Anjolie has a post well worth reading…it’s about dancing and the dance…where we feel comfortable leading and being led. In it she says,
…….I love a man that I can push into – not push around – but who still allows me room to be, me.
As I am maturing into womanhood and becoming more balanced and centered within myself I am less and less bothered in a “lost” way when my man isn’t able to be that for me…and I think this is important. I need to be able to stand in my own inner-masculine……
Oh dear, this really has me thinking about how grounded I am in my inner masculine and how out of touch I am with my inner feminine. How comfortable I am in it all. Ability and a desire to “do”, or “be” more of the “masculine” than the “feminine” when it comes to living life.
And I’m not sure really what this all means except that I am infinitely more comfortable picking up the screwdriver and changing the towel rack to a shelf if need be or patching the hole in the wall and not waiting for someone to do it for me. Digging the garden where I physically can, not waiting for a man because of some mistaken notion I shouldn’t have to get my hands dirty. I am more comfortable sitting around the table with a beer or cuppa joe learning about electricity, transistors, resistors, capacitors, engine compression, bore and stroke, or aerodynamics than spending time in the bathroom negotiating in the world of mascara and blush and lipstick. Or heels and long flowing dresses. I get wet hearing the compressor come on in the garage and driving a solid, well built car with plenty of power…..*giggles*
It’s funny, I love to cook and bake. To quilt/sew. And yes, to “decorate”. I can, if need be, clean up….heels and stockings and a garter belt. A short skirt with a slit up one side and no panties. Oh la la…. *smile*
My inner masculine is strong and confident. Willing and able. Bright and shinning. Up front and center. Ready….
But for the life of me…..I can’t seem to put it down. My inner masculine. I am more often hard, than soft. Cutting. Sharp. Bold. Bawdy. Brazen. Curious. Put the tools in my hand and teach me. My default.
But all these things….the things that we associate with the feminine….at least on an outward plane….dresses, heels, makeup, shopping, decorating, cooking, sewing….are not the measure of the feminine. Not really, even if we make that association.
Where is the goddess in me? The soft and the feminine? Is it that she’s had no opportunity to show herself? No match? No surrender to the masculine of another?
How do I let her through? Where does she hide? What does she hide from?
I am interested in your thoughts about this……