Mapping The Human Story

“It is very exciting to be alive right now and bearing witness to this.”

This meant the shift in world leadership–from power structures to a collaborative model, largely a feminine one (by feminine I don’t mean female). These words came from Elizabeth Kapu’uwailani Lindsey, a woman on a Women’s Leadership panel broadcasted from the Bioneers Conference in California. She is a cultural anthropologist who is traveling the globe connecting with Elders to gather and thereby preserve stories and teachings–to ultimately bridge cultures. It’s all better explained on Mapping The Human Story. It’s amazing.

The other remarkable women sharing voice on the panel (Nina Simons, Gloria Feldt, Joan Blades and Akaya Windwood) batted around discussion about women redefining power on their own terms–the “power to” versus the “power over,” that power is actually, turns out, an infinite resource, that mothers should not be earning .60 to the $1 of men who are equally qualified and MomsRising.org is doing something about it, that it is time to take ownership of the incredible power women naturally wield, that women can discard the “we are weaker” story construct that raised them.

I absorbed it all, but focused my attention on Elizabeth Lindsey. I am in awe of her work. Watching her navigate the panel made me even more so. She talked slowly, even pausing deliberately for about three seconds at the end of sentence before continuing. She talked passionately. She was elegant. She was not desperate to voice herself or sell her vision. Unlike the other women, she seemed unaffected by the American city mentality that unless you speak your concise personal tag line fast enough, you will be passed over and ignored. She mostly listened to others, really listened with curiosity, not the kind of listening that involves planning how you are going to respond to what you are hearing. She sat like she carried the diverse stories of the world. She was not trying to prove herself.

Not one breath was a breath of self-importance.

Here was wisdom.

Here was leadership.

At the very end, Akaya Winwood redirected the conversation: “I want to hear from our sister Elizabeth who has been out to the reaches of the world.”

Elizabeth smiled.

Without a hint of judgment, she offered:
“What I’m hearing around this table is a very Western story….”

Patterns

I went to high school in central Florida. We lived in a housing development so close to Disney World I could hear the Magic Kingdom fireworks go off at 10pm every night. It was a lonely, faceless neighborhood.

BUT, look at these Florida housing developments from above? Beautiful, no?

What do you see in these patterns? (centipedes, wind mills, wheels…)

Many more fascinating photos here.


The Foot

I inherited my father’s feet–flat as a pancake. I always knew this about myself. But the fact resurfaced when I started daily yoga classes and my teacher said, “Girl, that is your homework. Lift those fallen arches.” Now I do every asana with my toes lifted because that action engages my arch. I stand in the shower with my toes lifted. I sit at this computer, lift my toes and press my big toe mound down. Ten months later I’m starting to see the muscle of my arch lift … slowly.

How had I (a person teased for being too body-aware) forgotten this place on my body? For 31-years I have crawled and walked all over the world and never once thought about toning my arch. 

Our feet are our foundation. They get us to where we are going. As the author of Born To Run explains, our arch is like a stone bridge. It doesn’t need a support (i.e. orthotic) beneath it. It needs to rely instead on the potential strength of its beautiful architecture. But this workhorse–the foot–seems forgotten by most non-athlete modern people.

Like a country backwater, the foot is the least “glamorous” place. We pay little attention to it because it is not directly responsible for things like procreation. That’s the role of eyes, lips, sex organs, chest, hips, butt, legs. People aren’t checking out each other’s feet.

Feet rarely provoke reverence.

It is bad manners to step on entrance of a Mongolian yurt; Jesus washed his disciples feet as a humbling gesture; many women sacrifice the health of their feet by cramming them into a pair of high heels which tilts them forward into an anatomically sexy position; before entering a Mosque or Buddhist temple, you remove your shoes; Pearl S. Buck’s main Chinese character in The Good Earth admits his disappointment at being matched with a wife whose feet had not been bound.

One exception: Chinese medicine, where the foot, like the ear, maps the entire body.

If we look at body as landscape, everything depends on our feet.

What are other forgotten places?

The Flat Earth Theory

No, don’t conjure up Thomas Friedman and all that earth-is-flat talk. I’m referring to Jeanette Winterson, a British writer I discovered in college. She mixes intellect with whimsy and did so in her book, Sexing the Cherry, 1998, where the excerpt “The Flat Earth Theory” lives. I encountered it not in the book, but at my friend Laurie’s house in St. Paul, Minnesota. Someone had printed it on a card and framed it for her, as a gift. Laurie is a conversation biologist who studies the halibut fishery on Kodiak Island, Alaska. Of course, this means that she spends a lot of time tooling around in boats, learning about place maps, and living with people whose families have fished those waters for eons.

The Flat Earth Theory, Jeanette Winterson

The earth is round and flat at the same time.  This is obvious.
That it is round appears indisputable; that it is flat is our
common experience, also indisputable.  The globe does not
supersede the map; the map does not distort the globe.

Maps are magic.  In the bottom corner are whales; at the
top, cormorants carrying pop-eyed fish.  In between is a subjective
account of the lie of the land.  Rough shapes of countries that
may or may not exist, broken red lines that are at best hazardous,
at worst already gone.  Maps are constantly being re-made as
knowledge appears to increase.  But is knowledge increasing or
is detail accumulating? Continue reading