When sleeping women wake, mountains move.
~ Chinese proverb
There’s this really simple rule.
Women give when they are full.
You try taking away a woman’s sleep, emptying her fridge and grabbing at her for days on end, and you will meet an unruly tyrant, full of reckless commotion and serious angst.
Give her a warm meal, a hearty book and a couch full of good women, however, and she will go out in the world and shower love down on it like she’s Mother Theresa. She will hold up the sky and draw people under it and give them a soft place to land.
When men are full, they build things. They lead. When women are full, we love things. We care.
And friends, contrary to popular belief, leading does not make the world go round. Love does.
Sometimes, I lie in bed at night thinking that if all the women of the world were full at the exactly same time, the world would be a changed place. I lie awake thinking that if they were so full they exploded at exactly the same moment, it would be a force unlike the world has ever seen. It would be a love revolution. A reloveution, in fact. And I may not know a lot, but I know that right now, there is nothing the world needs more.
There was a time long ago when I filled myself with trash television, recreational mood enhancers, bad thoughts and even worse company. At the time, I thought I was full. I was running around with a smile on my face and a pill in my pocket and music beating deep in my belly. I loved the world until I wasn’t in the mood to anymore, which isn’t really love at all. You know how I know I wasn’t full? Because I never gave. Women give when they are full. I took everything and gave nothing back but a fiery temper, deep insecurity, and a hot well of judgement. And those things, turns out, are all signs of emptiness. If I’m sure of anything at all, it’s that love and emptiness are poles apart. Opposites, in fact.
On the long road between There and Here, I found a town to settle in. I ventured the length and breadth of this town, the height and depth of it, and in doing so, I found food. Real food.
Books, music and real conversations with honest women gave me an opening to peer through. The wrapping which creates distance between folks is removed. The surface stuff…appearances, finances, faith, politics, marriages, families…the things which rise to the top and cause separation, isolation and disconnection…they are gone, and what is left is the realization and relief that we are more alike than we are different. What’s inside each of us is the same. Hope and pain and fear and sorrow and the huge swelling desire to be happy. Insecurity and loneliness and beauty and boredom and strength and vulnerability and the desperate need to be loved. Mess and secrets and darkness and uncertainty and the many things which grow like thick jungle underneath and which we often tread through in silence. They lie there, right down there, in all of us. Every day.
My point – and there is one – is this.
I have a hunch that women with two things might just change the world. Women who are full, and women who see under the wrapping. Women who not only understand that we are more alike than we are different, but who are filled up enough to overflow a little of their hearts out.
May we be a community of women who are vastly different but who celebrate the connection we share and the moments which make us happy. May we stop here and refuel. May we devour real food. May we try a little harder to peer under the wrapping. May we be brave enough to peel our own back a little. May we blame a little less and love a little more and may we find the inspiration to make big dreams for our one wild and precious life.
Fierce as a lions, soft as silk, we are.
And mighty powerful when we are full.