Are we liberated yet?

As women, we never needed to prove that we can be as equal in performing as men if not better, we needed and still need to disparage such beliefs that what men do, which many women now do also, is superior to a woman's position regardless of what privileges or not we are born into or attain. Equality isn't about having or doing the same, it's about the opportunities presented being of equal value whether traditionally regarded as women or men's roles or attributes. It appears we may have fought to play a part in a non egalitarian world rather than change the game. It seems to me that we have not so much gained liberation but an even greater job to do leaving us with too little time and energy to devote to our children what they require to grow into mature liberated adults. They are instead being influenced more by their immediate and age proportionately immature peer groups as we send them off to other institutions to secure their wellbeing and future.

Why has the most important job both men and women can do been relegated to the ethics of an oppressive workforce? Nurturing, caregiving parenthood traditionally viewed as a women's role whilst men provide the bread that now both parents generally need to work for. What as women in the 21st century have we gained with our fight for independence in reality at what cost to us all? Could perhaps such answers lie in the question of who were the women who instigated the woman's liberation movement and continue to claim its advocators and from what privileges they formed and form their views?

Confidence is found in understanding.

I used to think the more time I spent practising to be confident around people I didn't ordinarily would enable faith in myself to grow. A drive to face the fears that derived from the company of those whom I felt intimidated, insecure and unprotected as if such a push was what I need to motivate. Also enabling me to maintain a safe distance as they would me in emotional disconnection and avoidance. I found comfort there but not community. Only in the cracks of light shining out from behind closed doors did I find common ground. A semblance of home.

I now realise the more time I spend in situations and with people where I can be myself without judgement but instead acceptance and loving challenge, the more confident I feel around those who I don't ordinarily, nor do I wish any longer to be in such close contact with those who seek to undermine anything that makes them feel less confident in themselves. Such self esteem being too fragile to withstand the emotions arising from another's ability or attribute, be they borne of jealousy, resentment, saving of face but ultimately, fear, the emotion too often denied in rejection. As indeed was once mine to bear also. At the moment, I spend most of my time alone. Turns out I'm quite accepting of myself and don't hold back from letting myself know when I'm less than the same toward another. Confidence is not won on a battleground but instead found in understanding.

Behind the anger lies pain.

Looking back all seems quite bizarre, from where I am now and wherever you are. There's no clarity, no means to fathom what happened. You said we'd be friends that you wouldn't react but from where I stand that's no matter of fact. If you wanted the same then why play this game?

What stops you from telling me how angry you are that I put an end to the mucky affair? It makes no sense that you want from me recompense. If angry you say you are not with frosty hostility, then why not simply talk with me? Perhaps in admittance, something else is transmitted.

What education is the right education?

To hold oneself in high esteem because one has a degree of knowledge is to assume those who have chosen an alternative education is not of such high standing but who gets to say what is taught in institutionalised schooling is correct and all else is wrong or at best questionable? In challenging the narrative of what it means to be educated we open minds to the possibility that instead of gaining an education we are instead learning to become the oppressors when we put ourselves and others on pedal stools for holding privileged awards of merit.

One may have socially recognised qualifications but that doesn't necessarily mean one is intelligent or wise enough to know this doesn't place them above or make better than those who don't. But it may grant one privilege denied to those who don't. When challenged over such ideology they will rationalise the argument that the challenger is either envious or not educated enough to know what they say. In some circumstances, they may be right but isn't that the failing of the system rather than the individual? The success of the institutionalised educational system is in the oppressed becoming the oppressors, to serve the oppressors rather than liberate the oppressed. Liberation doesn't serve the oppressors,

it serves all of life for liberation is life itself, if not then we are not liberated.

Down the rabbit hole.

Down the rabbit hole she went and in there found herself. A frightened child who drank the drink she was prescribed and shrunk to fit the door into a surreal and confusing land. She ate the cake that made her grow, not tall but fat so she could fit no more aside from to her mother’s side. A mother who couldn’t stand for her daughter to be anything other than an image of her. Someone to shoulder the load too heavy for either to carry let alone child for parent where parent should be. She could not be herself for herself you see was a trip through the looking glass the mother didn’t want to see.

Now grown to fit the parent role, she took herself by the hand and with the help of strangers stranger than most who’s quest she also helped herself in helping them, she found her way back but back was not the way she wanted to go. That wonderland of curious and curiouser wonder had changed the way she saw the land, she could walk no more the path she took but create anew a garden filled with all the colour and madhats she could find. It’s time for the tea party to begin, leave behind those ordinary rules for ordinary folk and stretch those too long cocooned wings.

In cracked china we shall sup, in home we shall welcome all who steal queen’s tarts and giggle at their….what? Did you think I was about to say farts? Well, okay, that too. You’ll know I’ll love you no matter what.

We need a new world order before they make one for us.

Clocking in for my night time shift of worry and doubt. The darkest hour looms ever greater when thoughts steal and burn. The state of the world, the division, segregation, with no support system where will I turn? I know now what keeps me awake at night, the dreams that lead me to the worst of my anxiety at a time when I need more certainty. Threatened with illness, loss of home and income, I dread having no security. I often turn to fantasy the closer I come to possible reality, it's the only way I escape when gripped with fear. Working hard toward better health, understanding, independence, what it's worth when all can be lost in a year? Don't tell me to stay positive, calm and not to worry, you've never walked in my shoes. I don't need medication to help me sleep, tips on how to live a better way, I need to live in a society that cares about these issues. Daylight will come and I'll still be here, the world will feel much different but I'll have the same view. I'll have the same worry I can easily bury amongst the chores, my books and with hope alone in decorated hues. There are ways to save this desperate globe, those of us who live life closer to the bone know. Mine isn't the worst, I'm resourceful, I just don't want to do again what I've already faced, overcome another harrowed tomorrow. I look forward to the fall of this state, high rises in unemployment to enable corporate reduction of wage. The landlord's increases in rent, inflation high if only to witness more people arriving with rage. What a terrible thing to hope, the demise of a nation, selfish it may seem and centred around me. But if this is what it takes to improve what we have, to care at last even if for the self to heal the cuts then I am this she. Nothing will change unless we come together in unity to overthrow the corrupt. In revolution, there's blood, war and loss but without there's worse. We need a new world order before they make one for us. I ask in this sleepless hour, will you join the fight? Will you give more of yourself than words of comfort and charity? It's tough I know to face what's happening when in your life all's well when hidden from harsh clarity. It's a balancing act you see, one can not have more without another losing it all. It doesn't have to be this way. Parent's once taught us to share, what happened to that? How did that get lost in an adult's normal day?

Help me sleep, help another off the street, help children grow in safety, well fed with a future to look forward to. Help another look up to see what we have done, what we can do to improve what we help torpedo. In this long goodnight, I bid adieu for to dream I must pursue of something sweeter, lesser in burden. Because the closer I come out of denial the nearer I am to you, you to me are my life as my life is to you seems downtrodden. No upbeat note to end this nightmarish spiel, to raise spirits from the dank. We are not imbeciles to pity, to appease. We are capable of more. Again, will you reconsider your stance and come join the revolutionary ranks?

Sharing is caring.

Clocking in for my night time shift of worry and doubt. The darkest hour looms ever greater when thoughts steal and burn. The state of the world, the division, segregation, with no support system where will I turn? I know now what keeps me awake at night, the dreams that lead me to the worst of my anxiety at a time when I need more certainty. Threatened with illness, loss of home and income, I dread having no security. I often turn to fantasy the closer I come to possible reality, it's the only way I escape when gripped with fear. Working hard toward better health, understanding, independence, what it's worth when all can be lost in a year? Don't tell me to stay positive, calm and not to worry, you've never walked in my shoes. I don't need medication to help me sleep, tips on how to live a better way, I need to live in a society that cares about these issues. Daylight will come and I'll still be here, the world will feel much different but I'll have the same view. I'll have the same worry I can easily bury amongst the chores, my books and with hope alone in decorated hues. There are ways to save this desperate globe, those of us who live life closer to the bone know. Mine isn't the worst, I'm resourceful, I just don't want to do again what I've already faced, overcome another harrowed tomorrow. I look forward to the fall of this state, high rises in unemployment to enable corporate reduction of wage. The landlord's increases in rent, inflation high if only to witness more people arriving with rage. What a terrible thing to hope, the demise of a nation, selfish it may seem and centred around me. But if this is what it takes to improve what we have, to care at last even if for the self to heal the cuts then I am this she. Nothing will change unless we come together in unity to overthrow the corrupt. In revolution, there's blood, war and loss but without there's worse. We need a new world order before they make one for us.

I ask in this sleepless hour, will you join the fight? Will you give more of yourself than words of comfort and charity? It's tough I know to face what's happening when in your life all's well when hidden from harsh clarity. It's a balancing act you see, one can not have more without another losing it all. It doesn't have to be this way. Parent's once taught us to share, what happened to that? How did that get lost in an adult's normal day? Help me sleep, help another off the street, help children grow in safety, well fed with a future to look forward to. Help another look up to see what we have done, what we can do to improve what we help torpedo. In this long goodnight, I bid adieu for to dream I must pursue of something sweeter, lesser in burden. Because the closer I come out of denial the nearer I am to you, you to me are my life as my life is to you seems downtrodden. No upbeat note to end this nightmarish spiel, to raise spirits from the dank. We are not imbeciles to pity, to appease. We are capable of more. Again, will you reconsider your stance and come join the revolutionary ranks?