Every woman wants to feel safe to be themselves within a group of women; we secretly crave to have a deeper level of intimacy with each other. The Esoteric Women’s Health Well-being for Women group in Melbourne on Sunday 17th March offered just that – the topic discussed was anxiety and stress. Continue reading “Well-Being for Women Melbourne – the Impact of Anxiety and Stress “
Attending a women’s group has been a great support and valuable learning for me; it is something I cherish and look forward to. Just before the last women’s group, I came across some old notes that I had written from a women’s group a few years back. On the top of the page I had written a question: what does it feel like to be a successful woman? Continue reading “A Successful Woman”
Three days ago, I woke up with a frozen shoulder; I was unable to sleep the prior night or get out of bed. This has happened before, but this time, with the help of my amazing practitioner, Jenny Ellis, I really listened to the message being offered up. I came to understand the message along with fixing the actual physical pain. And this is what I discovered… Continue reading “A Frozen Shoulder: Thawing my Resistance to my Inner Quality”
What does the shelf mean to you?
For us it is the thing that has us in its grip from an early age as women. There is an unspoken contract that says that by a certain age we need to be partnered up and having babies.
It is so embedded in our societies that when we choose not to abide by these rules we are required to explain ourselves.
So who made the shelf and what keeps it on the wall? Continue reading “Women, Ageing and ‘the shelf’”
‘I am in a 60+ year old body and yes, it is starting to show signs of ageing, but the me inside this body feels sparklier and more vital than it ever has; regardless of what is going on physically – the connection to my inner self is deepening and expanding exponentially – I put this down to acceptance and appreciation of the innate qualities I have and express.’ ~ Judy
We have created such a weird construct in society in which we impose stops, negativity and ‘no gos’ on our natural cycles (ageing, menstruation, menopause, dying … to name a few) and this leaves us in a quandary and no man’s land in terms of our relationship with, and acceptance of, ourselves, our bodies and life.
Reading about other women’s experiences has helped me to learn about how women can support each other. This level of awareness has offered me the opportunity to appreciate the simplest of ways we as women can be there for each other. Recently, I witnessed such appreciation on a most practical level.
I was sitting in the waiting room of a Medical Centre on a Saturday afternoon filled with many ill patients waiting their turn to be seen by the doctors. I noticed that most of the patients were women sitting with their sick children for hours, way before I had arrived. The children looked tired and exhausted and the mothers were doing their best to support them as they waited patiently to be seen by the next available doctor. There was an urgency in the eyes of the various women and a sense of relief when their names were called out from the front desk.
During a shared walk, a friend of mine mentioned that her son had visited with his new partner the previous evening. They had chatted for a while before the couple left and my friend, much to her horror, recollected that all the while, she had found herself running an internal dialogue about the attributes, physical and otherwise, of the young woman.
My friend was deeply shocked and explained that she had found herself engaging thoughts such as “her chin is a bit saggy”, “her complexion is sallow”, “her hips are bigger than her breasts” and “she is shy”. From there she had jumped to her own physical attributes and had made self-directed and critical comments such as “I’ve never liked the size of my hips, they’ve been the bane of my life”, etc. etc.
Although it hasn’t always been this way …
Breasts. Even just saying this word conjures up so many feelings.
When I was young, intimate body parts like breasts were never discussed with family or friends. There was a slight air of embarrassment around it, and from this I interpreted that breasts were definitely something to hide and not talk about.
I grew up in a culture where a woman’s place really is in the kitchen (or the bedroom).
There are certain social, widely accepted ‘norms’ that must be followed: the man is the head, the bread winner, the tough iron shield of the family; the woman, the woman, as my male relative would put it is the “neck of the family, supporting the head in deciding the way forward”. But in truth, the neck is to very quietly express their opinion, and only where it suits the ideals of the men because at the end of the day, it’s the head that makes the decision.
When we look at ourselves in the mirror, what is the relationship we have with the image reflected back at us? How much do we appreciate ourselves?
A while ago I was in a shop trying on some clothes. The lady in the next cubicle came out looking stunning. She was trying on a beautiful dress – and her friend immediately expressed to her how gorgeous she looked. This lady did look gorgeous, and I could feel she loved the dress. The dress fitted beautifully and I could feel a grace in her quality as she stood in front of the mirror. It wasn’t that the dress made the woman into anything, it was that the woman in her beauty made the dress shine – she shone in the dress. I observed as the woman in the dress got distinctly more uncomfortable as she looked at herself in the mirror, and made some comments that picked fault in how it looked to her, and she decided not to buy the dress.