Gumbo’s fate

Eva,

I’m relieved that now you know the situation with Gumbo, which had been on my radar for long enough to stress me out.

The dream of Hybrasil House has always depended on spiritual cowgirls like you having their own place to park, so losing the RV has been a looming nightmare. (Plus, a 1960 Airstream?? She may be leaky & lacking amenities, but she’s SO cute…) And it’s about more than just the viability of HH; it’s also that I really love having YOU in my daily life and don’t feel ready for that to change! So I’m relieved to know that you’re still down for this wild experiment even if we have to let go of your living spot to my divorce.

I had dinner with an old friend last night and while telling her the timeline of my marriage falling apart, saw it for the first time as the hysterical misfortune it really is. And I mean “hysterical” in the dated clinical sense — that it really has been the unfolding of womb trauma.

I know that’s controversial, to validate the once-textbook claim that women can suffer from emotional disorders related to their uterus, but I actually think that’s a pretty feminist take — that our female parts aren’t only about baby production, but also possess senses, memory, and special needs. I’ve felt it true within myself and hear it all the time from clients, whether or not they’d describe it that way.

I thought to writing about this under my She Shed account rather than the Hybrasil blog for obvious reasons, but naturally there is no hard topical border between women’s issues with our bodies and the health of the village.

In fact, part of the dream of Hybrasil House was to have a common house where women can take space from their spheres of responsibility to rest, socialize, and if not ‘be served’, at least be treated as a guest rather than a hostess/manager. A place where we can feel off-duty, where we can reset that sense of vigilance and return to our respective homes recharged.

That is the medicine that can’t be legislated.

I think of course in terms of the postpartum experience, and wonder, how can I convey the importance of the mother’s social experience to the macro societal dynamic that has gotten so toxic?

It feels like as soon as you mention “motherhood”, people’s brains turn off — they just don’t see it as politically relevant. It’s a “women’s issue.” But when we’re dealing with polarizing ideologies, hate crimes, and culture clashes, we’re always dealing with human temperaments — what do we think shapes those, if not the emotional state of their initial caregiver?

It’s mothers who socialize the citizens, therefore mothers are the bedrock of society.

Motherhood is the font of patience and impatience, of tolerance and intolerance, of collaboration and bigotry.

To neglect the welfare of those people is to play dumb about how all this actually works.

Likewise, to prioritize the welfare of mothers is to escape “the patriarchy” not by overthrowing it, but by simply acknowledging that there always has and always will be something more powerful containing it, which simply needs meaningful investment.

Whether or not HH fails, I’m proud of us for putting what we have into such an investment.

From the shores of Lake Champlain,

Eliza