Respect of the Sacred Feminine

Years before, I began on this journey, going places. Meeting folks, learning. Many Elders and medicine people. Real people, of the First Nations, who learned what they know not from books, movies or others with no cultural knowledge. Individuals who learned from their grandparents, who learned from theirs, long before the European invasion. Many ceremonies, some as a participant, some as a supporter. Closing the door on my responsibility as Guardian is allowing me to retrace some of those steps, visiting again some of the people and places, and the impressions I left behind. One impression seems universal, and and in my mind, incomprehensible. Prevalent practically everywhere I have been and I am clueless as to how it became “truth”. Because nothing could be further from it.

“Hawks in town, lock up your daughters!”. Excuse me, what? How did I manage to paint myself with the brush of a womanizer? Visiting friends now, the reference was made humorously. I got the joke immediately, and certainly took no offense. Pondering on the insinuation drew more questions than answers. Where is this coming from? What did I do that would have left the impression? Talking with my friends, one possibility was revealed.

Where ever I go, who ever I am visiting, I tend to disappear for extended periods of time. The assumption was made I was out chasing, and capturing, the local women. No, I was getting away. I have spent the majority of my life alone. I actually prefer it. I need it. Too much time around groups of people, large or small, begins to grate on my nerves. I need silence, no interference between me and the other side. Honestly I'm not a big fan of people in general. I can only watch for so long as the predators feed off the relatives. The relatives letting it happen. All I can think is what a dumb ass. Cant they see what is happening? I noticed some do, and let it happen anyway. So desperate to believe in something they fall for anything. But it isn’t my place to interfere. Not my place to put my nose where it doesn’t belong. If they are foolish enough, or desperate enough, to allow it to happen, it isn’t up to me to call attention to it. Besides, if I did, they would defend the predator and attack me. Add to this stew of prey and imbecilic, I can only tolerate twinkies, bliss bunnies, the urban confused and members of the love and light brigade for so long. Someone is either trying to hug me, convert me, share their celestial wisdom on my unenlightened person or teach me how to be what I am. I have to get away. Somewhere, anywhere, where their voices like nails on a chalkboard I no longer hear. Or snap and tell them exactly what I think. Somehow that behavior has been interpreted as me hunting two legged deer.

Then of course there are the fire breathing femi-nazis. We certainly cannot forget them. Women who believe the matriarchal system is a sword, wielded against any penis possessing entity. The confused interpretation men are subservient to them, must bow before them. They are God itself manifested in the purest of absolute power and woe unto those who do not postulate before them, immediately begging forgiveness for their very existence. How utterly absurd. I bow before no man, or woman for that matter. I do not tolerate lightly bullies, of either gender. Simply put, I am no ones bitch. The idea, in my mind at least, has always been mutual respect. A balance between the male and the female.

A woman’s strength is subtle, passive. A mans strength is obvious, aggressive. Only a union of the two provides beneficial results. The response to strength in a purely offensive capacity is typically defiance, dissent. The response to strength in a purely defensive capacity is aggression, dominance. Neither work. Only together, balanced. Protection provided, yet the willingness to stomp a hole in the first s.o.b. who threatens. Women were consulted on all matters with this understanding. No war, no battle, was fought without that consultation. Not to seek permission, but opinion. After all, it is their sons, their brothers and husbands who may die. Men will seek to always dominant each other. Its genetic and we know no other way. Application of the feminine, the gentle, the compassionate, applies reigns to our otherwise destructive tendencies. Conversely, feminizing everything turns boys into women with a dick. Useless, mamby pamby wus boys who cower at the first steely glance.

I've said it before, and it bears repeating. Men are about useless. We have two functions, to provide and to propagate. Gives us enough time, we will screw that up too. If not for the guidance and strength of women, we would happily kill and destroy everything we come into contact with. If we cant eat it or have sex with it, we would just as soon kill it. Want proof, look no further than the world today. Men in charge, eradicating everything. Somehow, a few thousand years ago, women were convinced they are inferior to men. Women are subservient to men. Bullshit. Flip that around and it makes a lot more sense. From what I understand, every living this on this planet begins life as female. Everything. It is only through a genetic defect men exist. Our insides fell outside. Leave it to men to rule the world and kiss the world goodbye. Women can, and do, maintain all that is. Nature has shown, repetitively, the female can reproduce without the male. Parthenogenesis exists in smaller mammals. How long would it take the human species, the female, to evolve into this capability?

This in no way entitles women to create an amazonian society. What is so wrong with being a woman? Too often I see woman, whose best attempt at success is being masculine. Why in all that is sacred would a woman want to be a man? I understand why I man would want to be a woman. Compassionate, nurturing, loving, quiet strength. Strength far superior to anything a man could accomplish. Beauty, all that is beauty, coalescing in one being. However, these two understandings must work in conjunction with each other. Neither in front, neither behind. Two who become one, bringing the power of all creation into existence. Is there anything more beautiful than the absolute pure love between a man and a woman? I submit, not.

With all this said, I can only hope it sheds some light on my deep, awe struck admiration and respect of women. I cant say I wasn’t a skirt chaser, I would be lying. Those days are gone, left in the past with many other bad habits. I gave up the one night stands, the meaningless physical relationships. I understand, in order to be seen as honorable, one must behave honorably. To earn respect, one must be respectful. I get along very well with the Grandmothers of many Nations. Anyone with any experience in First Nations culture knows the Grandmas are always watching. If for one second I were to behave in any way suggestive of looking for the first snag, rest assured those Grandmothers would kick my ass. Hopefully, this dispels the rumors I have a problem with women, I don’t. I should, considering everything I have experienced at the hands of women. Admittedly, women can often be the most vindictive evil creatures on the planet. Yet, at the same time, there is no comparison to the beauty, in every aspect, they regularly achieve and project. Hopefully the rumors subside I have no respect for women. Quite the contrary, I have nothing but. I am clueless how you do it. I know I do not, could never be, a woman. I believe, if a man could could become the shadow of what a woman is he will have achieved greatness. The best I can do is be a man. Guess that’s going to have to be enough.