last week in my blog about journaling, i mentioned a song i wrote called “hands and knees” that i would love to tell you about today. music is the heart and soul of my life journal. the songs i write or in this case co-wrote with stuart mathis are not born in between the pages of a book’s binding, they all speak to the time in my journey that i never want to forget. hands and knees was written about 18 months after i sold the company i founded and created called philosophy.
for the past thirty years i have been a recognized authority on beauty. today, i know my true expertise comes primarily from being the only person who will ever live my life. our life experiences are what we have to share. over the next several weeks, that is what i will be doing sharing parts of my story with you that until now have lived inside of me.
so looking back, here’s how “hands and knees” came to be: it was a crisp fall morning at philosophy and like many other mornings, i was in an overly caffeinated conference room filled with many other wonderful women. we all worked together in a culture we strived to create as supportive. these women are both mothers and not mothers, married and single, overloaded with responsibilities, beautiful, competent sisters and i was suddenly struck by a profound site of overworked, under loved super girls. we were sharing a silent collective moment i call the breaking point. the breaking point is not a power point presentation. you don’t actually see it till it breaks. but i sensed clearly it was on its way. what i was not able to see in that moment was how forcefully it was coming for me, too. but i heard a few words in my mind that become part of the chorus to this song:
“honey my hands and knees have grown tired from the road
i need relief
honey i’m beat from a broken heavy load.”
now a girl is a girl is a honey is a girl and i believe the truest part of our feminity is our vulnerability. our bodies are more vulnerable, our sensibilities and sensitivities on 24 hour alert. our lives are packed with jobs and responsibilities to ourselves and others with or without children even before we show up to where we actually earn our living. we may recall when we were little children waiting for the slow, slow time to pass until we became grown- ups. then, at last we would be vulnerable no longer. we would be free. now we know to love is to be vulnerable. and to live is to be vulnerable. to never have enough hours in a day is “grown up.” to do so silently and without enough nourishment day after day as we take constant beatings with our own sticks that remind us we have got to be more, and aren’t doing it all to perfection can make us very unsafe.
the freedom we were waiting for comes now in being there for each other while we’re getting “the job” done. this is how we lighten the load. whether in a corporation, a small business, or doing the work of raising our children at home. so I’m wondering, how are you doing this today?
do you reminding each other to take a lunch break?
do you take a moment to listen to someone who really needs to be heard?
do you offer a loving smile just because she looks like she could use it?
when you go in the bathroom, can you look in mirror and say “i love you” just because you need it most of all?
do you make it your business to have a good laugh with someone at least once during the day – no matter what?
can a single moment of being still be as essential as your morning cup of coffee?
i wrote powerful lyrics and melody lines for “hands and knees” so i might stand in my truth side by side women trying to stand in their truth. “honey i’m beat” was the battle cry in each chorus. i will tell you more about the stories behind the verses of hands and knees’s in next week’s blog.
until then, please think of an expression i told myself everyday/during that time. “this too shall pass.” each one of our songs seems to follow the next. the next chorus of “hands and knees” was the prelude to the song that came after which would journal the moment that brought me to my breaking point. that song in turn ended up being the opening to my next miracle. discovering the woman i was always meant to be. right here with you. and i am so very grateful.
peace and blessings,