Continuing from yesterday’s musings, I have long held that as human beings, especially as women, we are placed in one another’s lives to mirror for the other what we cannot see for ourselves.
I remember as a young mother, and forever after that, being able to clearly see when the child of another was pulling her leg, pushing her buttons, and behaving badly, and how the other mother was so oblivious to the dastardly manipulations of her own child. I determined to listen when others pointed out what I could not see in my children. It wasn’t easy, because we don’t want to see that, do we?
And, isn’t it amazing how easy it is for us to see EXACTLY what lesson ANOTHER is facing, and what they need to do to pass that class and move on? Yet we remain blind to our own foibles, lessons, and patterns. Again, we don’t want other people telling us what we don’t want to see. So it takes a rare kind of humility to listen when someone is willing to share with us what we cannot see for ourselves. (And, as a side note, unless someone is asking, it really isn’t a good idea, on so many levels, to offer unsolicited advice. However, we could not see in another what we don’t have going on for ourselves, so it’s good to be aware. Just sayin’…)
By Divine Grace, I am convinced, that door swings both ways. What we cannot see in ourselves, we see in our sisters. Alvita and I had this discussion the other day, and she asked me, “What do you see in me?”
“Oh, my dearest friend, I see you as so beautiful, an exquisite portrayal of the divine feminine, a tender touch of a mother, healer, wise woman, sage, seer, and yet delicate, innocent, and oh so loving. I see you as deserving of the best care anyone could ever have.” And while that is what she gives to all who cross her path, Alvita struggles,
as do I, with self-care and self-love and self-centeredness. She and I are both “other-centered”.
So, given our propensity as women to take care of everyone but ourselves, what if we gave each other permission to take care of us? What if we welcomed the mirror of one another, and preened a little in it? What if we team up to take care of ourselves by taking care of one another — like the long chopsticks of heaven?
Maybe loving one another, and embracing the love of others, as we wish we could love ourselves, could get us all home safely. Who wants to die dumb?