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Women Know Everything

Aug 5, 2022 | Women's Wisdom

My sister bought me a book a few weeks back: Women Know Everything! 3241 Quips, Quotes and Brilliant Remarks by Karen Weekes

I thought about posting a few quotes from within, offering you some of my favorites, inspiring you with the beauty and wisdom of other women. Instead, another plan…

1) Sit with the title of the book alone.
Women Know Everything! What are the very first thoughts that come to mind? How do you feel about your thoughts? Where do those thoughts and feelings take you? Follow them…

2) Take it a step further and say out loud: “I know everything!”
Pay attention to what happens within our own heart and mind when you say these words. What emotions show up? What kind of resistance do you feel, exactly? Are you validated? Do you feel arrogant in saying such a thing? Doubtful? Like an imposter? Do you hear the defiant shout within: “Finally! And exactly!”? Do you laugh? Do you feel wistful, defensive, angry, grateful? Every one of these is worthwhile, telling, and true! (More to explore, to be sure!)

3) Finally (though hardly), think about the question, situation, challenge, or struggle that is closest in mind and heart for you right now.
Got it? Now, whisper gently to yourself: I already know. I already know. I already know. Deep breath. This is true.

Of course, there is always more for us to learn. But along the way and in this moment, you can lean on and into the perfect-and-complete-and-trustworthy knowing that is yours. Right now. At this time. And in perfect measure. (I KNOW I’m right about this!)

May it be so.

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4 Things I Want You to Know

Jul 30, 2022 | Sacred Stories, Spirituality, Women's Wisdom

As you undoubtedly know, I spend countless hours (decades, really) in the midst of ancient, sacred stories of women. And I persist because, bottom line, this is what I believe:

We need these stories. We need these women. And we deserve them: muses, mentors, companions, even midwives who call us forth and birth us into the lives that are ours to claim, to live, to love.

I believe this, as well:

The more value and worth we give to any woman’s story, the more value and worth we give to our own. 

I do believe these things. Deep in my bones. But that hardly means I always (even often) feel confident about a bit of it. My inner critic gets the better of me more days than not. I sit in front of this screen and wonder if what I’m thinking and writing makes any difference at all. I question whether I’ll ever get the manuscript finished and if it will matter a whit once I do. And I know that every single one of these thoughts are lies from the pit of hell…

The beauty, gift, and miracle in all of this is that no matter how far I wander down this less-than-honoring rabbit trail, the stories — the women themselves — bring me back to myself. It’s astonishing and miraculous and humbling. And so, I persist. 

What follows is the tiniest glimpse into just one of the stories I’m (re)visioning. I’m hopeful it will bring you back to yourself — no matter your doubts, your inner critic, your questions, your fears; that you will see just how much value and worth YOUR story holds; how much value and worth YOU have — today and every day, all the time.

Once upon a time there was a pharaoh who was paranoid about the population growth of his slaves. He feared that if something wasn’t done about it that they would eventually overtake him. Fed up with this, he called two midwives into his presence and commanded that they kill every boy-child birthed. They didn’t like this idea and so, did just the opposite. The pharaoh called them on the carpet, demanding to know why they had not obeyed him. They said, “The Hebrew women are much too strong and fast! They have the child before we can even get there!” Because of their courage, they were blessed with children of their own.

(Yes, eventually, the Hebrew slaves DID break free. Their exodus was led by a man who was once a baby boy not killed; saved by his mother’s bravery, his sister’s creativity, and yet another woman’s compassion — the pharaoh’s own daughter. But that’s another story for another time.)

Though there is so much to mine and treasure in this story, here are four takeaways for now — and for you; the oh-so-relevant wisdom these two women speak into your heart and life:

  1. Do what you can’t not do — even before you feel ready. You are.
  2. Neither the voices within, nor those of “power” without have the final say. You do.
  3. Trust that life is yours to bring forth on your own and others’ behalf, no matter the risk. It is.
  4. Stand alongside other women — always and in all things. It matters.

If there were a 5th takeaway, it would be this: The midwives (and countless others) stand alongside you. You’re not alone. You’re not alone. You’re not alone. No matter what.

That’s it! 

Well, OK, just one thing more. Well, 5 things. 5 questions, really.

  1. What is it that you can’t not do?
  2. What does your voice have to say?
  3. What life is yours to bring forth — for yourself and/or others — no matter the risk?
  4. Who are the women alongside whom you can stand?
  5. What if you aren’t alone, ever? You’re not. I promise.

Every Monday morning I write and send a letter (via email). It’s my latest thoughts, my deepest heart — and always on your behalf. I’d love for you to have it. SUBSCRIBE.

About Time

Jul 8, 2022 | Hope & Encouragement, Sovereignty, Women's Wisdom

I’ve been thinking a lot about time lately; struggling with it in some ways. And oddly, it’s not because I don’t have enough of it or feel like I’m on some endless treadmill; rather, just the opposite!

I find myself uncomfortable with, even avoiding, the spaciousness of time.

I’m a do-er. Super task-oriented. Motivated by efficiency. Profoundly satisfied by getting all my to-do’s checked off on a daily basis (and as quickly as possible). And I’m quite good at this! I get a lot done in a relatively short amount of time. So, to slow down, to stop working, to not take on one more thing just because I can, feels not only frivolous and irresponsible, but damn-near impossible.

When I ask myself why, I don’t have to search very far to find the answer.

Underneath my busy-ness, my schedule, my constant doing, is a deeply ingrained belief: my value and worth are determined by how efficient and productive I am.

I’m guessing it’s not just me.

A few questions:

  • How do you feel about yourself when, at the end of the day, you’ve not checked everything off your list?
  • What emotions show up when you look at the still-unanswered emails sitting in your inbox?
  • What is your mood when you get up in the morning to a kitchen that was not cleaned the night before?
  • What is your response to the latest post on Instagram that tells you it’s not only possible, but damn-near required that you accomplish more, earn more, be more — and all available to you if only you hustle harder (and buy the program that will teach you exactly how to do so)?
  • What would your mother say if you slacked off or took a sick day or gave yourself a break from your endless inventory of tasks and to-do’s? (I know: what your mother might say is not really relevant. But you do know her answer, don’t you?)

About Bridgerton & Romance Novels

Jul 1, 2022 | Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

A couple years back I devoured every novel in Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton series within a matter of weeks — far before I had any inkling a Netflix version was on the way. (You can only imagine how I responded when that news arrived!)

I’ll admit that I felt a flutter of shame (maybe “embarrassment” is a better word) for pouring through those books in record time, for enjoying them as much as I did, for getting sucked into a romantic trope that is (or at least was), in my opinion, completely unrealistic, nothing more than fantasy, and only enticing because of the steamy sex.

Harsh, I know.

(That inner dialogue and critique did not keep me from reading more — or from binging on both seasons.)

What is it about these stories that draws us in?

I have a few ideas…

So do others:

As early as 2013, an article in The Atlantic endeavored to show “how romance novels came to embrace feminism.” A few years later, the author of an article on the genre in the online women’s magazine Bustle characterized romance novels as some of the perhaps “most rebellious books you can read right now.” Romance novels, she affirmed, are “practically the only books in which women get exactly what they want, all of the time, and aren’t asked to feel bad about it.” (source.)

‘Might be worth reading that last sentence one more time…

Where do you get exactly what you want, all of the time, without being made to feel badly about it?

Where do you know this to be true for yourself? An even better question: DO you know this to be true for yourself?

Go ahead, think about it for a bit. I’ll wait for you. Where do you get exactly what you want, all of the time, without being made to feel badly about it?
.
.
.
.
.
.

This is foreign territory for most of us. And it uncovers a truth that we all-too-often dismiss.

We live our lives, in large part, without getting what we want, most of the time, and when we do, we are made to feel badly about it and/or we impose that shame ourselves.

Ouch!

So, what are we to do? Well, maybe read more Romance novels.

They let us imagine our own story, our own life in a much different way from “normal.” All obstacles are conquered. All misunderstanding healed. All betrayal (by self and others) disallowed. We are powerful, chosen, and the one who does the choosing! They allow us to feel into what we deserve and what we will NOT tolerate. They help us identify and name our desires. Yes, for love, but so much more (strength, wit, discernment, agency, courage, passion, voice…) And all of this without a hint of shame.

The story of a woman in a Romance novel invites us to look far more deeply at our own story; to admit and allow, even if only within those pages, that we want what she has. That we want, period.

For the skeptics in the crowd:

Believe me, I know. The tendency is strong to bucket every bit of this into “fantasy,” an escape from reality, a silly diversion. I mean…come on! It’s just a book! It’s a trope that is intentionally designed to make us feel this way. There’s a happy ending, for goodness sake! Come down from the clouds.

And…it always feels far safer to stay in skepticism, even contempt, than to hope. (Believe me, I know.) It’s what I wrote about a couple weeks back, yes? Me not practicing what I preach, resisting desire for fear of disappointment. I get it.

There’s some logic I’m following that I think (and hope) might just change your mind. It’s definitely changed mine.

We must take in as many stories of women as we possibly can — especially those who get what they want, all of the time, without being made to feel badly about it. They invite us to imagine — and then create — a story of our own, a world, in which we are our own protagonists, unashamed, strong, and full of desire — passionate, awake, alive.

We must take in as many stories of women as we possibly can — especially those who knew great harm, misunderstanding and malignment, silencing and shame. They compel us to imagine — and then create — a story of our own, a world, in which their losses are NOT ours, in which we lean on and learn from their wisdom and strength, and through which we are reminded that we are not alone; that we stand on the shoulders of an entire matrilineal line on which we can depend.

Entering into the stories of women don’t whisk us away from reality, they usher us into it — with fierce defiance, fiery passion, and an endless determination to get what we want.

And what is that? What do we want, ultimately?

We want a world in which every woman’s lived story is not imagined; it’s real, felt, experienced, and expressed. Strong and sovereign. Never made to feel badly about anything; instead, honored, acknowledged, and esteemed; heard, seen, and valued.

May it be so.

About Being an Outlaw

Jun 24, 2022 | Hope & Encouragement, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

Yes, about being an outlaw…but also archetypes and exhaustion and self-care and then some.

The dictionary defines an archetype as a recurrent motif in literature, art, or mythology; a typical example of a person or thing. You’ve heard of the maiden, the mother, and the crone. There’s the lover, the hero, the magician, the sage, and more. Then there’s the outlaw.

Here’s some description:

  • The Outlaw yearns for liberation from oppression. They’re risk-takers, progressive, and exude bravery in all circumstances.
  • They have a penchant for revolution to help change the world — and if anarchy is involved, so be it — to make the world a better place. They are rule-breakers, despise being regulated, and oppose conformity.
  • They denounce the normalized, what’s accepted, and status quo for something better. To do this, disruption is their tool. They run counter to the crowds. (The Brand Leader)

You can relate, yes? These things describe you — at least in part. Me too.

Here’s another definition that I find even more powerful:

“A woman who begins to take charge of her own life drawing not from patriarchal notions of individualistic success but from a desire to escape these norms is committing an act of social deviance and rebellion. She is the outlaw…” ~ Danielle Dulsky, The Holy Wild: A Heathen Bible for the Untamed Woman.

There’s much in me that aspires to this archetype, that wants to be the outlaw. I’m all about liberation and risk-taking, revolution and rule-breaking. It feels required, quite frankly. But to only be this, leaves me feeling tired, sometimes discouraged, and often overwhelmed by just how much remains to be “disrupted” in order to make the world a better place.

I want to be the outlaw AND I am more. I am the maiden, the mother, and the crone. I am the lover, the hero, the magician, the sage, and more. All of these at the same time. As the poet Walt Whitman said, “I am large. I contain multitudes.”

So, I wonder how to hold fast to the passion, intention, (and critical necessity) of the outlaw while holding on to all of myself — all at the same time.

And then I wonder, “What if I just let the sky fall? The falling sky is what Chicken Little was deathly afraid of — certain the world was coming to an end when, in truth, a single acorn had fallen out of a maple tree and landed on their head.

I am not comparing Chicken Little’s tiny acorn to the sky that we hold up.

I am NOT saying that our concerns are over-reactive or hysterical; they are real and significant; they matter. I am NOT saying that we shouldn’t worry about all that might happen were we to let go of the “fight,” even for a little while; vigilance and perseverance is needed — now more than ever. I am NOT saying that we should just kick up our heels (with or without “outlaw” boots) and forget about it all; ignore the issues, bury our head in the sand, live and let live.

I AM saying that sometimes, especially when our arms are tired and we’re worn out from fighting, that there are other aspects of who we are that deserve our time, attention, nurture, and care.

I AM saying that it is radical — and rebellious and rule-breaking — to be kind to yourself, to nurture yourself, to think of yourself first (!!!); to go within and pay attention to your emotions, to listen to your heart, to follow it; to stop holding up the sky at the expense of all else, at the expense of all of you.

I am saying that perhaps this IS the most outlaw-like choice of all.

To do any of this IS “a woman who begins to take charge of her own life, drawing not from patriarchal notions…but from a desire to escape these norms…She is the outlaw.”

Here’s what’s true: We can advocate for social justice and let the sky fall — both at the same time, at least for a time. We can think brilliantly and feel deeply. We can be (and are) more than enough and never too much. We can be honest and loving. We can tell the truth and be compassionate. We can be the maiden, the mother, the crone and the lover, the hero, the magician, the sage, and more. We can be the outlaw and nurture ourselves in the most generous and extravagant of ways. In fact, we must.

More and more, I am coming to believe that it is just as radical and revolutionary to be kind to ourselves, listen deep within, trust our wisdom, and yes, let the sky fall, as it is to decry patriarchal notions and norms and commit acts of social deviance and rebellion. Even more rule-breaking and defiant than either of these is believing and knowing that we have the capacity to do both at the very same time, to “contain multitudes.”

It’s when we acknowledge, allow, even celebrate all of this — all of who we are — that we become the most outlaw-esque of all.

From one outlaw (and maiden/mother/crone/lover/hero/magician/sage and more) to another, may it be so.

*****

I’d be honored if you’d SUBSCRIBE to my Monday Letters. Long-form. My thoughts. My heart on your behalf, to be sure. ronnadetrick.com/monday-letters

Not practicing what I preach

Jun 17, 2022 | Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom, Writing

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my desire. No. That’s not quite true. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my lack of desire — my resistance to it. Not across the board — but in particular areas of my life.

This awareness has come as a surprise to me, quite frankly.

Desire is hardly a new thought or topic in my world. I’ve learned to follow its impetus and wisdom more times than not (after many decades of just the opposite). And I’ve certainly written and talked about it a ton — redeeming Eve’s story in ways that reveal her as inspiration and model of desire — in the best and most perfect of ways. Our blueprint, our forebear, our legacy! She calls us, beckons us, invites us to desire; she reminds us that our desire is good, that we are!

All this said, you can see why this is a conundrum for me, this chasm between what I practice and what I preach!

A dear friend came to visit me. We sat in my living room and talked of many things — among which was our respective books. She told me about just recently turning her completed manuscript over to a designer who will now create the book itself in preparation for self-publishing. (It’s going to be magnificent.) I spoke of my own manuscript, my timeline, how I am (mostly) pushing past my resistance. And we bantered back and forth — sometimes lightly, other times with much more angst — over the whole world of marketing, publicity, and promotion that yet remains. And all with no guarantee of “success.”

In the midst of all this, I said, “What if I just don’t care? What if I just write the book because it deserves to be written, because I want it written, and then let it go? What if don’t worry myself with the outcomes, the numbers, the success (or not)? What if it’s really about the creation of it — not what happens once it’s finished?”

To which she replied, “I suppose that’s one option, Ronna. Or you could actually acknowledge that you do desire so much more. If you’re being completely honest, you want your book to be wildly successful. You want your work honored, your voice heard — not just by some, but by many. Maybe you could let yourself have that: all of your desire — whether it happens, or not.”

Record scratch.

That was weeks ago. I have been sitting with her words ever since.

Actually let myself want? Really acknowledge my desire? Open myself up to that kind of dreaming — even though it feels completely unrealistic and outside the realm of possibility?

If I don’t desire — at least not in amazing and vast and extravagant ways — if I tamp it down, then I spare myself that pain. Sort of. Not really.

To let myself desire — honest, raw, and unedited — means that I allow disappointment instead of trying to avoid it.

*sigh*

Every bit of my resistance (and yours), every emotion that rises to the surface for me (and for you), invites me/us that much deeper and further in — to our stories, to our soul, and yes, to our honest, raw, and unedited desire. Which, of course, is good…and amazing and vast and extravagant. Really.

When Eve bit into the apple, she gave us the world as we know the world — beautiful, flawed, dangerous, full of being… All we know of heaven we know from Eve, who gave us earth, a serviceable blueprint: Without Eve there would be no utopias, no imaginable reason to find and to create transcendence, to ascend toward the light. Eve’s legacy to us is the imperative to desire. ~ Barbara Grizutti Harrison, Out of the Garden: Women Writers on the Bible

The imperative to desire.

May it be so, yes? For you and me both!