dare to dream

SYTYCD: Masculine and Feminine Archetypes in Bold Relief

In the finale of So You Think You Can Dance (SYTYCD), can you see the masculine and feminine archetypes at play?

If not, here's a hint, another, and another.

Before you read on, imagine for a minute, if the men had danced the first dance, the women the second?

What are the implications, both positive and negative, of these archetypes? Meaning, what strengths does society perceive we have in spades, whether we do or not?  And what weaknesses, are we perceived to have?

What can we, and do we, do with this understanding?

For a full recap of the finale, click here.

Guest post: Janna Taylor on 'The Handless Maiden'

About a year ago, Janna Taylor, a Manhattan entrepreneur, told one of her stories in the entry If You Get Defensive, You're Getting Close.  In this post, she shares her thoughts on the myth of The Handless Maiden.  As with the myth of Psyche, The Handless Maiden chronicles feminine psychological development (e.g. she preserves her uniquely feminine nature even as she makes something happen).  Note too that while some tasks along the journey can be delegated, some cannot.

***

The The Handless Maiden is a fable first introduced to me through Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ seminal work Women Who Run With the Wolves, a book that explores messages about women’s nature in myths and fables.  This myth, in particular, hearkens to living our dreams even as we belligerently scream, “But, I can’t!”

As the tale begins, a young maiden’s hands have been severed by the devil. After an intense journey of physical and psychological travail, she finds safety and peace, and eventually marries a good, devoted king and births a healthy baby.  But one day, “…the young queen goes to the well. As she bends over to draw water, her child falls into the well. The young queen begins to shriek, and a spirit appears and asks why she does not rescue her child. ‘Because I have no hands!’ she cries. ‘Try,’ says the spirit, and as the maiden puts her arms in the water, reaching toward her child, her hands regenerate then and there, and the child is saved.” 

Source:  istockphoto 

 

Like the handless maiden, we have dream “babies” come along. We birth them amidst trials and challenges, and carry them close to our hearts.  But because of circumstances in or out of our control, sometimes our dreams start to slip away, losing our sense of can-do-it-ness. This happens not only because of the inevitability of distractions, but also by devaluing our dreams by saying they take too much time, attention, sacrifice.

We feel hand-less.

Mercifully and benevolently, however, there is a piece of our self, just like the maiden, who knows we must try.  Try even though it looks impossible. Try even though everyone, including ourselves, thinks we might be crazy and don’t have the skills.

In the process of reaching deep within the well of ourselves to save our dreams, internal and external naysayers notwithstanding, we get back our can-do-it-ness.

We grow the hands. 

As you have plunged your hands deep into your psyche to save your dream, what has grown or even re-grown?

 

Why can this task not be delegated?

 

Source:  istockphoto

 

*** 

  P.S. from Whitney -- I find the focus on hands especially poignant, perhaps because I am a pianist by training.  I was also intrigued by Gerald and Lindsay Saltzman's commentary in Marketing Metaphoria.  They write, "everyday conversation is rife with expressions that equate hands with the deep metaphor of connection...'Lend me a hand', to ask someone for help.  'Taking someone's hand in marriage' connects us to a social institution as well as a highly personal commitment...Hands create art, movies, clothing, books, houses, and so.  We value handmade crafts because of their connection to the jeweler, weaver, potter...bestowing handmade gifts is 'like giving a part of [our]selves to another." 

 

A 21st Century Country Bunny

I recently re-discovered The Country Bunny and The Little Gold Shoes, a book my friend Kathleen introduced to me several years ago. 

The Country Bunny illustrates the feminine hero's journey: we observe the protagonist learning to prioritize, delegate, say no, and to get things done. 

I'll comment on just a few phrases:

1)  "Some day I shall grow up to be an Easter Bunny: -- you wait and see!"

All little girls have an 'I'dentity -- they know they are the archetypal Rachel.  But then many of us forget. The Country Bunny doesn't. 

Photo courtesy:   The Little Red Hen

2)  "By and by she had a husband and then one day...there were twenty-one Cottontail babies to take care of."

Do you recall that Psyche's 1st Task, the prototypical story of feminine psychological development, is to Sort the Seeds.  To become the hero of her story, the Country Bunny must (as must we) learn to sort through the seeds of possibilities in the face of conflicting feelings and competing loyalties.  She wanted to be the Easter Bunny and to marry and to have bunnies.  We make choices, and then we get to honor our choices.

3)  "And one day, when her children stopped being babies and were little girl and boy bunnies, she called them to her and said, "Now we are going to have some fun."

Psyche's 3rd Task is to Fill the Flask during which she learns to delegate and to achieve goals against tough odds.  We too must learn to delegate, whether at home or in the workplace if we are to become the hero of our story. 

Psyche's 4th Task is to Obtain a Box of Beauty Ointment, which requires her to learn to say no.  In delegating to our children, our spouses, to those who work for us, it may feel like we are saying 'no' to them (so that we can say selfishly 'yes' to our selves), but aren't we really saying 'yes' to those in our tutelage when we delegate?  

Look at how competent and capable the Country Bunny's children are!  And what CEO wouldn't want her/his corporation to run as smoothly as does Country Bunny Inc?  

Photo courtesy:  The Little Red Hen

4)  "You have proved yourself to be not only wise and kind, and swift, but also very clever.  Come to the Palace tomorrow afternoon, and you shall be my fifth Easter Bunny."

Psyche's task of Gathering the Fleece teaches her to gets things done in a way that gives life to and revitalizes others.   She is innately wise and kind (deeply connected to those she loves) AND she is swift and clever (connected to her self).   

If we are already swift and clever, have we learned to be wise and kind (I digress for this is probably the masculine journey...)?

SOOO...to those of you who are wise and kind, and the ones of you I know -- indeed are!  Are you also becoming swift and clever?

Learning to connect to others and to self - to honor 'you' and 'I'.

Both/and.

Yes and no.

This is our hero's journey.

I am so happy to have re-discovered this book.

Will you go and buy it -- and share with us your insights?

When our loved ones ask 'what about me?'

When a would-be 'dare to dreamgirl' eagerly shared with her husband an entrepreneurial idea, his response was:

What about our household?  Our children?  I suspect he was also thinking what about me?

The myth of Psyche, a story that helps us understand feminine psychological development, may have been helpful here, as Psyche would not have undertaken her hero's journey had it not been for the sake of a relationship.  Meaning, consensus suggests women can't attend to their relationships and their identity:  the Psyche myth suggests otherwise.

Let's look at the first question:

1)  What about our home?

As we pursue a dream, will there be specific tasks that we currently do that won't get done (e.g. will chaos ensue?) 

Do you remember the ants that help with Psyche's first task?  The ants illustrate the importance of intuition and of delegation as we sort and sift through priorities.  Specifically, as we plan out how to get our dream done, let's inventory which of the tasks that mom currently does that can be delegated to our children. Our husband. To outside help.

Lest you worry that by delegating these jobs, you will no longer have a real place within your family, think again.  It's simply not true. 

And remember -- just as the ants sorted the seeds one-by-one, we can delegate one task, one simple task, see what happens, then delegate another.

Sort, sift, sort some more. 

Source:  istockphoto

2)  What about our relationships?

Psyche's 3rd Task, which involves filling the flask, or achieving a goal against tough odds, also illustrates the importance of delegation.  This time she delegates to Zeus' eagle.  I can't help but think that the eagle is representative of the men in our lives.  There are things that we can learn from them, not to mention our children, that will help us accomplish our goals. 

Source:  istockphoto

3)  What about the times when our journey requires we go it alone?

Psyche's 4th Task requires she journey alone to retrieve a box of beauty ointment. As she travels she must say no (word of protection) to those seeking help so she can say yes (word of connection) to her relationships. With any dream, there are moments when we must figuratively, if not literally, go it alone.

Which circles us back to our loved ones underlying query -- 'What about me?'

For Psyche's 2nd Task, gathering the fleece, that's the easy part. The trick is to gather without engaging in head-butting, thus losing her innate sense of caring and connectedness.  This is not an easy one for me.  It has been and continues to be easy to become so intent on gathering the fleece, and wanting to be good at that gathering, that I (we) can forget why we are gathering in the first place. 

Source:  istockphoto

In Orson Card's book The Call of Earth, there's a character named Hushith.  As a raveler, Hushith "lives in the constant awareness of all the connections and relationships among the people around her. Having a web-sense is naturally the most important thing in her life, as she watches people connect and detach from each other, forming communities and dissolving them."

So here's what I wonder.

Do any of us really begrudge our loved ones living their dream, fleece gathering as it were, so long as our relationships are strengthened, and the fleece they gather is spun into wool that binds them to us? 

Samuel Johnson said, "the ultimate result of all ambition is to be happy at home."

So true.

Source:  Etsy -- Swallowfield

As you have the floated an idea, have you encountered resistance from your loved ones?

Is it possible that the resistance is less about their confidence in your ability to pursue the dream, and more about their concern that you will go away?  I must say I often wonder what happens on What not to Wear after the makeover.  How do the relationships shift?

If you aren't willing to delegate, why?  Are you worried about your loss of place?  Or identity?

In what ways can we involve our children, our husbands and the men in our life in the pursuit of our dream?

If the connections between and among people were visible, what would people see? Who would we be connected to?  Five years ago?  Five years hence?

Looking for the 'I' in the Twilight Series

I just finished Stephenie Meyer's Breaking Dawn which, like the first three novels, I read in less than 24 hours.

But even as I continue to read and buy her books, I find myself increasingly discombobulated.

There are so many things to like.

The deeply romantic 'girl-gets-swept off her feet by two knights in shining armor' plot.

The fact that 'Bella is loved because she exists - not because she does everything right - and deep down this is what we all want -- to be loved for our very existence', as Janna commented in my "Allure of the pom-pom" post (see below); being loved for our very existence should be (I believe is) an inalienable right.

Then there's Bella's relatedness and nurturing and connecting, traits innate to women, which all too often are under appreciated by others, as well as ourselves.

And yet, believing as I do -- in the importance of moving ourselves to the center of our life story, learning to establish priorities, to accomplish goals, to learn to say no -- I've found myself in a surprising love/hate relationship with Meyer's books.

Because as hard as I try, I just can't find the 'I'-dentity.

Whether it's Bella having no interest in an education, to her continual physical danger from which she needs to be rescued, to her inability to set boundaries.

In response to a prior post (see 'An A or F on the Galadriel Test' below) some have noted that Bella and Edward do not engage in pre-marital sex. Which is true. But only because of Edward's unusual self-control.

Even if I set aside the unrealistic world view that there are more than a few men who could resist their beloved throwing herself at him, I am very uncomfortable with the idea of being beholden to another's integrity. Of doing the right thing not because I choose to, but because I happen to be surrounded by others who do.

Some days it would be nice -- I would like to be two again -- but most of the time I really do want to grow up, to embark on the Psyche-like journey of feminine development. I think most of us do.

Being loved is an inalienable right, but exercising choice is too.

Can you recommend any books with female characters that are both/and? Connected like Bella, but also learning to establish priorities, achieve goals, to exercise choice?

My friend Kathleen P just recommended the Sandra Gulland series "The Many Lives & Secret Sorrows of Josephine B."

I've only just begun the book, but maybe.

Any others?

Some of you are going to disagree with me -- some of you are going to wonder why I am spending so much time thinking about this, whatever your thoughts -- I'd love to hear them.

P.S. Sarah Palin was appointed the Republican VP nominee yesterday. Perhaps she's a both/and role model. Too early to really know. But early indications tell me she's someone to watch.

Related posts:
An 'A' or an 'F' on the Galadriel test?
Et tu, Whitney?
The allure of the pom-pom
What I've learned by identifying my heros
Second thoughts on Psyche's 2nd task

Artist My 'I' Likes: Jane Maxwell

My friend Liz and I discovered the artist Jane Maxwell at an art gallery in Boston a few summers ago.

Some of you are going to love her work as much as I do. Which means that when I'm ready to buy a piece the price will be even higher.

But I just wanted to share.

Of my favorites, the first is 'Walking Girls'.

'Pick your Fruit' reminds me of of a photo I have of my mother who modeled in San Francisco in the early 1960's; I also remember going to orchards to pick apricots with her as a child.

Though I've read Ms. Maxwell's statement, her work has a slightly different meaning for me (as it well may for you). I see a both/and -- the connecting and caring that is symbolized by the fruit labels/the farmer's market -- and the 'I or identity piece of ourselves that I see in the stance of the women -- at least in the images that I like.

Bottom line -- I'm not quite sure why I love her artwork so much.

Isn't it usually that way?

We discover art, we love it, and only later we come to see how the art has named for us something that we somehow couldn't.

What is your response?

Do you like, dislike, love, hate -- or are you indifferent to her work?

What meaning do you make?

Related posts:

Blog I Like: Portabellopixie
Affirming our 'I'dentity
Farmer's market metaphor
Dreaming or deflecting?

Spoiler alert

I woke up this morning happy, rolled over, slept some more.

An hour later, I woke up again, giddy.

My husband took our children to visit with family for the day.

So I'm home alone without a list of a million things that I expect myself to get done because my perfectionist self is away as well...I kindly asked that she go on holiday -- and proceeded to give myself a permission slip...

To watch two episodes of What not to Wear (if anyone would like to nominate me -- would you please?)

To get up when I want to.

To think what I want to.

To do what I want to -- when I want to.

Used by permission from Swallowfield

What will I do today?

I don't know yet.

And I don't need or want to know.

My friend Jen said to me recently, "How can I 'dare to dream' when I don't even have time to think my own thoughts?"

She's absolutely right, isn't she?

If you don't quite have it in you to carve out a day alone 'just because', when your husband or boyfriend or roommates or parents or friends ask you what you want for your next birthday, tell them you want a day all by yourself -- in your very own house -- to think your own thoughts.

It's going to be hard to ask -- so before you do -- you may want to read: Martha and Mary, Psyche and choice, Asking for what we want, Making a place for your dream, Learning to 'Let it Be'.

A day by your self will feel indulgent.

It will spoil you.

And it will feel wonderful.

Have any of you done this recently?

Just how hard was it? Or not?

How did you feel?

Did you find there was there more, not less, of your self, more ability to care and connect?

When a dream dies

My first pregnancy had been SO easy.

First try.  Pregnant.  Not a day of morning sickness.

And notwithstanding the fact that I'd had my son the old-fashioned way because no anesthesiologists were on hand when I arrived at the hospital, his birth was also easy.

Two years later, I was ready to have another baby.

I'd get pregnant in late August; an early summer baby wouldn't interfere with my busy time at work, and allow me to enjoy a summer off.

Baby number two -- coming right up.

Easy peasy.

©iStockphoto.com/RonTech2000

Until I miscarried.

I was only one month along.  No big deal - I told myself.

But it was a big deal.

My body and world were reshaping, welcoming new possibilities -- I was going to have another baby.

And then I wasn't.

***

Several months ago, one of my girlfriends' dreams derailed.

Oddly enough, I immediately thought of a miscarriage.

Perhaps we've hoped and planned, planned and hoped.  Perhaps the dream was borne of necessity as was my friend's.

As we dare to dream, we are preparing to birth a new piece of our self.

Something wonderful is going to be.

But sometimes the dream dies.

And we are sad -- very sad.

Do we eventually make meaning of the experience, tell our story?

Yes.

Do we try to have another baby, dare again to dream?

Yes.

In the meantime, do we need to grieve?

Yes.

I'm trying to -- I hope you will too.

Related posts:
Morning sickness metaphor
Google lesson on dreams vs. expectations
Tell your story
Soundtrack story:  Career, motherhood and 9/11

The allure of the pom-pom

I sort of deserved it, but it stung nonetheless.

One of our vendors (I'm purposely being vague) recently invited me and several other clients to sit in their box at a Celtics game -- nope, not a championship game.

In making small talk, one of the fellows asked me if I were a hoops fan.  I could have given several different answers.  Like, Yes, I really enjoyed going to games when I was younger.  Or, No, not so much, but I've enjoyed seeing the Celtics' have a winning season.  Both answers would have been true.

Instead, I said, "Well, I WAS a cheerleader in high school".

To which he responded, "And, now you're a cheerleader over at Rose Park."

©iStockphoto.com/Jeremy Sterk

Weeks later, I'm still stung.

Was his comment inappropriate?

Yup.

But, given that 'it takes two to tango', and that this man's comment, albeit the most egregious over the past year, was not dissimilar to comments made by other folks, I have come to wonder if I bear some responsibility for this sort of riposte. 

I don't mean to imply that I didn't relish being a cheerleader because I did.  I spent many, many hours making up and perfecting cheers; I loved cheering for my high school.

Even today, I'm happiest when I'm cheering on my family and friends as they pursue their dreams.

But in my professional milieu, cheerleader isn't what I thought I was going for.

So why did I say what I said?

Because I must have meant it -- at least a little.

I want to be respected professionally, to have what I say and do be taken seriously.  To have gravitas.

I also want to be loved, adored, and cared for -- don't all girls?

And in a professional context, I just don't think you can have both.

So...

I've been asking myself ---

Am I going to grow up or not?

Throw down my pom-poms, as alluring as they are to hang on to?

Or get in the game?

©iStockphoto.com/Klaus Larsen

Have you read Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series?  Her books play perfectly into our desire to be loved, adored, cared for.  Which is why, in my opinion, they are so intoxicating -- I read the first three in a week.

Have you found yourself giving mixed messages?   As a professional, parent, spouse?  Why?

Have you ever become angered by a comment only to later realize that the person was merely reflecting back to you what you were emitting? 

Even as I write this, it feels that I am grappling for, or missing, something.  What are your thoughts?

Related posts:
Getting in the game
If you get defensive, you're getting close
It's just a game.  Precisely!
Et tu, Whitney?
The hazards of getting in the game

Enchanted anger

Were you surprised by the title of the above article?

Me neither.

We girls learn from a very young age that we shouldn't get angry.

But is it anger that we shouldn't do?

Or rage?

Rage is yelling at our child, maybe even hitting him, when he spills juice on a brand new carpet we can't afford to replace.

Rage is a mother sabotaging her daughter's attempts at life and love when she sees her daughter having opportunities the mother either didn't have, or gave up.

If we have reached the point of rage, but have managed to hold it in (because nice girls don't get angry), we just might be depressed: depression is rage turned inward.

Rage is about losing control, when we say things and do things that we will long regret.

So, rage is definitely out.

But anger?

Oh yes -- definitely in.

Anger tells us something is amiss, that something or someone (possibly our selves) needs to be attended to, that a boundary has been crossed.

Courtesy: istockphoto

Anger is locking ourself in the closet, calling our closest friend, and sobbing about the juice spill, knowing that our 2 year-old is safe because he is banging on the door as we speak.

Anger is recognizing that in any choice made there are trade-offs. That we may be angry with our daughter not because of her but because we have become so Martha-like, we've forgotten that we get to be Martha AND Mary.

When we acknowledge our anger, rage never happens.

There is a wonderful lesson about anger in the film Enchanted.

Innocent Princess Giselle is back-and-forthing with Patrick Dempsey's cynicism and the words, 'You....you....make me so angry', spill out. With this utterance, Princess Giselle has defined a boundary for her self, thus undergoing a rite of passage necessary to becoming more of who she is.

Has your anger recently helped you identify a boundary you didn't know you had?

When we become angry, are we not saying 'no', as Psyche was required to do in her 4th task?

The next time you become angry, will you pause and be grateful for the information your anger is giving you: about what matters to you, about how you want your life to unfold?

When we attend to the anger, what Giselle-like thing can happen in our life?

P.S. If you'd like to read more in praise of anger, there is a powerful essay titled 'Damning the River' in Rachel Naomi Remen's book Kitchen Table Wisdom.

P.P.S. If you ever have something you feel others would find helpful to hear, but tend to be a private person, just send to me your thoughts, and I'll post it as 'Whitney's friend who would like to remain anonymous"...

Related posts:
A down payment on our dream
The Myth of Psyche
Martha and Mary
When we say no
Dreaming or deflecting?