By Elizabeth Clanton, Mindful Moments Doula Services
How do you help people that don't know they need to be helped? How do you inform people of things they think they are already educated about? How do you empower women who don't even realize their power has been taken? How do you heal people that don't realize they've been wounded? How do you get Justice for women who don't even realize they've been robbed? How do you open people's eyes to what's going on when they already think they can see? How do you show women how the power of the matriarchy was oppressed and stolen by the patriarchy? How do you get people to realize that this is even significant at all?
Just because something happened thousands of years ago doesn't make it insignificant. Look at all of the repercussions one after the other creating each other like a line of falling dominoes knocking itself into Oblivion. In a time of war and scarcity we asked the men to protect us. Instead they took our Spears and placed them at our own throats. We once had flourishing villages fueled by communal care. Now divided we sit conquered in body, mind, and soul segregated into tiny little houses built of ticky tacky. We sit in our boxes, stare into our boxes, and are happy to work our slave jobs to give our money back to our masters. Our women have been belittled to the point of compliance over the last eight thousand years to serve men and be grateful for the chance to do it. We once had strong maternal lines informing and guiding us, molding us into empowered courageous women. We supported each other and our men. we normalized birth for the rite of passage it is. We had no fear of this awe inspiring Life giving act. there was no room for doubt in our bodies because we knew of our sisters, mother's, aunts, cousins, and grandmothers births. The wisdom of our foremothers was handed down freely. We knew how transcendental birth is and why it's so sacred. We held space for one another and gave proper support in times of healing. Now under the rule of the patriarchy we slowly began to give our power away to the men. We began to doubt our bodies. We let men intervene in childbirth. Look at the depictions of our foremothers and their midwives. The women were upright with their midwives kneeling in service to the birthing goddess, knowing we all take our turns on this metaphorical throne of suffering and rebirth. Women were allowed to sing their birth songs and dance their birth dances with Love beaming out of their eyes. They knew all was well because it always had been. Men came in and imposed their own fear and ignorance of birth upon us. The patriarchal system planted seeds of doubt inside of our minds so deep we have begun to think they were there all along. Power drunk men possessed by the patriarchy needed to be the heroes of the story. They needed the glorification and recognition to fuel their egos so badly that they did not care or even consider the ramifications. They convinced us that we were weak and and knowledgeable. By separating us our stories were lost. Next thing we know we're laying on our backs begging these men to save us from the awful frightening labor of our bodies bringing forth life. We lay down our power to be of better service to the male in our time of sacred transformation because we have become blind to ourselves. Our mirrors have been fouled up so dirty our reflections are beyond recognition. In this dirty water we cannot make out our true reflections. We lay on our backs inviting even more excruciating pain, no longer focused on comforting ourselves we only care to comply to appease these men. Staying still, silent, and unbothersome while bringing our babies earthside, we surrender to fear instead of faith and welcome our patriarchal saviors. Here he comes with his mystical weapons meant to vanquish the demon of birth.
After centuries of being made compliant we have all but forgotten our power. The love we have for our babies has been turned around and used upon us as a weapon to make us doubt ourselves. In man comes with his scalpel and forceps to bring the baby to salvation from the dangers of the unruly vagina. Along comes the magical potion of pain relief to quieten our birth roars and knock us out to avoid complaints. We wake up out of a fog to find our babies already out of our bodies and our doctor savior who saved us and our babies from the deadly act of birth. To further appease our heroes, we dare not inconvenience his schedule, so we introduced his time clock to our act that one took place in a suspended timeless floating haze of relaxation. Forced to speed up our sacred act, in comes our hero with yet another miraculous cure to help our weak bodies that can not perform fast enough. Our salvation comes with synthetic birth hormones sent to overwork our bodies so we may give in faster to yet more magic saving interventions. He keeps coming up with more miraculous techniques to save us from our normal acts of life that he perceives to be of danger until we are having our babies cut from our bellies in great salvation. With unsurmountable appreciation we beg for our hero to save us and our babies from ourselves. Without even realizing these dangers the doctor made up merely to provide the miraculous cure. We're so far removed from our ancestors we've all but forgotten how to give birth, and without our heroes we will see the end of the human race. We've lost our knowledge of the euphoric ecstasy of birth and postpartum. We've forgotten our bodies own magical medicine. It's all been fouled up and deemed undesirable by the men who have never even experienced it. We're so far removed from ourselves we mistake our own mother's compassion for latent acts of indecency.
So now may I ask, how do we begin to remember? How do we settle the waters debris enough to truly see who we used to be? How do we convince ourselves that what once was used may be old, but it is more advanced than our current axe today? How do we remind our daughters of their own power deep in their wombs? How do we take the power back? How do we overthrow the patriarchy to restore the matriarchy of our foremothers? How do we start our own birth revolution? One birth at a time. Enlighten one mind at a time to see the ancient story. Empower one woman at a time to take back her own power and remind her own sisters of what they can do. Break the chains the patriarchy has molded around our minds. Pull the weeds of doubt from our gardens and prune our rose bushes of love to flourish once again. Once we realize the abundance of our power we can begin to see it within ourselves again. Once we recognize it deep within us, we realize it's been there the whole time, unseen, shrouded in the fog, laying in wait for us to come searching. With such brilliant radiance our love will once more pour out of our eyes ferociously as we gaze out upon a new horizon. We will experience The rebirth of feminine consciousness.
Clanton, Elizabeth, Mindful Moments Doula Services
Matriarchy Rising, Facebook, March 8, 2020
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