Oh! When the Moon is full: Celebrating International Women’s Day

When the sun, the moon and the earth line up,

And the moon’s face attracts the riveted glare of the sun: Full moon appears.

Woman is like full moon; she shows her brightest self and lights up our world when she is in alignment with her deepest self and her life’s purpose.

War, as in Ukraine makes everyone vulnerable: men, women, children, animals, buildings, even the sacred ground trampled by the tanks.  And when peace does come, there is no change for women and girls; they remain vulnerable in any season.

They suffer from a huge bias as odds are stacked against them. They suffer from domestic violence; pressed down by the glass ceiling at work; and during the pandemic work-from-home they became worker, teacher and home marker all in one, not to mention care giver for both children and elderly parents; with a little hand coming occasionally from their partners. 

It is like a dark cloud swallowed the moon. She no longer illuminates the night sky and we grow accustom to journey in the dark like half darkness-half light come normal; glass ceiling, normal; only women care for parents, normal; only women see  ‘bout children’s education, normal; only women money mind their house, normal. A huge bias dampens her glow: a moon marred by the shadows of her varicose veins.

But do you know what woman and girls are feeling inside?

Don’t put God out of your thoughts and assume that you do 

You most likely don’t; and may never know. But, check to make sure you are not that cloud that shrouds her light, swallows her glow and renders her helpless.

But if you can hazard a guess of what they are feeling, then, break the bias, now.

‘Imagine a gender equal world. A world free of bias, stereotypes and discrimination. A world that’s diverse, equitable and inclusive. A world where difference is valued and celebrated.  Together we can forge women’s equality. Collectively we can all break the bias.’  And Why?

They are the lining up of the forces of nature

They are the anointed crust of the bread out of the oven of her heart 

The energy at sunrise and the green flash you always miss at sunset

She is light, reflected like the rainbow in your dreams 

The anchoring of the strewn self gathered into the harbour of home 

That hearth through which all real light passes 

The convergence of Mama God welcoming back all sisters.

From her office chair in the Twin Towers she saw the smoke rising from the Claxton Bay kitchen window and the huge gulf separating.  Stuck in the cloud of unknowing, her talents stunted by the glass ceiling, her creativity hampered. She knows, ‘If you dance and be free and not be hampered you can rule the world’. However, social barricades choke her. Bravely she inhales the aroma of mama’s cooking:

‘Come leh mama unloose those tangles in your hair, girl

Ah dunno why you let people mess with your head

These braids are meant to radiate order and neatness

Now they point any which way like a confused soul.’

Even though the pain is in your body and not ours, we are not separated from it. Just as we are not only not separated from the beautiful things in the world so to the ugly things. We are not separated from those who suffer bias nor are we separated from the perpetrators of this bias. We may not identify with them, but we are not separate from them. We are one with everything. Without them we cannot be here. When I look deeply into myself, there is Woman.

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