Traveling With Pomegranates: A Mother-Daughter Story
How come Sue Monk Kidd gets dreams that are relevant, foreboding, and full of symbolism, while I get dreams about not being able to find my car? Is my car a symbol of my independence and I'm afraid I might lose it? Wow! Maybe there's something to this dream analysis thing after all. And I really need to get one of those car finder key fobs.
But despite her incessant and sometimes unconvincing interludes of "I woke from a dream...", I loved this book and adored the authors--Sue Monk Kidd and her daughter Ann Kidd Taylor. They're going through exactly the same existential crises that I am--and dealing with them better. Pretty much everyone goes through crises like these, except maybe people who have to struggle with basic human needs on a day-to-day basis. The questions are: Why was I rejected? What am I going to do with my life? How do I face the end of life? Just who am I, anyway?
Maybe not as globally important as, Why are people born? Why do they die? and why do they spend so much of the intervening time wearing digital watches? But the questions recur and go on recurring and a person can spend a lifetime searching for the answers.
That's what I took away from this book--answering those hard questions is a process and a journey, not an arrival. It's not a sudden flash or a single, life-shattering insight--it's a lot of life-shattering insights. And I admire both authors tremendously in the way they searched for meaning and shared their journey with the rest of us. Applause!
One thing I'd like to discuss with Ms. Kidd, though. In her struggle with our society's denial of the 'old woman', did she ever read up on native American mythology? Sure, I can't argue that in our shallow 'modern' culture, the old woman is perceived as worthless, weak, and should-be invisible. Once past childbearing age, women have no role to play in society. Funny, isn't it, that women could once choose a career of 'childrearing' and consider themselves fulfilled? It's a career--until the children leave. Then it's nothing. If the kids don't move back home with grandchildren, there is nothing left to do but sit in a rocking chair and knit afghans.
Not Spider Grandmother. She brought the gift of fire; taught the art of weaving; stood up to Coyote when he did magical mischief. I am not myself a native American but I think it's time we rejected the testosterone-driven patriarchal society of Christianity and bring back the wise old women of yore. The Kidds have their Virgin Mary--I have my Spider Grandmother.
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