I’m currently an ice sculpture at the Flying M in Boise. I suppose air conditioning vents are a nice antidote to 97 degree days, but it’s not the solution I was hoping to add to my iced coffee, ice water, and little black dress. I’m tempted to walk out to my car and grab my grass tapestry and wrap it around my shoulders. Either that or move tables or just suck it up and get used to it.
Today has provided a fascinating new perspective on the world as a whole. I’m not sure how much sleep I got last night because every hour or so Devin would wake me up with a piece of “inspiration.” I did not have time to exercise or meditate this morning, and I went to Simply Cats on one sugary little Java Chiller from Sonic. A kitten named Freya fell in love with me and I continued to fall in love with a big tabby named Butch. Brenda and I talked about The Embodiment Project, which we intend to attend with a bunch of beautiful women this weekend. I haven’t spent much time in the company of women lately– my world has inadvertently become a world filled with men.
Do not confuse this with “a world filled with masculinity,” because that it is not. Most of the men in my life are self-aware and have started to look at themselves as gendered subjects. I choose to surround myself with these people because they are any combination of fun, smart, fascinating, artistic, and spiritual. However, I understand that importance and theory behind spending time with some succulent wild women (as SARK would call my friends) so we can continue to raise awareness and cause trouble. To me, that is what this weekend is about. I love women, and I honestly believe that if we opened ourselves up to empathy for one another, some of our whispered arguments would roar.
Still, something has been bothering me lately. I don’t think I realized it bothered me until I sat down to blog today. The thing is, it has become very easy for my female friends to say that they just don’t like men. Men make them feel uncomfortable. I have agreed with this statement, probably rather recently. But this isn’t true for me: I really do like men. They generally don’t make me feel uncomfortable– it would be a shame if they did, as most of my friends identify as men. What makes me feel uncomfortable is what patriarchy does to men. What I don’t like are hegemonic masculinities. They make me feel uncomfortable.
I think this is a healthier way to view men from a queer feminist perspective (or even a lesbian feminist perspective), cuz hell, I don’t like what patriarchy does to a lot of women, either. I understand that many, many women have reasons to feel uncomfortable around men, and I’m not saying that they should push themselves out of their comfort zones. I’m well-versed in the literature of lesbian separatism and I could probably argue for it just as well as against it. Positive arguments aside, I think empathy, inclusion, and awareness will get us a lot farther as individuals than writing anyone off because of their gender and/or sexual identity. One will certainly miss out on a lot if they meet a person with preemptive negativity. Trust me, I used to do it all the time.
I’m frustrated with myself because usually when I get into situations when this topic is brought up, I get passive. I’m working to stop compensating for dating a man. I’ve come to realize that I can’t blame my friends for this; the person I’m trying to prove something to is myself. It’s difficult to appear to queer (like a verb) sex and gender these long-haired, man-dating days, and in true egoistic (in the new age buzzword sense) form, I’m worried more about how I appear to queerfolks, sex radicals, and feminists than how everything feels inside. When I meditate on this, I realize that I have the choice to embrace the yin-yang gender/sex balance I’ve come to enjoy, but I act out of the fear that this balance is at odds with some poorly interpreted feminism that still swims next to the positive, spiritually-infused feminism in my head. Frequently, I hear some voice tell me to not be so harsh, everyone is on their own journey…and this includes my feminist friends who are currently not comfortable around men. Again, it’s only fruitful to try and change myself, and right now, my journey calls for ever-increasing empathy for ALL others and patience with myself as I learn the inns and outs of my own gender performance (even the passive parts that want to LOOK “radical.”)
So, I’m dropping it. Arguing positives and negatives for the sport of it does not cultivate love, and that’s ultimately what I want to do. I want to love all of my friends, male and female, and let them be wherever they are in life. This does not mean “ignore them while they’re drowning,” but my intuition serves as a sharp nose for emergency. I can trust myself.
Anyway, off-topic, there’s so much positivity that has narrowly missed my blog for fear of deviation from focus:
The Boise River runs through Caldwell, and Caldwell has its own greenbelt that no one seems to know about. I walk/jog it occasionally and only run into a few fishermen each time. It’s a beautiful but unkempt path, but as I follow it I forget I’m in Caldwell and remember what I love about Idaho.
I’ve finally settled on a place to live in New York– in the Woodlawn section of the Bronx with three other Sarah Lawrence writing students. At four miles from campus, it’s the perfect location because it’s bikeable on those ambitious fall mornings as well as near both the subway and the Metro-North towards Bronxville. It will take me about 7-10 minutes to commute, and it’s only $50/month for a train pass! I need to start selling Persephone here in Idaho.
Devin gets out of his meeting in an hour and then it’s time for Project Runway night at Molly’s. Perhaps I’ll use this hour to edit the poetry I meant to revise this afternoon. Yes.
