My Thoughts

I have just finished reading the book, Now Is The Time To Open Your Heart and as I was saying this morning, the book has given me much to think about. I thought about it all day long while my grandson was here and since one of the themes of the book is The Grandmother, that was appropriate.

The book, for me, was one of those books which you just read at the right time. Things you've been struggling with or doubting or contemplating are presented in another light by someone who writes well, whom you respect, whose story is perhaps different from yours but is connected to yours. And suddenly, you see your own story, your own life, in a different light.
That's what happened to me here. I don't want to do a book review but I'll say that the thinly disguised fictional character, Kate, in this book is a woman in her fifties who is struggling with aging and is wondering what her life means, what her very worth is, as she ages. She dreams of dry river beds, she goes to therapy, she has a younger lover whom she adores but after several failed marriages she does not care or dare to accept him fully into her heart even though she has taken him into her bed. She feels that her life may be at the end of its time, at the end of its usefulness. She fears that we have already damaged the planet to the extent where it can no longer support life.

She searches for answers. She goes to Buddhist retreats, she goes on a white-water rafting trip down the Colorado River to try and figure out her dreams. And finally, she begins a journey with what she calls the Grandmother Vine, the South American medicinal and hallucinogenic plant known as ayahuasca or yaje. She travels with the Grandmother first in the United States and then in South America.
While she searches for answers her man friend goes on vacation in Hawaii and finds, without even searching, answers to questions he has had.

The book is not perfect. I found some of it to be trite. Ms. Walker depends heavily on the religions of indigenous peoples for answers but she is also funny and she is also honest. And I can forgive a lot if humor is involved and as I listened to Alfre Woodward's voice reading the words which Alice Walker had written, I was struck over and over by the things the author has found to be truths which are things which I have accepted into my life and which, listening to, have given me more respect for myself. Especially now, as I age and have found myself wondering if living past middle age is really worth it. Not that I've contemplated suicide- it's just- sometimes in this culture of ours, one can be made to feel worthless as the body changes into something no one seems to honor, as one's value as a sexual being fades, as one's desires and needs become simpler and simpler to the point where watching birds is not only enjoyable but actually exciting and where the tiniest blossoms of a plant one has started from a leaf are a miracle.

I mean- look at me! Here I am on these two little acres and I take pictures of this tiny life and I write about it over and over and over again and for what purpose? What purpose does my writing serve? What purpose do I serve now that my children are raised?

And then came Owen and as I became more a part of his life it has become apparent and completely obvious to me that as his grandmother, I will play a role in his life that no one else can. Not even his other grandmother. She will play her role and it is as important as mine but it is not the same as mine. And it seems to me that when a love can blossom and be as intense and straightforward as my mine is for Owen and as his seems to be becoming for me, there must be an evolutionary reason and I have decided that certainly there is.

The parents have so many roles in a child's life. They must provide food and shelter and discipline and clothing and formal schooling but really, all that a grandparent MUST provide is love, pure and simple. And I think of how much I love that boy and how even if I died tomorrow, there would be some part of him which would know that for awhile he was loved absolutely without boundaries. That he is safe with me because there is nothing I expect of him but that he is exactly who he is.

Isn't this how we all want to be loved?

And this is what Alice Walker talked about in the book. About how this time of life can be the time when we, as women especially, can fully open our hearts. And that it is the grandmothers who will be the ones to protect the young, protect the planet. That if the planet can be saved, it will be the grandmothers who do it.
I find this interesting because I wrote a post a long time ago about letting the midwives have a go at ruling the world, figuring out the problems.
Walker talked about how different it would be if our foreign policy was to try to ensure joy, not to inflict death. And I think that's what I was talking about too.

I think this book gave me confidence in myself and in the life I lead. That my feelings of being unimportant and of no use anymore which have become replaced with a new and growing respect for my role as a grandmother, as a caretaker, as a writer who writes about dirt and growing things and birds and dreams and hearts and love (especially love!) are correct. For me, at least.

I do not think I need to drink the Grandmother Vine. I could be wrong. I did hallucinogens when I was young and in them I learned so much. I'm just going to say that flat out. I believe that I mostly used them in a correct and respectful way and I feel so lucky for that. I think these substances have been here forever and can be powerful tools for helping us understand what is real and what is true.

This could be one of the reasons I have no use for formal religion. Following the rules of a jealous god has no place in my life, nor does it in Alice Walker's life, I would think after reading this book. I would rather open my heart wide open and follow what flows out of that, instructs me in however many years I have left here. That to embrace who and what I am fully and without the self-doubt I have had my entire life may now, in fact, be possible. And that to write about this may all be important too.

As Walker said in one part of the book, why should we not be afraid of aging? There have been so few examples of it portrayed for us, honestly and fully. That we are taught to dye our hair and do something about our wrinkles and to try and be eternally youthful but honestly- that's not even possible and and why should it be?

I am a grandmother. I will admit that even a year ago the thought of this was confusing to me, at best. What did that mean? The image I had of a grandmother was not so flattering. The image of being a crone was terrifying. A crone?
And yet, here I am, speeding down the road to cronehood, my grandson in my arms, and I couldn't be happier. I don't have to protect my heart against the sort of loss I was afraid of before. There will be loss in my life- great losses and I do not look forward to that but the loss of my youth, of my looks, of my usefulness- I am learning not to fear those.
And I realize that yes, I do have some wisdom in this body, in this mind. And I can share it. We women NEED to share what we know, what we have learned whether we are grandmothers or not. In a sense, we are all grandmothers, even those of us who never had children, because we have so much to pass on, we have so much love to give, even if we are deeply imperfect which I know I am.

One more thing- before Owen was born and up until recently, I have worried about what I should try to get him to call me. And I have found myself constantly referring to myself to him as simply "grandmother." I don't want a cute name or a diminutive which doesn't make me sound as old as I am, which denies the thing which I am, which is, truthfully, a grandmother with all that name implies. I know that he will come up with his own form of the word and whatever he calls me, that is who I am and who I will be but he and I will both know that in truth, I am the mother of his mother. I am his grandmother. And I take that name on with great humbleness and it is an honor I could never have imagined to be called that.

And those are some of the things which reading this book has given me to ponder and to realize and I am grateful to have read it and grateful to realize that the things my heart has been telling me are some of the same things Alice Walker's heart has been telling her.

I am a grandmother. I have a role to play in this world and it may, in fact, be one of the most important roles there can be, not just on a personal level, but on a global one, and a spiritual one too. Even as I stay here on this piece of ground I am so blessed to caretake for this portion of my life.
Even and perhaps, especially.

And I promise I will keep my sense of humor about it. And try to be as honest as I can. I can be a sort of Grandmother Vine myself. I will not make you vomit or have diarrhea but I will tell you the truth as I see it and you don't even have to travel to the Amazon to experience it. All of us can be Grandmother Vines and isn't that a bit of what this blogworld is about?

I think so.

Let's let our hearts be as fully open as we can and let us share all of that which spills forth. You and me and all of us. Men and women, the young ones and the old.
Tell me your dreams of rivers full and dry. Tell me your pains of birth and of aging. Tell me your stories and I will tell you mine.
And together- we are something and our stories are amazing and let us love each other as grandmothers love their children.

And let us honor ourselves and I would like to honor Alice Walker and thank her for writing this book which is reminding me of who I am and who I have been and who I am yet to become.