Yesterday Donald Trump spoke at a commencement ceremony for the Naval Academy in Maryland. He told them that “our ancestors tamed a continent,” adding that “we are not going to apologize for America.”
With out getting too political (yet), I will say simply that this man disgusts me and represents a very real threat to the ideals I hold closest to my heart.
For the moment, let just focus on the fact that he seems to support, through his statements, the genocide that was enacted upon the indigenous people living here prior to European colonization, and that he appears to be proud of the fact that some savage element which previously existed here was able to be ‘tamed’ by our good ol’ ‘American’ (but really European), forefathers.
I think he is a very sick human.
A do not see being ‘tame’ as a virtue. I would rather be a savage.
So let me re-post an old blog from before. This is to you, my wild, savage, untamable sister:
“Us women are wild creatures. No matter how old we are, where we live, what language we speak, deep down, we all know know this. We can feel the connection from deep within our souls, that timeless bond which springs from the depths of our hearts and plunges down through the dark rich soils, past the crust of the earth, into the fiery core of the planet itself, like a shimmering root linking us undeniably to Mother Nature. Or is it the other way around? Perhaps it is both.
This bond is natural, vital, and owes no part of it’s sovereignty to ideals of time or culture. Our grandmothers and great grandmothers felt it, just as all our ancestors throughout the centuries felt it, just as our daughters will, and the daughters of their daughters will feel it long after we are gone. From these soul roots our sacred energies blossom and spring forth, branching out into the universe, the wild unknown, touching the essence of all that is and ever will be, expanding into space unafraid and undaunted by the mysteries of the infinite, growing into the ether with the natural grace of a sapling simultaneously reaching out towards the heavens and down into the depths of consciousness, unconcerned with justifying her existence, living for the thrill of being, and perfect because of it.
We are of the Earth. We are Nature herself. There is a word I learned of recently, a word which describes a field of thought centered around the philosophy of the link between Woman and Earth. It is called “Ecofeminism”. Seriously, look it up. I have yet to delve further into this field, though I plan to, but am thrilled and encouraged by it’s existence. What we do to our planet, we do to ourselves, and visa-versa.
But most of us already know this. We know this because of that fact in and of itself. We are not just creatures ON the earth. We are creatures OF the earth. We are wildly intuitive. Our senses by nature sharp and highly evolved for living a life of exuberant freedom and creativity. Loving, nurturing, imagining. Full expressions of ecstatic joy and complete surrendering in times of pain and sorrow. We are meant to ride these cycles of life with total trust and gratitude for our existence. We know of the ebb and flow of life as intimately as we known the ebb and flow of the tides within our own bodies. We do not fight the current, for we know it is futile. Rather, we learn to swim with it, allow it to carry us where it will, and use the energy which would have been wasted in the struggle to dance among the waves.
It is true, sometimes there will be less dancing and more concentrating on keeping ones head above water. Sometimes we are even pulled under, into our own watery depths. And it is imperative at these moments we do not panic, but rather open our eyes and take note of the environment surrounding us. If it is too dark to see, we use our other senses to help us navigate our way back to the surface. In time, we become so comfortable with this that we are able to dive down beneath the surface at will, gliding without air, searching for the treasures beneath. Sometimes, the best thing to do is simply turn over on our backs and float for a time, face to the heavens, and give complete control to the current we are riding on. Maybe this is after a particularly draining patch of rapids or tempest born waves, or maybe it is during a beautiful period of warm calm waters, with sumptuous sunlight and cotton ball clouds overhead. We know when to dive and when to float. We know that rough waters push us to calmer seas, and that calm water will grow stale, stagnant, and just plain boring with no movement.
Yes, we are capable wild creatures by nature, but sometimes we become ensnared. Sometimes we swim directly into the fisherman’s net, or step foot into the steel claw trap lurking under the carpet of leaves. Sometimes too, it was our mothers who were captured, who in one way or another were severed from their natural habitats, and though we are born wild, we are raised domesticated, with tameness becoming a celebrated characteristic. No woman’s soul was ever nourished by being tame. Even when we have never known freedom, we itch for it’s embrace. We long to run into the forest, become part of the wilderness again, press bare feet into the mud, dance naked under the moonlight, weave wildflowers into our children’s hair and breath the scent of pine. We want to scream and cry and sing and howl. And we must. For us women are wild creatures…”
SAVAGE: Not domesticated or under human control. Wild. Uncultivated. Lacking the restraints normal to civilized human beings. — Merriam Webster