Girl Balls

Cojones.

Why use we such a ubuiquitous male genital expression for strength and courage?

And no female ones?

Consider the female gonad. When you rip open a new wound on yourself every month for decades on end, ready and waiting each time to overtake an entire body, orchestrating the coordinated and prolonged creation and delivery of an entirely new and unique sentient being, which the body then must sustain for months longer with only its own nutritional synthetic power, how is it that you are still not crowned the queen of all organs of strength, capacity, and resilience?

“Balls out”, we say, when we hold up boldness and assertiveness–but only when referring to men. Do we only see it when men are heroic and daring? What about when women take dauntless risks, so often on behalf of others? How do we express our admiration for this? BOOBS OUT, I say, when I want to validate a woman’s right to assert her power, agency, and independence, out loud and in front. But it doesn’t do the conviction justice. “OVARIOS,” my friend suggested, when it came up in conversation years ago. Hell yes. I’m still waiting for this to catch on.

Of course strength, courage, and resilience are not always manifest by taking impulsive public action in the face of immediate threats to survival, ego, or status. For how many generations have women held collective humanity up, well after birthing it, serving as tireless caregivers, counselors, mediators, peacemakers, scapegoats, punching bags, breadwinners, and confidants? What countless family and professional units would outright unravel and disintegrate, and then the fabric of society follow, if not for the ovarios deep in the weave?

I write this post not to devalue men or their contribution to society. Their role and relevance are unquestioned.

But please, friends, let us elevate and amplify our praise of women, yes? It is well past time, and there is plenty of room to share on the pedestal.

For a heartfelt rendering of women’s strong, stoic resilience, check out my colleague’s post on her Smiling Grandma.

Onward in solidarity.

Peace Joy Love

Rubber stamp washi tape handmade greeting card, CC, c.2020

What would happen if we challenged ourselves for the next day, week, month, rest of our life, in all of our intentions, words, actions, advocacy, and relationships, to both ground in and aspire to, simply these three core experiences? No really, stop laughing. I’m serious, what would that look like? How would it feel? How would we be and do differently?

It occurred to me recently that in life, in (and literally at) the end, what do we really need other than these? What if at the time of my death, I can look back at my work(s), my family, my friends, at everything I remember and leave behind, and really just bask in peace, joy, and love? Sign me up!

I label them experiences rather than emotions on purpose (is there yet a better word, though?). I’m not talking about superficial sensations of calm and happiness that come and go like weather. I’m after that deeply rooted, unassailable knowing–living, in each moment, consciously, in peace, in joy, and in love. It occurs to me that we can practice this; we can actively cultivate it, with each and every breath.

Of course, that’s it. Peace, Joy, and Love don’t just happen. We get to choose them. This is not an original thought or idea. But I have a new level of insight about it now. I can be peacejoylove at any moment. Would I call it a mindfulness practice? Sure. It’s a choice and an intention, a constant attending to both my outer environment and my inner world. It’s about maintaining a certain resonance, a sustained frequency, a rhythm, that keeps its own time, resilient to distraction and derailment, and that also simultaneously adjusts, adapts, and reorganizes as needed. Like a heart beat. I feel more peaceful just typing this.

I will fail. Repeatedly. Severely. But as they say in mindfulness, rather than judge the departure, I can simply, calmly, and lovingly acknowledge it, and then celebrate the return. Because as long as I commit, I will always return. I can keep going, keep doing, keep being.

So then, what would I actually be like if I did this? How could you tell?

I think I would take deeper breaths, and breathe more slowly in general. I might walk more slowly too, except when I bounce and sashay in rhythm to my favorite songs on the sidewalk. I would pause longer before entering clinical encounters, answering phone calls and text messages. I might pray, meditate, and be still more regularly. I might use even more fun emojis? …nah, I think I may have maxed out on that one already.

I already hug tight. I laugh out loud and often. I look people in the eye and tell them why they are great. I make time and go places to see people, be with them, do things that make meaning and memories. I try new things. I revel in all kinds of awesomness, all around me, all the time. I feel peacejoylove often already. But do I live it? Yes, sometimes.

I have triggers. I react. I lash out; I regret. I have a lot of work to do. But I’m on the path.

ODOMOBaaT.

Bring It.

Grief Bacon

What are your favorite words or phrases, in any language?

Daughter taught me Kummerspeck recently–literally grief bacon. It’s the German compound noun for the weight one gains from emotional eating.

How awesome is that?

I posted the word on Facebook the other day, and a loving friend of German descent commented, “I hope you are reveling in the bizarre household-nature of German compound words, and not suffering from Kummerspeck.” I replied that I have indeed experienced Kummerspeck before (possibly also now, not sure), and that “I *love* German precisely because by having words for such mundane and yet significant experiences, the language, and thus the culture, validate them and make us feel not alone for having them.”

In med school we learned Mittelschmerz–middle pain–the pain women feel from ovulation, which happens 14 days prior to menstruation (the middle of a typical 28 day cycle). Now I also love Drachenfutter–dragon fodder–‘apology gift (given to a spouse)’. And everybody knows Schadenfreude–joy in others’ misery; but I like Freudenfreude–joy in others’ joy.

In Chinese I particularly love shang nao jin, 傷腦筋, which literally means to wound (shang) the mind (nao jin–‘brain nerve’). It’s used to express when one is exhaustingly vexed by a problem. Similarly, when we say someone is dong nao jin, 動腦筋, moving the mind, we mean they are actively, even agilely, thinking. I also love shuai, 帥, which is usually translated simply as handsome. But the connotation encompasses more than just physical appearance. There is something attractive, masculine, strong, graceful, respectable, and maybe even alpha, all included in the one word, one syllable expression. Chinese language is extremely efficient.

Here are some British expressions I love, which really make me want to live there for a while someday:

Barmy, barking mad, and off your head — crazy

Fiddly — fussy, requiring an annoying amount of close attention

Faff — to make a fuss over nothing

Cheeky — amusingly irreverent (I also love irreverent itself–the word and the way of being)

Dodgy — dishonest, unreliable, potentially dangerous, low quality, or just ‘off’ in some way

Loo — the best word in the whole world for bathroom

Isn’t this fun?? Won’t it be fantastic if everybody writes about their favorite phrases in the comments below? C’mon, it’ll only take a minute!! 😀