In Buddhist culture, the lotus flower is an important symbol. The lotus’ roots run deep in the underwater mud while the stem grows upward through the stream until it reaches the surface where the beautiful flower can bloom. This symbol is meant to represent our consciousness. We are to ground ourselves in this life, rise above the murky pond waters that represent the illusions of mortal life, emerge above it all, and bloom into enlightenment. Unfortunately for you, my reader, this beautiful symbolism is a false preface, because I am not a woman writing an enlightened blog in a Buddhist world. I am a post-partum woman writing a blog in a man’s world, and I’m really fucking pissed about it.
6 months ago I had a baby, and so I look like shit. The American beauty standard is lean and slightly muscular. I hear women complaining about how lucky men are that the beauty standard favors them. Well guess what, it’s not luck. It favors them because they ARE the beauty standard. It’s a man’s world indeed, and to be masculine is to be beautiful so it is no matter of luck that my female child bearing body isn’t pretty. I wake up every morning completely aware that I was not born with awesome metabolism, that I certainly don’t gain weight in all the “right” places, and that I grew a human inside me for 10 months and he wrecked the place. This is the not the best way for my consciousness to be spending it’s time. I doubt the path to the blooming flower of enlightenment will be found in the quick calorie add option of my Fitness Pal App. If you’re a man reading this, you have no idea what I just said. So it would appear that the murky waters of life’s illusions that we are all trudging through is a little bit thicker for us ladies. From the moment I wake up and especially when I get to work, I am battling my man’s world induced rage.
I once worked in an office full of women, professional, adult women with families and mortgages . . . We were constantly getting reminded to please be quiet, like we were elementary school children walking down the hallway. And that’s not the only time we were reminded of the ever so common female stereotype that women are child-like, we also got to play scavenger hunts, and have “witch hat” day. Once, I was asked to participate in a game where you get a $25 reward if you can make it all YEAR without being late or calling off. Twenty five dollars for a year’s worth of work is a number that reminds me of when my grandma asked me to scratch her back for a nickel, because that too is appropriate compensation for someone under the age of ten. We weren’t teenagers working for pizza money; we were adults trying to support a family. And in order to play the game, I’m embarrassed to even tell you, we had to cut out a fish and color it as our game piece. Yes, color it-like with crayons. I mean, as long as we did it quietly. Can you even imagine an office full of adult men being asked to color a fish? No, I bet you can't. But hey, at least Christmas is coming and I will get some relaxation time with family.
Oh wait, women in my family don’t relax on holidays, they cook and clean up while the men sit in the living room and relax after eating the meal that was prepared for them. I don't ever remember hearing that the Bible said if though has a penis, though shall not do thy dishes, but I assume it must because asking a man to do dishes in my family is not even an option. And perhaps, by the time the we are done washing dishes and putting food away, we will deliver slices of pie to our resting kings. That’s why I quit going to family functions. I don’t work 40 hours and pay half a household’s bills on a teenager’s salary just to feel guilty about eating carbs at Christmas and then clean up all the mess.
According to Buddhism, we are all trying to “graduate” from this consciousness and enter a more enlightened way of being. Part of enlightenment means accepting the murky illusions of life as they are, and focusing on real truth, whatever that is. I am nowhere near being able to that. I’m too angry to accept this female condition I’ve been born into, and accepting it feels a lot more to me like being a complacent chump than being enlightened. And so I gift this rant to you this holiday season, it’s not written as an enlightened Buddhist, but as a post-partum women living in a man’s world, and I’m super pissed off about it.
6 months ago I had a baby, and so I look like shit. The American beauty standard is lean and slightly muscular. I hear women complaining about how lucky men are that the beauty standard favors them. Well guess what, it’s not luck. It favors them because they ARE the beauty standard. It’s a man’s world indeed, and to be masculine is to be beautiful so it is no matter of luck that my female child bearing body isn’t pretty. I wake up every morning completely aware that I was not born with awesome metabolism, that I certainly don’t gain weight in all the “right” places, and that I grew a human inside me for 10 months and he wrecked the place. This is the not the best way for my consciousness to be spending it’s time. I doubt the path to the blooming flower of enlightenment will be found in the quick calorie add option of my Fitness Pal App. If you’re a man reading this, you have no idea what I just said. So it would appear that the murky waters of life’s illusions that we are all trudging through is a little bit thicker for us ladies. From the moment I wake up and especially when I get to work, I am battling my man’s world induced rage.
I once worked in an office full of women, professional, adult women with families and mortgages . . . We were constantly getting reminded to please be quiet, like we were elementary school children walking down the hallway. And that’s not the only time we were reminded of the ever so common female stereotype that women are child-like, we also got to play scavenger hunts, and have “witch hat” day. Once, I was asked to participate in a game where you get a $25 reward if you can make it all YEAR without being late or calling off. Twenty five dollars for a year’s worth of work is a number that reminds me of when my grandma asked me to scratch her back for a nickel, because that too is appropriate compensation for someone under the age of ten. We weren’t teenagers working for pizza money; we were adults trying to support a family. And in order to play the game, I’m embarrassed to even tell you, we had to cut out a fish and color it as our game piece. Yes, color it-like with crayons. I mean, as long as we did it quietly. Can you even imagine an office full of adult men being asked to color a fish? No, I bet you can't. But hey, at least Christmas is coming and I will get some relaxation time with family.
Oh wait, women in my family don’t relax on holidays, they cook and clean up while the men sit in the living room and relax after eating the meal that was prepared for them. I don't ever remember hearing that the Bible said if though has a penis, though shall not do thy dishes, but I assume it must because asking a man to do dishes in my family is not even an option. And perhaps, by the time the we are done washing dishes and putting food away, we will deliver slices of pie to our resting kings. That’s why I quit going to family functions. I don’t work 40 hours and pay half a household’s bills on a teenager’s salary just to feel guilty about eating carbs at Christmas and then clean up all the mess.
According to Buddhism, we are all trying to “graduate” from this consciousness and enter a more enlightened way of being. Part of enlightenment means accepting the murky illusions of life as they are, and focusing on real truth, whatever that is. I am nowhere near being able to that. I’m too angry to accept this female condition I’ve been born into, and accepting it feels a lot more to me like being a complacent chump than being enlightened. And so I gift this rant to you this holiday season, it’s not written as an enlightened Buddhist, but as a post-partum women living in a man’s world, and I’m super pissed off about it.
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