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CLOUD WOMAN BLOG


Dying alone Her entire family expunged in the Balkan war, this dying grandmother in Travnik, Bosnia, dies alone as cockroaches and foul smells smother her bed.

We can't do it alone -- and why would we?

From Hillary Clinton to dying Bosnian grandmothers to Ugandan woman, female authority and wisdom suffocates outside solidarity.

Categorized in these topics: Economics Feminine Matrix and Female Culture Media Watch Refugees


It is when we are truly are alone that we understand we can’t do it alone. We learn to ask for others to bear witness to our lives; we call it “help.” Scientists call help and not being able to do it alone the field of relativity and quantum physics to make it appear more complex and fatten the lean disemboweled research.

Women on the frontlines of their realities call it change and interconnectivity.

Stolen copyrights taken from women’s wisdom and life experiences where change is known to rule our existence, rewriting her experience under a man’s name or mankind authorship suddenly becomes the intelligent authority.

“Clinton has been demonized by the press and the talking heads. How do you get away with that?” Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz, D-Fla., says she is regularly approached by women of all races, of all ages, of all faiths. They stop me, grab my hand and say, “Look what they’ve done to her, we were so close” They wanted this for their daughters and granddaughters. ... It’s so heartbreaking.” (Dionne, 2008 May 29)

Look at what they’ve done to her. This time let’s look at the Travnik grandmother dying from kidney disease alone in a dilapidated gymnasium. Her entire kinship relations were expunged during the Balkan war screamed supreme wisdom on how to die alone and a knowing we can’t do it alone. But she is now long dead and never became known as the intelligent authority-that is until now.

Many do not know of the late Marija Gimbutas’s phenomenon “something out of the ordinary” archeological excavations into the truth that included women were treated as dead material when she was alive by male archeologists such as Colin Renfrew. The exquisite archeological artifacts of the Goddess (Divine Feminine) in Marija Gimbutas’s hands and heart listing round bodied and fertile womanly figures to homes and hearths with round bellied stoves are still in the same form and shape for South Slavs in their homes.

Gimbutas, from Slavic Lithuanian origins, studied the Proto-Slavs to recognize the play of the linear academia segmented science especially their blind spot to the collective dynamics as she took on conservatorship of Balkan artifacts some four thousand years old.

South Slavs surviving a hundred years of war maintained the guardianship of the old ordinary traditions which Gimbutas named as “Old Europe” and translated the small acts into multi-dimensional books that are dedicated to the life process of the species: we cannot do it alone. That is what the wars taught them and they taught me.

The current diet of information if reviewed gets our attention because we sense the fragmented element or sliver of truth threaded in it. Subliminally women intuit the truth and apply it with a broad brush stroke to the rest of the message. One example is Gregg Braden, bestselling author of “Divine Matrix and the God Code.”

Regurgitations of what She knows and her female experiences are neatly coupled with scientific terms and with fine ability of a wordsmith such as Braden goes to great lengths and means to avoid the term “Divine Feminine.” Yet, his books are based on female humanities; the invisible sex is taken advantage of and never referred to (witness).

Isn’t it the same thing with treatment of Hillary Clinton’s run for the male only presidential ticket?

Quietly, the book “The Invisible Sex: Uncovering True Roles of Women in History,” by J.M. Adovasio and Olga Soffer sits. Female hands and minds unable to open Adovasio or Soffer’s book or to the possible situation that we cannot do it alone until we stop editing out our gender will never make the best seller list.

I am drawn to wonder about how many female authors who have written multi-dimensional books or those females who moved into a state of consciousness that bleeds the individual and collective community into solidarity, whether from archeological excavations to sacred searches for the truth of female realities are interned under the rubble of passive aggressions, women hating women-horizontal violence to overt violence towards the female sex.

We can’t do alone. Women are missing solidarity amongst their sisters and going for the brotherhood unity into many disguised seductive themes.

Women feel, males analyze women into paralysis. Perhaps, women are addicted to the paralysis to numb out the picture of their rotting foundations to serve and worship the masculine entities.

It is females who represent the broad spectrum of experience. From my work in Africa, Bosnia, India and Sri Lanka with females young and old, I was taught through their feelings. At times unbearable like a third degree burn where the nurse cleans their bandages, the multi-dimensional storied instructions taught me to understand the algorithmic for feelings: feelings= truth + beauty.

Truth of it is that it was not heart breaking but my heart breaking open.

Walking the killing fields of Africa such as Uganda where old women, whose families were killed off, starved or death by malaria lost their physical abilities to garden but entered a psychospiritual realm as they silently dropped lifeless to the earth.

No funeral pageantry or flamboyant obituaries sounded heralds of their demise. If I was not witnessing their realities, storied instructions of truth and beauty, I would not have known their deaths since they made no sound hitting the hard crusted earth. It was as if their female sex were invisible or simply erased from the human species.

Grappling with such displays of burn trauma painful storied instructions I realized those dropping weightless like flies, these Ugandan women, or for that matter Congolese women and Darfurian women /South Sudanese women not only lived their feelings and/or their beliefs but died their feelings.

Leaving with nothing except their skin and bones arriving in their skin and bones at birth completes Mother Nature’s ways: the essential language of quantum physics that catapults those who witness beyond the words on paper, perhaps into millennium old artifacts with a library shelf life much larger than books or current media.

Another Ugandan woman witnessing the old woman’s death as I did said something immediately after the old woman dropped to her death. Later I asked for translation. She asked: “how did she get us to gather here.” The Ugandan woman was asking and defining solidarity and how we cannot die alone nor do it alone.

The incredibly rich resources about including the female sex are set upon how women need to expand and explore their flexibility, adaptability and changeability other than through surviving violence, sexism, and gender issues.

Perhaps, Hillary Clinton’s arduous campaign a perinatal (from 5 months before birth to 1 month after) journey to the male bastion of power takes invisible women to visibility offering us an opportunity for solidarity.

The same solidarity I glimpsed under the thick Mango trees in Northern Uganda with a knot, a kolo (circle, dance in Serbo-Croatian) of women moving me to talk with them. Once the Ugandan women about forty of them and myself entered under the boughs of the thick leaves that shielded us from the blazing African sun, we were held speechless as a few hundred beautiful white doves dove, flew and nestled nosily into the branches above our heads.

Our necks hung backward with our mouths agape our eyes on the white bodied doves in startling contrast to the rich dark green leaves- the leader of the Ugandan woman proudly pronounced, “ok we are all here now.”

Dionne, E. (2008 May 29). Clinton and the Rage of Women. Washington Post e-mail address is postchat(at)aol.com.



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