Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The Lifted Veil

Mallory rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You don't know what
you're talking about."

-- Chloe Neill, Some Girls Bite

I've started pondering, trying to get a grasp on exactly what the difference that makes me feel so free now, and at all the time I just felt so joyful when I got to socialize as female.

I've used the metaphor of a dam in earlier blogs, and while a good model, doesn't support the ease with which we feel relieved and comforted when allowed to change our perspective.

The metaphor that I've been thinking of is that rationalizing away our feelings, forcing ourselves to experience the world in a certain way because we were to afraid and ashamed of the possible results, is more like a veil that we gently lowered over our face.

Like most veils, we could see the world differently, but it often didn't make sense. Many times, the fabric of the veil blinded us to things that we could have and would have noticed if the light reflected off the object hadn't been occluded. We see the world, while at the same time we miss the world.

My male facade was like that veil, gently lowered oh so long ago. It enabled me to ignore things that weren't supposed to attract my attention, like the blinders sometimes attached to a cart horse to keep it from being distracted.

But it did not hide everything. It did not make me interested in the "other" things that I could see. I was often bored, seeing little of anything that I liked, until I lifted the veil just slightly.

A light-weight piece of cloth suspended over the face became easy to get used to, and eventually it was annoying. I knew there were things I could catch a glimpse of, only to have them washed out in white.

The veil kept me from experiencing life in the feminine, in the creative, in the interconnected wonder of life right in front of me. The flimsy piece of material might as well have been a high-security lock on my spiritual growth, until...

I began to lift my veil a crack from time to time, so I could experience the world around me without it being filtered by my facade. But the veil would insist on falling back in place.

Soon, I decided to only wear the veil where I was expected to wear the veil, yet it was still pinned to my hair, ready to drop back in place.

I feel as if the veil has been lifted and packed away. I feel myself more clearly through my unfiltered experiences with others.

Now, I can be truly honest. Now I can be fully at one with myself and my spritual connection to the divine. Now, I can truly have integrity.

Like being able to walk without pain after having been almost numbed by the pain, I feel the joy in normal living.

Dance lessons last night were just the ticket. I had a slight cramp in my calf and another moving knot in my thigh, but since I could walk without limping finally, I returned to Blues Swing Dance lessons. We had a few really good moves that we learned, and I had a little trouble learning to transition from a turn directly into switches. But it was absolute fun, and I'm feeling better. The dance class was downstairs and full, so by the time we were done, many of us were drenched in sweat. I didn't stay long after, because of that, just finishing my drink and leaving.

I am looking forward to dance lessons tomorrow.

Today, after work, I plan to file the divorce petition. It's not something that I am looking forward to, but we do need to free each other before either of us winds up doing something regretful.

I'll start passively job-hunting soon. Maybe I can get a job closer to my children or at least pays well enough for me to pay plane fares.

Hugs and God Bless,

1 comment:

  1. The description of living male and seeing through a veil was rather appropriate I think.
    I am envious of you and your dance lessons, much grace and rhythm to you.