Autonomy

I have to violate copyright law and post a quote from Robert B. Parker in Family Honor, c. 1999.

A female character is explaining something to a teenage female character:

"Sooner or later you're going to have to decide things because you think you should."
"How can I do that," Millicent said. She raised her head and stared straight at me. Her eyes were glistening with tears. "I don't know anything."
"You know one of the hard things about being a woman," I said, "is having some built-in compass that doesn't depend on others."
"I don't know what you mean," Millicent said.
"When you're talking to a male," I said. "And you want to urge him to the do the right thing you can say, 'Be a man.' " . . . "That implies that some rules of behavior come from inside," I said. "But if I tell you that maybe your goal is to be a woman, that implies what? Being compassionate? Being a good caregiver? Being sexually attractive? Cooking well?"
I was surprised at what I was saying, and how strongly I was saying it. I felt like Simone de Beauvoir.
"Being a woman implies being in a male context," I said. "Being a man implies being fully yourself. You understand what I'm saying?"

I was surprised by the synchronicity of this selection with what I am feeling as I move into a townhouse and live by myself for the first time since 1978. I feel guilty and anxious. I really have to trust myself. Many people have questioned if I have the right to do this, or if it is the right thing to do.

I don't know what would be the right thing for them to do. But I'm following my heart despite my fears, because this is the only situation which meets my needs. And I have decided I have the right to meet my needs no matter what other people think. Someday I hope I can do this without the guilt and anxiety.

I have been reading about existentialism lately.

Drops and Prisms

I recently printed out a letter from 'Abdu'l-Baha to a believer who had falsehoods against him printed in journals; quoting an excerpt: "As to those things published in journals against thee: Thou shouldst not be grieved nor sorry therefor, because thousands of journals have been written traducing 'Abdu'l-Baha, have given false and base accusations and awful calumnies . . . these cause me to exert myself more than usual in the path of God and to drink the cup of sacrifice and to boil in the fire of His love. Man must seek to gain the acceptance of God and not that of the different classes of men. If one is praised and chosen by God, the accusation of all the creatures will cause no loss to him; and if the man is not accepted in the threshold of God, the praise and admiration of all men will be of no use to him."

This assuaged my heart somewhat for being pulled aside by someone in the upper echelons at work Friday, for being insufficiently positive and leader-like.

Sorting and packing for work is a struggle. I called some numbers for bills to change my billing address and for some reason, giving the new address made me incredibly sad, even though this is a conscious choice I am making. This morning [never check Facebook before work--it will make you late!] I watched a beautiful 20 minute film about Marguerite Sears, and it opened up a fountain of tears, as it did this afternoon when I watched it again.

Feast last night was wonderful. I became reacquainted with some of the people in my new community; as there is no Assembly yet in Puyallup, we are attending the neighboring feast.

I don't know why it saddens me to move, when this is a deliberate motion to divest myself of material attachments, downsize, and lower my payments. This is an opportunity to trust in God. I am homefront pioneering; I put myself and my affairs in the hands of God. I love the little townhouse where I am moving. It doesn't have much of a view, though. It's in town, not in the country. I will miss my 0.42 acres of back yard, the view where I can watch the sun rise over Mount Rainier at dawn, and watch the moon traverse the sky at night.

I was thus feeling tired and sad, when something prompted me to look out the window. Thinking of all the broken dreams in this house, I stepped bare-headed and barefoot out onto the deck in the rain at sunset to stand for twenty minutes and watch a full glorious double rainbow.

Tear drops, rain drops. Maybe each can be a prism.

How vast the oceans of wisdom that surge within a drop.

~Baha'u'llah