwise reasonable culture, which listens to their scientists, will rally to assure every pregnant female is protected, not ignored, not neglected, and given as much care, love, and consideration as that culture can possibly provide.
~ Joseph Chilton Pearce, explorer of the physical heart and brain connection
I’m not one to let fade Pearce’s ideas, because the moment authentic scientific suggestions are assumed irrelevant, we can presume our species is lost. Acts of subjugating women and children by cruelty long ago set in place a mantra of insanity. Are we U.S. residents existing in a twilight zone, neither asleep nor awake to collaborative neglect and oppressions? There’s a story of oppression too often dismissed, and that story begets possibilities of a new story for our species.
A New Story
Life for all species on and in Mother Earth is interconnected. The millions of animal and insect species, that had been partners creating in tandem with nature, providing unimaginable nuances in life before the human family showed up, are quietly disappearing. Obviously, egregious corporations and bankers’ profiteers have and are obliterating too many species’ DNA and habitats. That oppression puts our species on notice to our own extinction. ¹
Without feminine attention and behavior of mothering and nurturing ourselves, along with animals, plants, insects we can and cannot see, we may in our hubris disappear ourselves.
The new story, then, is birthed out of Earthlings’ dependence on stories, because stories show us where we’ve been, where we are, and where we’re going. The new story for humans is the next story being created—by us, right now—in tandem with extinguishing species from Mother Earth’s nature.
Let Me Out!
Over millenniums of harsh male dominations on Mother Earth, we peculiar and ever inquisitive species endured times in which females showed up very creative; bravo for them, our species is still here! Zoom in on the daze of 2007 to ask, how many times would female and male Earthlings admit to silently screaming ‘let me outta here!’?
Enter Greek literature and its drama. According to reports, Greeks invented a theatrical device, a boom or crane that transported a character off stage to full presence on stage. The character’s purpose? To suddenly appear from ‘on high,’ to intervene in some baffling or seemingly unsolvable difficulty. Once the character’s message was delivered as a kind of salvation in portending matters, the character might have disappeared the same way it arrived: it raptured or ‘rose up’ by way of the crane. How manly! To arrive, issue a message, and up, up and away he goes out into the ethers, shouting heavenward, ‘let me outta here!’ ²
Rapture is a literary and theatrical device par excellence! As a youth in training of all things religious, I wondered how rapture could occur; now I wonder how religious patriarchs in Western monotheism will manifest the prophetic ruse. It boggles one’s mind to imagine the psychical contrivances women and men have endured through dismal monotheistic governing in the recent five hundred years.
In spite of injurious retaliations perpetrated by men, today women of numerous ethnicities are able to train each other for governing. In ways unbeknownst to us men, and perhaps many women, females are caring for each other; shouting together ‘let me out!’ of the vicious ripples in mindless systems of war training; and shouting to end embedded cycles of physical and mental subjugations of women and children on Planet Earth.
Behind closed doors to save face, religion trained combative patriarchs are probably witnessing first hand some ‘spit in the eye’ while silently screaming ‘let me out!’ From a long history of shrewd warlord collusions between nation states, into a female-male balance of authority, warns the debilitating buddy systems of the hierarchical cycle that can eventually fold in on itself.
If the sciences of nature’s natural cycles alert males to just one thing, it is…
History is a vast early warning system.
~ Norman Cousins (b 1915), political journalist, author, professor
Mother’s Day Proclamation
The Mother’s Day Proclamation written by social activist and poet, Julia Ward Howe, was one of the early calls to celebrate Mother’s Day. In 1870, after the devastation of the American Civil War and Franco-Prussian War, she wrote the original Mother’s Day Proclamation calling women of the world to unite for peace. ³
Arise, then, women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts,
Whether our baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
“We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies, Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.”
From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own. It says: “Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.” Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, Let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means Whereby the great human family can live in peace, Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, But of God.
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask That a general congress of women without limit of nationality May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient And at the earliest period consistent with its objects, To promote the alliance of the different nationalities, The amicable settlement of international questions, The great and general interests of peace.
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