Proud to be Brit

This morning started out like any other day. My alarm kept snoozing until I made the Herculean effort to get up. I felt tired and left over work issues from yesterday were still dancing inside my head. I got ready automatically and put on a dress I haven't worn the whole summer just because it cried out to be worn. But it wasn't appropriate. It was a 50's flared blue-flowered dress which felt a bit too much. So I put on a different dress, which was so tight it didn't let me breathe. I wondered if I had put on weight or has it always been so tight?... Nevermind, I was out of the house and on my way to Bromley Town Hall.

I didn't have my Home Office letter with me but they let me join the Ceremony anyway and I would have to come back with the letter to get my certificate. I was a bit annoyed with myself for forgetting but soon all of my thoughts dissipated. I was fully present in that velvety town hall room, with the Queen's portrait reigning over and the proud British flag. And I was happy.

I thought I had this under control but I found myself crying during the national anthem. I think I was the only one who chocked on the words, because to me this signified the end of a journey and the beginning of another. I figured I had earned my citizenship because I gave it my all. I spent many years in the UK and UK has been both tough and kind. Britain has been the place where I really grew up, where I discovered who I am, where I found out I have a Fighter in me, the place were I found out the tiny little Dreamer in me was free to dream too.

I was crying during the national anthem because I realised that it wasn't until I really wanted to be a Brit that I became one.

Long live the Queen! 

The spiritual practice of love

When I first started to work on my love book I had absolutely no idea that dating could be spiritual practice.I thought the pursuit of romantic love was just about me getting what I wanted: a post-card perfect relationship!

Like yoga, or meditation, dating takes discipline, strenght and determination. It takes discipline of the mind not to let every dating disaster turn into yet another self-pitying exercise. It takes strength to only follow the heart's path and not to let yourself believe the same stories your mind has been telling you for eons. It takes determination to see only the good in people, to see through their act, to catch a glimpse of their vulnerability and to whisper in their ear: 'I know you're only acting this way because you're afraid. I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to tell you that it's ok, there is a better way to live and I trust you will find it.'

But like any spiritual practice it's hard. I sometimes get annoyed with people.

Sometimes it's the people on the tube who are blocking the access to the gates or the escalators. I roll my eyes and say 'For fuck's sake...!' but then I immediately stop myself. What am I doing? I'm not this person. I'm not this angry person who's in a hurry to get somewhere, that's just a left over reaction from the person I used to be. And then I feel bad about it and to resolve it I decide to exaggerate and make fun of my reaction and I allow myself to scream and shout at them as much as I want in my head until I am at peace. I know my anger is not justified but I let it manifest until it rings stupid and and then I can let go of it.

I do the same with guys that piss me off. And there have been many who pissed me off. For leading me on, for over promising and under delivering, for standing me up, for wasting my time, for being too forward, or too shy, too keen or not keen enough, you name it! And I used to call them names during conversations with girlfriends (they are usually 'idiots' and 'dicks') as a way to vent my frustration and I thought that's ok because we all do it. No, it's not ok, because whatever energy we invest in every relationship it's just going to come back to us packaged in exactly the same way. More 'idiots' and 'dicks' until we learn the lesson.

So now when I feel anger bottling up, I try to imagine 'the dick' as somebody's son and somebody's brother, to focus on his humanity rather than on his lack of honesty. We all just see life from different angles and a dick is only a dick if I think he is. And until I learn to cut people some slack I doubt I'd see real love even if it hit me in the face.

And lastly dating is spiritual practice because people we meet don't tick all our boxes. Or even if they do at first, sooner or later cracks will start showing up and ruin their perfect image. And when they don't tick some boxes we need to open our eyes and see beyond those boxes. To see true value where it is and to learn little by little to like the things we don't like about the people we meet. To treat them with wabi-sabi love, which is a Japanese aesthetic centered on the acceptance of transcience and imperfection. We live in a society which dwells too much on perfection (forever unattainable) in a never ending pursuit for something we can only imagine to one day achieve. But realising that imperfection is what we should really be after, is a blessing still camouflaged to many.

And that's why dating is spiritual practice. Because it's not a matter of you versus me, but a matter of me versus me. And that's the kind of battle I find most difficult to fight...

Male pregnancy - yay or nay?

 

A few weeks ago I went on  a date with a guy who had an almost disturbing preference for conspiracy theories and pretty radical opinions. I think he had a bit of vagina envy when he mentioned at some point he was annoyed with women for not realising their potential and for spending more energy on choosing lipstick colours then on getting equal pay.

'That's right, you women have so many gifts you're not even grateful for. Like giving birth! I'd love to be able to give birth' he said.

No, I do enjoy weird conversations and I didn't think too much about it until this morning on the tube when I saw something which I initially thought must have been an optical illusion. You know, like when you stare too long at a striped pattern until the lines get blurred and you feel like your vision has been tempered with and you may never be able to look at stripes again. At Leicester Square a man wearing a striped top (go figure!), a 'beer belly' (or so I thought) and a 'Baby on Board' badge (WTF!?) got on and a guy to my left immediately and politely (or frightened) gave up his seat. I probably would have been oblivious to the whole thing if I hadn't seen the guy who gave up his seat going all the way to the other end of the carriage as if he's seen the devil incarnated.

The 'pregnant man' was to my left a couple of seats away and I couldn't quite see his face (at this point I was still unsure whether what I saw was true or the result of staring at his striped top) l so I decided to study the faces of the people in front of me and see if I notice anything suspicious. They all looked composed but there was something on their faces I can't quite describe in a word. Something along the lines of 'Ok, we're all cool with gay people getting married and all but pregnant men, well, that's a step too far. But I'll keep my cool because I don't want to be judged as judgemental!' And I think my face must have had the same look on it and when I realised that, I decided to change my attitude. He got off at the next stop, just as I was gathering courage to go and ask him if he was a man. Just like children do. And this is how my hypothetical conversation with the pregnant man would go:

'Excuse me, but are you a man?'

'Yes, dear. I am.'

'And you are pregnant?'

'Yep!' he would say with a smile.

'Umm, and how did you get pregnant?'

'Well, there is something called IVF which has been developed for men. They induced an ectopic pregnancy by implanting an embryo and placenta into my abdominal cavity, just under the peritoneum.'

'Wow, and does it hurt. You know, to have a baby growing inside?'

'Well, it doesn't hurt. But it does feel weird. And it does tickle me and it moves a lot. And I have troubles sleeping but otherwise my pregnancy is normal.'

'And how will you give birth?'

'There's only one way I can do it, by C section. They'll have to remove the placenta too which is quite dangerous as it can cause hemorrhage.  Implantation may have also involved other structures in the abdomen, including the bowel and it is possible that parts of other organs may need to be removed but hey ho.'

'Wow. I must admire your courage.'

'Women put their lives in danger with every pregnancy so I'm not expecting is to be easier for men.'

'Very well said. Oh well, here's my stop! Good luck with your pregnancy.'

This may be an imaginary conversation but all this above is true. Male pregnancy is being tested. As we speak Mr. Lee Mingwei, a rather well know American artist, is very much pregnant and being monitored during his gestation period, as part of male pregnancy research. You can read all about it here and keep up to date with his pregnancy journal.


I must confess I'm not too sure what to think about it all. I mean, we live in a very gender confused society where the division between men and women is slowly disappearing. Women have been accused of trying to become men. "Men have always been afraid that women could get along without them." others (Margaret Mead) say.

But others are celebrating this imminent possibility. Let them share the burden, women say. We want to know how it feels to bring life onto this planet, men say. Is this right or is this wrong?... What do you think?


Have we tried too hard too become men so that now men are trying to become women?