Strength Beyond the Softness

A woman is like a tea bag - you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.

Eleanor Roosevelt

I often find that I am always trying to balance myself between needing to be this soft woman, nurturer, comforter. I've always claimed that you get more bees with honey than you do vinegar. However, I find there are times where I have to put on this tough exterior and show strength. I cannot fail, I must not fail. To fail brings criticism. But then to be strong also brings criticism. You become accused of being too tough, of not being understanding. 

It is a constant inner battle that think many women can relate to. One one hand people want to see the soft and gentle female and in lots of way she is attractive because of her calm and soothing nature. On the other hand we are told that we are irrational, or we cry too easily or we have to talk about our feelings too much, therefore I feel we are forced into being these cold hearted women that are strong, stone, rocks. 

I like being both. I believe there is strength in both. I do not want to be a woman who is walked all over or doesn't speak her mind. I also don't want to be that woman who everyone is scared of because she speaks her mind 'alllll' the time and doesn't consider the impact of her words on others. I also don't want to be that woman who, in order to show her strength, emasculates the men around her. 

So how do I find this balance? I find it in the women who surround me and the main man in my life who puts up with me. I am surrounded by so many strong women. When needed, these women can become terminators (watch out Arnie). They will go to all extents to protect their loved ones, to defend what is right despite being ridiculed for standing up for right. They are women who are smart and show their smarts, they are not ashamed of who they are and they are admirable in the way they work with others, lead others and support others. As well as being a terminator one minute they are Florence Nightingale the next, they are the nurturer taking the problems of those around them before even considering their own needs. They work endlessly for the needs of others, to the point where you can see they are worn out, they have little left to give, yet they find the smallest of strength for the next problem or person that comes in need of them. These women model me the balance that I need to find in my own life.

Then there is the main man in my life...my husband. He allows me to be the woman I am and he helps me to be better than I am. With his gentleness he give me the opportunity to be strong without feeling weak in himself, he also, with loving words, continues to encourage me to pursue my passions and the goals I have. But there is also this other side to him. With the same gentleness he takes away my burdens by caring for me. By recognising when I reaching the point of having nothing left to give and he comforts me. He does not criticise me for being this strong woman one moment and being this weak needy woman the next. His love helps me to feel strong and soft. We need to also appreciate men in our lives that bring out the best in us. We need to be careful not to push them away in our determined times of independence, but allow ourselves to work with them in partnership drawing their strength and gentleness as well.

The woman in this artwork painted by Da Vinci shows both strength and softness. The tones show how organic she is, how natural her form is and yet there is also this firmness in her features, her hair is not perfect and falls dishevelled around her face. She shows calm and strength. There is also a sense that she is weary and tired. Within her face there is such beauty even though she perhaps doesn't feel it. Da Vinci captures her essence beautifully. 

We need to remember that we do not need to chose between being a strong woman or a soft gentle woman, that in fact God has blessed the female sex with both characteristics. He has made her strong, steadfast and determined. He has done this because she is needed in those moments to be the continued strength that drives others and spurs others on. He has also made her soft, vulnerable, irrational, emotional...as this is also needed to show the world how to 'feel'. But in all that she is compassionate, comforter and gentle, because he has also made her to be the one who will comfort those in need of comfort and gentle so others can feel that they are loved. God has made woman beautifully and in her he has laid his image...and given any temperature she will show the right temperament as needed for that situation. 

La Scapiliata 

Leonardo Da Vinci

Battle on All Fronts

It grows, clinging and climbing its way not just into flesh but mind, body, soul. The claws dig deep, attempting to bring down the human spirit, the will to live, the need for a promise to see beyond the month, year or decade. The word 'options' gets passed quickly almost without feeling as though it is a speech that has become too common. It has lost meaning, as options are the only thing that seems left. No option guaranteeing full success and all options coming with their risk.

The flesh is cut, poison is pumped into the body. Poison needed to defeat poison. Many are met with different results as treatment becomes a routine that seeps beyond the surgery. Waiting room artworks are gazed at and glassed over, blocking the landscapes from the ones who need hope most. No longer are parks entertained with delight, but with possible regret of memories that will never be made, memories that will feel the absence of life, memories that could have been.

At first company surrounds, prayers are offered up, meals are made, children babysat and partners supported with words of encouragement. But as the weeks progress bit by bit loneliness creeps in. Prayers are offered up for another community member battling the poison in another form receiving the  other 'option'.

It takes over at different speeds. At times, it allows farewells to be given, plans to be made and at other times, it strikes like a thief. For some it fades and allows healing to take place, but deep down there is always the fear. Regardless of routines and tests to make sure the poison is kept away, there is fear of return.

It is a battle. The front line moving backwards and forwards in a tug-of-war for victory. There are survivors, casualties... a disease that has far too many left at the front line never to return.

We then come to mourn together those who have fallen and hold onto the photos, the picture in mind, replaying them over and over again to ensure they are never forgotten.  Always embedded on our hearts, a scar leaving mixed memories of a life lived and the last moments when they are but a ghost of their true self.