a red thread that binds us to the Mother….
What is sisterhood?
This is what it means to me:
I string beads, one bead after the other, and I observe them: this one is perfectly round, this one is darker than the other one, one is a little too small, one is very irregular, the hole of the next one is so small that the thread hardly passes through it, the last one is very long and it takes the space of three…
This is us, this is how we are, this is us women.
Each one in her figure, in her style, in her originality. All together we make movement, we create unity, we pluck up courage, we give each other strength and go along together. Women are always in a ferment, a world of bright colours, excessive at times, much chattering which becomes sharing, advice and teaching… inadvertently. And so we weave a web, form a thread, gather in a unity.
Do I like all these beads the same way?
Do I string them all, without rejecting any?
No. not at all. I would really be lying if I said so.
I cannot say that I get on well with all of them, and I don’t share any way of thinking and acting without objecting.
No: my neighbour is interfering and too nosy, my son’s teacher is conceited and arrogant, my mother is too cold and distant, my sister is thoroughly selfish…
But then there is also me… what am I like?
What do my neighbour and my sister consider me? Just the same.
As I consider them. We are all the same, each one of us. Never forget that we all smile the same way when we are happy, we sing and dance in the kitchen when we feel loved and no one sees us, and yes, we are all the same. When we feel abandoned, rejected, refused or not understood we all weep in the same way, crying on the pillow and putting on more make up the following day to disguise our eyes puffy with tears.
We share the same fears, rejoice over the same things and mourn the same losses.
Yes, all of us, also the ones we don’t like. Women are beautiful, sensitive, intuitive and instinctive.
We know that, but we are even more beautiful when we recognize one another, when we recognize our cyclicality, our rhythm, our moon. When we look at the woman next to us, immediately understand what she is living through and don’t judge her.
When I observe my bracelet, all this is clear to me and lives in me.
I am the central bead, I must love myself, I must take care of myself and give myself all the attentions I need to be happy. We are a leading wire, and the moon beats our time.
Our Mother, the Earth, fills and charges us, She gives us roots and balance and She reminds us of how many beads we are