I believe that women should think less in terms of feminism as an identity and more in terms of “advocating feminism”; to move from emphasis on personal lifestyle issues toward creating political paradigms and radical models of social change that emphasize collective as well as individual change.
Talking Back: Thinking Feminist, Thinking Black – bell hooks.
I’ve begun to think about the labels I wear, particularly Christian & Womanist, less in terms of their names and more in terms of their behaviour, it’s not enough to limit these identities to myself or my personal growth. Neither is it enough to be a Womanist/Christian by name alone, and of course these labels can manifest themselves in a variety of accidental ways but the real change happens with intention.
However, there are so many, different, schools of thought within both identities, it’s easy to get lost or disillusioned.
It’s that time of year again, where the sky & I wake at the same time & I get to watch it roll into light.
I have a desire to understand things and know why/how things work. It has been both a blessing and a curse, especially in my spiritual journey, but in wanting to understand I (try to) pay attention to details. People assume that because I am so opinionated I have no desire to understand them, so when I say “no, go on, I want to understand what you are saying” during a discussion, they feel it’s a trap & I have to make them feel safe enough to explain themselves. Lack of communication is probably #1 on the list of things that cause problems, & lack of understanding is probably #2.
The other night I thought about how, although we are made from earth, we are so much more like the sea.
I’m very slowly falling back into the ease of writing poetry.
My job is something I wrestle with, only because it’s such a new extension of myself, one that I am yet to fully understand. Not just in terms of it being my first real job, but in terms of the relationship I have with it. I love it, I enjoy it, there are days when I want to stay in the office and work through the night but I also struggle to own it, to really take possession of it and call it mine.
“may the days you wish you were somebody else