Do You Read Labels?

History doesn’t always tell us the whole story,Mather we are told what the survivors/victors wanted to tell. However we are able to pull together pieces and threads of various stories to see history as a more complete image.  In some instances that mean seeing the roles of women more clearly.

History likes to show women as maintaining the Homefront, carrying out domestic tasks and to be sure that would have been the story of many women, but not all.  Some women joined men as explorers, soldiers, Pirates and such.were they treated as equals?

History tells us that most women who stepped away from tradition roles, those who chose to ignore their gender, often times did so in the costume of being young men or boys. This would indicate that women weren’t seen as equals, but if they could pass as young men or boys, they were capable of fooling the men they worked with.

we can talk about how far we have come today, as women, when it comes to equality, but the truth is, we aren’t there yet.  Sure we are closer, but not equal.

Perhaps a better way to look towards equality is to move away from labels regarding gender.   The problem here is that we, as a society, like to label or box people a certain way. To remove the gender label is to turn things inside out.

some cultures argue that we shouldn’t look for equality because men and women aren’t exactly then same.  These differences get in the way of equality.  And instead, we should be honouring the differences, and this includes the way we speak.  This can be seen in some South American cultures, where men and women use different words to describe the same thing.

If, then, it is our nature to label things and notice the differences as well as the similarities, we may never be able to find equality.  Is the label that big of a thing or can we rip t off and ignore it?  I dont have the answers, but if you have suggestions or answers please share!

Balancing An Unbalaced Life

It’s always a little off-balancing when I come back to North America after an extended stay in Europe.  Which is kind of strange when you consider I grew up in North America. 😉

Perhaps it’s the old world charm of Europe, then again perhaps it’s because Beloved is more comfortable in his own country.  Then again it may be because it’s not my home area and so I enjoy the novelty of it all.

there is just something jarring about the upfront, in-your-face confidence of here.  Not that I’m complaining, just making an observation! 😊

Beloved assures me that North America is more brash, louder, full of swagger and excess  compared to his homeland.  He says it is a bit of an adjustment.  Perhaps in this last bit Beloved is correct. 😉

I love here as much as there for different reasons. And I love the fact that I bounce freely from place to place, enjoying the good in both.  I try to help where I can, hope I make a difference in some way to some people’s lives and learn what I can where I can.

So there is something to say about a slightly unbalanced life!😊

Maybe Not A Zen Place

The dog demanded that we spend the day outside.  It wasn’t that he held and up to our heads or anything, he just kept coming up to us to thunk his chin on our legs and then march over to the door.

evidently training us humans is much harder for him than it was for us to get him trained.  But eventually we relented, pulled out a few chairs, made some coffee and sat on the deck while he happily found a patch of grass in the sunlight to flop down on.  He was content.  So content he fell asleep.

things were going okay for us as well, until the bugs decided to have a drink (or is it a swim) in our coffees.  I cannot drink after knowing a bug has been in my drink.  Call it an ick factor.  😳

After that I simply couldn’t focus on my book anymore.  I was on high alert for ants crawling up my legs, bugs flying down my shirt and so on.  But the dog?  He seemed thrilled to be sleeping out doors.  Sleep on the ground?  Not me, no siree.  But him it is his glory apparently.

I dont know, maybe ants crawling on him feels good.  Maybe the outdoors, bugs and all, puts him in a zen mode.  Maybe outdoors just isn’t my zen place.

Wrong Prescription For Me

I ended up with the oddest prescription I’ve ever received during my latest visit to my specialist.  He pulled out his magical pad of paper, made some odd scratching a and told me to consider filling it sooner rather than later.

Naturally I had to read what he wrote.  Since my own hand writing seems to indicate I should have been a doctors, had no problem reading his markings.  He had written out a prescription for me to take a long, stress-free break.

To my thinking, this condition called life means  experiencing stress is a given to all of us.  What isn’t a given is how much we are exposed to or how we cope with it.  So a stress-free break seems impossible to me.  But reducing the stress is achievable.

I packed up my lovely new car and headed out to a nice, restful place.  I brought books, music and my cellphone, to take pictures etc.  oh I also brought clothes, all sorts of lovely food and  wonderful drinks.

The plan was to forget about the daily schedules and such.  Just simple enjoy the time and doing what I wanted, when I wanted.   Sounds like just the thing right?

except I’ve comes t discover that I seem to handle stress so much better than complete leisure time.  Perhaps it was the seclusion, perhaps it was then rake of minds  was in.  At any rate I cut the trip so I could head home and relax, ignoring the daily schedules that everyone around me seemed so intent on keeping!

What It Means

I’ve  never been much good at asking for help or admitting when I’m unable to do things.  I like being independent.  I like being strong.  I like being capable.

The thing is, having lupus means not being able to always be strong, independent and capable.  You just never know exactly when things will be taken away from you or for how long.

You’d think I would have learned to ask for help.  You would think, given the number of years lupus has been my sidekick that I would be better at coping with this.  I’m not.

I fight it each and every flare.  This has led to food on the floor, dropped jars, piles of laundry left where ever and friends stood up or even worse, having to cope with me dragging myself around.

So I have lupus, but like to pretend I don’t.  Which has led to so pretty odd adventures. Sch as rolling on the floor like an armadillo because it was all I could do.  It has meant being almost glow in the dark red from sun, or swollen feet that look like balloons.  It has meant appearing clumsy or perhaps a bit intoxicated to people who don’t understand.

It has meant being rude, thoughtless, cruel at times when the pain, illness and what have you is too much and there just isn’t one more drop of energy in my body.

It means shutting myself away, pushing people away and yes sometimes hiding because it’s just easier for all involved.

It also means that friends and loved ones show me grace and love as they pull me they.  It means learning that once again no one thinks less of me for needing help. It means understanding that people are willing to help me out if I ask for it.  It also means they are tired of stepping in when ive run myself right into the ground because I’m selfish and don’t listen to their pleas to slow down.  It means another chance to learn a lesson I guess.

 

It’s Natural

He climbed and clipped the morning away.  He pruned and plucked until the afternoon was finished.  He tidied and cleaned until even a casual glance would be able to see th fruits of his labor.

He probably spent the night soothing sores and aches.  A small price, some might say, to pay for that kind of work.

I can admire the neat lines, the beautiful shapes and whimsical flair he brought to his tress and bushes.  Sure they are lovely to look at, but I wonder why my neighbor feels such a need to have a perfectly shaped cedar tree or a completely round bush.

It’s not exactly natural to form shapes such as Dolphins or spheres out of trees and bushes.  Sure it’s whimsical, it’s different, it’s nice to look at.  But no matter what you say, you cannot convince me that it’s natural.

And the strangest thing of all is that he will be repeating this process over and over again if he wishes to maintain neat, trim lines and amazing shapes. I guess it’s a bit like shaping your eyebrows,  you have to stay on top of that or it quickly becomes an unkempt mess.

Now don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what he does, bu I also like the trees to be, well, natural in shape. And naturally that doesn’t require a great deal of human interaction because, it’s, well, natural.

Just A Bit Of Cloth

I never knew I was basically made out of cloth until recently.  I know, it was shocking to me too! 😮😉

But seriously folks, these days I feel like a wrung out cloth.  Nothing left to me.  Worn out, used up and tossed aside.

I’ve been burning the candle at both ends and the middle.  When you do that, you can only sustain this for so long before the fire goes out and darkness settles in.  Toss a bit of lupus into the mix and you end up a used, worn out, wrung out cloth.

Or in normal, less dramatic,  terms im utterly exhausted with not even fumes to  run on. There is nothing left.  The thought of doing anything even leaves me exhausted.  And yes I’m fully aware that ive only myself to blame for starting this.

I opened the door and basically invited lupus to come on in.  I may have, inadvertently mind you, told lupus to feel at home.  In my body.  Call it an oversight because I’ve been a bit too busy to be focused on a little something.  That little something would be my health.

maybe one day I will learn, but then again, can you teach a worn out piece of cloth anything.