a pregnant cause that can only whimper
For we birth these banal monsters
who see but cannot see within,
every scar you bear within your mind
Increasingly with yoga and my embodied practices I am now seeing the falsity of the word 'heart' to express my feelings. I wonder if we women first started to write our own emotions would we still be talking about the heart. Women began writing late and even as I blog I know that it has taken a PhD for me to practice writing. Writing myself, my emotions rather than parroting emotions and information sharing. I wonder now if this heart thing is all a big social learning thing. all the dil, pyaar, heart to heart all of it words I borrowed to say what I wanted to say from others even other women.
When I am suffering, in love, in hurt, in disappointment, my throat chokes and my chest feels heavy but nothing happens to my 'heart.' I can hear it beating steadily, perhaps a bit faster but my emotions are in my gut. In my womb, the center of my being. Whether birthed or unbirthed, used or not, my womb centers me as I grasp my tummy and hug myself. Are not our deepest connections of sisterhood in this womb? That's where we feel most violated, most vulnerable, many biological evolutions have made us womb beings. That's why attachment to children tears us like nothing else will. We survive heart breaks but never womb-breaks.
I intend to continue to blog, deconstructing the borrowed language I have writing me, my body-self and my womb, a world where Pre-Menstural is not a syndrome but a normality and ability to be rational and calm in the face of stimulus is abnormal. The emtying of a womb is not MIS - carriage and wearing make-up is a choice.