I’m on this planet to act, not be acted upon and that’s not selfish. It’s what we all need to do; act on behalf of ourselves in our own lives so we can unconditionally give to one another.
Remember diagraming those sentences in school? Subject, verb, object. “What is the subject of the sentence and how does it act (the verb) on the object?”
There is much hoopla made of women being sexually objectified but when these issues come up, I always try to think about it intuitionally as well as rationally because it’s so easy to stereotype based on gender.
It is widely observed that males do tend to be the subject of most movies, books, sporting events, commercials, anchors on the news, utility companies, Presidents, and CEOs. The male perception of things does, in fact, run the planet. That’s patriarchy.
But does that mean that men are never objectified? Think about the system of patriarchy a second. Patriarchy is about usage and consumption. It’s about money, power, death, and oppression, control and victory at any cost. There isn’t much good about it. I’d say there is nothing good about it. In a system such as that, militarism, monetary debt, toxic waste, pathological lying, corrupt government leaders and religion are rife. It doesn’t do much good on the planet. But both women and men shore up patriarchy by accepting their roles of subject-object and rarely reversing them. They could reverse them, or in a loving partnership, both of them are subjects and never objects. So, in that scenario, isn’t it reasonable to assume that:
“Patriarchy eats everything”; Subject/verb/object. Men are consumed as well by the monster. They, in turn, are taught and expected to consume woman.
No one escapes and no one wins really. That means men are objectified too by the system as being set up over and over again as the subject of every last, damn, thing. They are, after all, most of the millions dead from two World Wars. Just watch TV with pen and paper and make two columns Male/Female and make a vertical slash every time you see a woman, every time you see a man and watch the men’s column pile up. That’s not a good thing for men or for women. It’s unbalanced! I personally wouldn’t want all that focus. It’s too much pressure.
When women are portrayed on TV they are rarely if ever portrayed as subjects or the ones acting first in the sentence. If they are it’s as a conniving wench, a bitch, a sweet mother or a nurse. Patriarchy doesn’t allow for women to be portrayed as a strong subject; a female lead. Hillary Clinton did that and she was crucified. The message, “Women, don’t ever try to be the subject of the sentence in the United States of America.”
I’ve had too many men say to me, “You just want attention.” My response, “No, I’d just like to be the subject, not the object being acted upon by you most of the time.” But somehow, I doubt most women even know they’re the object being acted upon. They take it for granted that it is their role because they follow system dictates unconsciously. The media and the church do the brainwashing.
For the first time in my life, living in the house I own, I am the subject of my own life and I am able to give focus and make each of my patients that come here the subject in my office. I started out my physical life as a child being extremely objectified by my parents, then school, then college, then my parents literally threw me to a Chicago curb when I was eighteen like so much garbage, then men, on and on for half of my life. Women are not seen or known or even wanting to be known by anyone as people! But are men either? They have that subject role to carry around all the time like a rock in a backpack. Not even our other women friends who are too busy being objectified by their families that define them, want to spend time with me.
Well, in my house, “The patient receives therapy from me.” Subject/verb/object. I guess I’m a pronoun in my office. That’s just fine because I’m the subject of my life for the rest of the time because I have important work to do and I’m doing it.
“Healer” is also Still Available on Amazon. Just search on Lisa K. Townsend
Healers work hard to heal themselves with some help from others or through meditation; they don’t heal others. I am a therapist that can get you aligned and educate you about what you can do for yourself but I never encourage dependency because you can heal yourself.
Healers are authentic, living examples of how we can step out of our subconscious imprinting from parents, family, society, and provincial upbringing to create our conscious mind and live a truly free life of our choosing. Free Will is Universal Law and the foundation of our government in the U.S.
We also know how to access the information in our unconscious mind through the dream state. The unconscious mind transcends the intellect, brings forward intuition and allows it to MANIFEST in physical! The information in the dream state, where there is no thinking, is available to everyone.
I obscure my darkness to walk through life content, shadow feelings under the bed.
Convoluted darkness just below my navel only, my prescient dreams adumbrate what my body holds in, refusing to release its undulating grasp like a cranky child crying, needing attention and touch.
Male progenitor, emotional vampire and…ironically, my ally as a bridge to freedom in the face of neglectful, unfeeling, autocratic child-bearer.
Tremulous adolescence, when the course succor so needed is vacuous at best,
Cynical vexation felt so keenly in their insensitivity to my easily affected, young, psychic heart. They didn’t even know what the fuck psychic was because it wasn’t in the bible.
What could I have been?
What happy life could I have had if their crispy, mucous eyes had been open a crack?
That shadow feeling could spiral me down so quickly if I focused on it, so I only do it here
for release…because it’s bullshit, and my life is not bullshit, so I’m not filling it with that.
What is more helical bullshit that parental ignorance with an innocent, lovely child born in light and returning to light?
How twisted and contorted can adults get following societies rules, books, beliefs, and materialistic hysteria when they have in front of them a free soul, their child, needing only love by degrees, free roam by yards, food by weight and expression without limit?
The shadow of light is a contrast as a lesson
I’m using it to soar to the heights,
To rip asunder familial right to the soul of a child.
Whether in love or delusion
each child belongs to themselves only.
Just as roots do not dictate how far, wide and what direction a tree will grow,
so too, shadow roots deep below the ground only hold it in place while the wind, sky, and sun call us ever higher to dance with all of life above ground, storm and calm, for as long as we wish to live.
I hail from you but I am not you.
Feb. 8, 2017, Yellow 13 Warrior
The sky is much grayer lack of light and still prayer.
Tree bark darker wet mud dragged upstairs.
No grayer will be in that Michigan sky, mournful woes sad goodbyes.
Sad goodbyes to the bright sun that shocks eyes in May,
It appears a huge orb high in the sky.
We say “What’s that big orange disc by day?”
Who hides behind clouds that we hate.
Oh please dear sun, we beg for your warmth,
We can’t take one more grate of this fate.
My son says, “I don’t know what is better, gray sky or the snow?”,
His smug face looks at me with a smirk.
He’s eighteen and he’s jibbing his mother so low
But he’s serious, he prefers this to hurt,
The hurt of the sun burning down on his face shining wonderful light in his eyes
He was born in a snowbank at the end of this month
Eighteen short years as I rank.
I’ll forgive him this time as there won’t be much more
Of his smart-alec ways to imbibe
He’s going away, out my front door
And that’s when my heart may just die.
Jan. 30, 2017
He went from twenty inches long to 70 inches long. Something or someone pulled him into this big, strapping, broad-shouldered, sweet, brilliant man.
Well, legally he’s a man, but now he needs to launch out into this crazy mess of humans bumping around, unaware of how their thoughts and feelings create their life. He is a calm, kind soul so he won’t be skinning anyone alive, but he does tend to be honest in a very charitable manner so most people won’t get off scot-free from his observations.
The day of your birth, a crisp, cold, crystal day
In my memory, eighteen years ago holds sway
Who do I value most of all?
It’s you my son so big and tall
May your life have adventures that take your breath
May you jump in feet first, unafraid of death
I know that’s odd for a mother to say
But my son has seen death like it’s yesterday
His father is gone, a year ago now
He loved our son dearly at his final bow
I’ve held the ship level as best I can
Mostly alone with some helping hand
The men do die, often you know
The woman on her own in the ice and snow
Remember that sometimes people need help
A hand or two is all when they yelp
Just as we have done in these last two years
Keep your friends close as you move through the tears
But there’s fun to be had, plenty of that
As you move around life from the last place you sat
Run the race strong, keep your head up son
And be a good friend ’til your Earth life is done.