Our cat, Seymour, has very sensitive eyebrows. He really likes it when you massage them. His whole body relaxes and he drops his jaw slightly, exposing his tongue and his impressive teeth. His eyes go to half mast. He purrs.
We queer femmes feel so much responsibility, all the time, every day. We are keeping up with the news, we are part of the solution, we are outraged, we are taking care of our bodies, we are traveling for work, we are out of work and worried as hell, we are in a bind and don’t know where to turn, we are isolated, we are an indispensible part of our local community, we are managing our depression, we are taken down by our anxiety, we are in recovery, we are worried we might be drinking too much, our children are wearing our shit out, we just broke up with our partner of many years and have no idea what to do now, we are finally beginning to prioritize our own art and opportunities are popping up all over the place, we just got a diagnosis, our job is amazing but doesn’t pay enough, we know it’s time to finally deal with our childhood trauma but the effort of finding queer-friendly clinical assistance is gargantuan, our best friend just betrayed us, we are blessed to be in a healthy relationship after all these years but the learning curve is steep. We are working all of the time and there is always something urgent to do, somewhere we need to be. Something that needs improvement.
Even when we attempt to slow down – because that’s on our “to do” list, too — our busy minds keep us on the hop. How many times have you said, or heard your friends say, “I can’t meditate? I can’t stop thinking?” I’ve certainly said that. We have such a hard time shutting things off, especially since we mistakenly believe that that’s even possible. Pema Chodron says that even 10 minutes sitting quietly and allowing your mind to do its thing is a successful meditation. It’s less about trying to shut things down and more about observing, being curious about the nature of our human mind. At any rate, we none of us can stop being human, but we can become more open and aware of moments of clarity, and let those touch us with their healing. Places where we connect to the vast natural sweep of things and where we can find solace, however briefly.
Seymour can do plenty of things to amuse and soothe himself – he’s a cat, and extremely self-contained – but he can’t rub his own eyebrows. That is a gift he gives to me.
My loves, my busy, busy femme buttercups, is it watching a bee collect pollen? Is it that primal, gnarly smell of the mud flats when the tide goes out? Is it your pre-verbal baby babbling her song in the dappled sunlight? The sweet smell of your own shoulder, the first ripe cherry of the summer, a brave stand of Queen Anne’s lace in an endless parking lot? Find it today, femme sisters, whatever that perfect moment, wherever you can. I’m asking you to notice, for you, for me, for the way the universe is always offering balance and healing.
Find it and soar.
Every Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, kind, and wise and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women.
At the Total Femme, my intention is to post three times a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy-Dingy Wednesday on Wednesday and Femme Friday on Friday. Rather than play catch-up in a stressful fashion on those weeks when life prevents posting, I have decided to just move gaily forward: if I miss a Monday, the next post will be on Wednesday, and so on. Thank you, little bottle of antibiotics for inspiring me in this! (“…if it’s almost time for the next dose, skip the missed dose and continue your regular dosing schedule. Don’t take a double dose to make up for a missed one.”)
The Total Femme 