I have been incubating a new batch of chicken eggs for a spring hatch. They are being automatically turned and kept warm in a plastic, electric box, temperature and humidity controlled for the 21 or so days until they are ready to hatch.
Even with the proper physical macroscopic environmental conditions, it’s no substitute for a mother hen, with her warmth, movement, cooing & talking, and the electric and emotional fields generated by her body. So today, as I candled the eggs to see how they are developing, I held each one to my heart for at least 12 beats, to embody them in my toric heart field, and give them a small sense of being next to their mother.
It was at this time that I realized I was truly mothering them, calling forth a nurturing part of myself. I’ve gotten practice at this nurturing by doing a good deal of healing work with my inner child in the last decade, so it felt somewhat natural.
But that wasn’t the case for most of my life. I did not have many women in my upbringing who were often in their naturally feminine, receptive, yin field. My family of origin (on both sides) produced the “tough broad” archetypal woman; ones for whom it was not safe for them to express their true femininity. This has had a manifold impact on me. The most profound impact is that my comfort zone and model for a future mate (which is formed early in our childhood, and is based on behaviors that our opposite sex parent or guardian modeled) was incongruent with that which I actually needed and deeply craved (and still do).
This has left me utterly entranced and awestruck by women who exhibit their true femininity, almost to an unnatural (or alien) degree. I imagine I am not the only man who has experienced this. This is exactly where my personal work lies.
Everything in Nature seeks balance, and the morphogenetic fields, subatomic particles and molecules of which I am made are no exception. The Universe has provided and continues to provide abundant opportunities and experiences for my soul to achieve this balance. Some examples and experiences which have helped me gain this insight:
- fascination with women who are great-grandmothers. I plan to write a book on this subject, with four such women I have known.
- being drawn to feminine energies (earth, soil, water) and activities like gardening and cooking.
- having to take care of my elderly blind cat. Not being a parent, this is the closest thing I can relate to caring for a vulnerable helpless child.
I am grateful for these opportunities and how they have shaped my journey and allowed me to “turn poison into medicine” as some Buddhists say. However, none of these are a substitute for what Nature, my nature, craves: a relationship with feminine-embodied woman.
This insight is both liberating and deeply sad. It is freeing because I have finally brought this awareness to my conscious mind, and can therefore seek the balance in more direct ways (i.e. in a mate relationship). I no longer have to feel unconsciously attracted to women who don’t complement me (and for whom I don’t complement their energetic needs) based on my past history. I can finally embrace this long dormant part of myself and let my natural attraction guide me to the right partner, and no longer feel unworthy or even ashamed (as I was, as subtly as it was dealt in my family of origin) to express my true healthy yang maleness. I am wired such that I know that my sense of awe at this yin magnificence won’t ever diminish. If I can share such natural polarity with a partner, we will both be far more fulfilled in life.
There is also much to grieve. The fact that my ancestral mothers and grandmothers couldn’t express their true natures is deeply saddening. And so is the fact that just about every aspect of our “culture” suppresses, uses or abuses this feminine nature, scorching the earth with unchecked, unbalanced yang energy.
It is sad that most men (and women) suffer from this imbalance but seek to soothe themselves in the myriad destructive ways our “culture” offers. Substance abuse and addictions to destructive activities and processes can only provide short-lived relief and diminishing returns from this existential longing. Like polluted soil, this is not where true spiritual growth can flourish.
Finally, I grieve the fact that it has taken me a half-century to truly understand myself enough to know what I need, beyond typical “breeding age” customary to us in this age.
My work is to grieve this, integrate it into my being (instead of keeping it out in the shadows) and then to return to the ever-presencing question. “Now, how shall I proceed?”