Hey beautiful
How clever is this Invisible Women book cover???? I only noticed this morning that there are in fact visible female icons on it – had to look at it in just the right light and angle.
Once seen, they cannot be unseen.
In perceiving the Invisible Woman, there is something essential about looking away from the hi-viz visible – the drama, the busyness – towards whatever else is out there.
Lo res sensitivity. Calm, quiet, stillness. Reliability. Taken for granted.
Reframing that.
And noticing how we feel in relationship with what has previously been not noticed.
For some of us, the process can shift very quickly from
Ooh! That’s so cool!
To
Oh! How could I be so blind/stupid to not see it before?
We must remember to breathe and be very kind to ourselves in that second moment, holding that second thought at arms length.
There is an invitation here to reframe reflexive self critical ableism into genuine curiosity
How have I been blinded so I was unable to see?
(Amazing grace….)
Some of the perception limit is simply human. Our capacities are very finite, each of us in unique, personal ways.
Some of the perception limiting is learned/conditioned behaviour.
Either way, we can grow beyond our individual and collective perceptive limitations through sharing our discoveries with trusted others.
Which reminds me of a meme thing I saw recently expressing nostalgia for moments/people who would say “Look at this cool rock I found!”
So I invite you back into the innocence and enthusiasm of discovery – as both finder and audience. Learning together.
Because I know that you are finding out, thinking of new things all the time.
Not necessarily concrete things like rocks and flowers and fungi (lol, guilty of getting very excited and possibly oversharing about all those things myself) but also more subtle, self perception insights.
I’d love to hear about some of them – visible or invisible, as you’re willing to share.
And no time pressure – this is a standing invitation. Simply next time you notice, or remember an “oh that’s so cool” type moment and wonder who, if anyone, would be interested to know – I’m here.
Last week I promised a memoir of self love and pancakes, which turns out to be also a story of discovering a couple of very cool nuggets of information..
The Pancake Manor in Brisbane CBD has barely changed in more than forty years, a seemingly timeless institution. It’s in an old dark brick building, with a very high wood beamed ceiling, at one time St Luke’s Catholic Church. The short stack with whipped cream and Pancake special maple (flavoured?!) syrup is a staple, on the menu since 1979, and what I ordered there as an angsty schoolgirl in the 1980’s.
I visited again recently on a whim, after attending the No More Violence Against Women protest rally and march. I ordered the same short stack of my youth. I couldn’t tell if the pancakes were smaller, but they still filled my belly slightly uncomfortably, just as I remembered them.
I was actually alone on this occasion, which I don’t think I would have dared when I was younger, although I often felt alone, even in a group of friends.
Sitting there, I discovered I felt very close to that long ago, long gone girl.
I wondered what I would say to her, in that “what would you tell your younger self? way. I’ve never really felt like I had a good answer to that question before. No special advice, no look out for this, or remember that.
But in that moment, what poured into my awareness was nothing but unconditional love for her.
“Keep going. Everything counts. I love you and I am so proud of you. I am so proud of everything you have accomplished, survived, figured out, added up, created, let go. Your tears, your mistakes, your laughter, your near misses. All of it. All of it. Keep going, you’ve got this. Life is wonderful – full of wonders. I love you!”
The love no one else can give because they do not, cannot know the WHOLE story.
The Invisible woman of my future. I am that for my teenage self, who sat in that same high ceilinged mock Tudor room, alone with her self doubt and bravado, her flickering dreams and fears.
So how cool is that? Now I know two things. I finally have a satisfying (for me) answer to that helpful/annoying question that pops up from time to time. And I know what it feels like (for me) to love and be loved. Neat hey?
What’s next I wonder?
