When my grandmother died, I inherited her book, Meditations for Women published by the Abingdon Press in 1947. I think she got it from her Methodist church. It contains 365 meditations, each month written by a different woman, each month a different theme. Though not a Christian, I am comforted by this sweet book, especially when I come across passages my grandmother underlined. I have long wanted to follow in these women’s footsteps by writing meditations for queer femmes, to offer spiritual solace. Here is a beginning.
We femme caretakers often stumble when it comes to the job of taking care of ourselves. Our heart’s work makes it easy for us to know when a kiss, a cute outfit, a kind text, a care package of just-baked cookies, an old-school card sent snail mail will lift the spirits of one of us brought low by circumstance (and there’s a lot of circumstance this November). We can organize a community-building get-together at the drop of a hat, make community connections and encourage our colleagues like none other. But how often do we find ourselves on the outskirts of these life-giving events, casting an eye over the snacks and drinks to make sure everyone is provided for, never fully joining in the laughter and conversation ourselves? This November, let us commit to parsing out where, when and with whom we find reciprocity and healing. Let us commit to spending time with people who give as well as receive. Let us commit to spending time alone, unplugged, in healing solitude. Our work as community organizers and activists is more important than ever. That our souls remain healthy, love-filled and joyous undergirds everything.
The Total Femme 