It’s that time again…the department of financial aid is being a super bitch (and an incompetent one at that), and I am struggling with my task of trusting the Universe. I’ve been doing an exceedingly good job and putting in the legwork that Ant reminds us we are responsible for. But I’m nearing the edge of my rope, and I can feel the pool of Kali’s wrath growing in the pit of my stomach and threatening to rise and rain fire on any incompetent financial aid employee who gives me an answer I don’t want to hear. At the same time, I hear my mother reminding me that this is the south, and I’ll get further by being sweet, patient, and kind – everything I am not feeling right now. Up until this point, I have been assured in the knowledge that somehow all of this will work out. I have no idea how – especially with the fear of the financial aid people telling me that because the semester is over, they can’t grant me the appeal I am in such desperate need of, and that, they’re sorry we had a misunderstanding that could result in extreme financial duress for me – but somehow, I am still clutching to the hope that it will. And in the mean time, I am planning on how best to save the money I have right now and wondering if I can live on all the food that is in my pantry for the next month if I only make the purchases of bread, milk, and maybe canned tomatoes. Tomorrow morning, I am going to get up at a ridiculous hour for being on vacation and I am going to trek down to the financial aid office and be there as soon as they open at 8am and I will not leave there without having this mess straightened out.
It has helped a great deal that for the past week while I have been away, I have been nurtured by family and that tomorrow, I will be driving myself and my cat to my parents’ house to be nurtured for an additional 4 days before returning. I think it speaks of the nature of our connectedness that being cared for and nurtured is so important to our wellbeing. The very act of nurturing is a validation in and of itself. It lets us know we are valued, cared for, important…to someone. Anyone. To the extreme, Gavin de Becker points out in The Gift of Fear that one common trait among a group of violent individuals he taught who had just gotten out of jail for their crimes is that they did not have that nurturing, that attention and validation in their lives growing up. Of course, numerous other factors enter into the equation to produce a violent individual, but I think the power of reaching out to someone, caring for them and, in doing so, validating their worth as a person is something we could do well to focus on.
Intrinsically connected, in my mind, with the idea of nurturing is that of the Mother. Foxchild over at The Unveiling of the Pagan Spirit has written recently that she views the archetype of the Mother as a primary archetype through which many others can be seen. While I can certainly acknowledge that she is right in her point of the Mother containing many sub-archetypes in her “job description”, there is something about placing such emphasis on only one role, important though it may be, that bothers me. It feels limiting. Almost as though one might not be able to understand each of those sub-archetypes as autonomous in and of themselves and recognize their full importance. In my mind, I see all of the archetypes as interconnected and working with and within each other harmoniously, each pieces of a whole. Integrated. And perhaps it is just jealousy on my part expressed because I do not identify for myself one primary archetype that feels all-encompassing or more significant than the rest, and it is a more concrete direction that seems to come with that identification for which I long. A sense of depth and significance that those women I know who have identified a primary archetype for themselves seem to feel.
As for me, when I start to realize this jealousy, this uncertainty or longing to be something…other, I step back into myself.
I am as I am.
I am content to be.