My dad has strong man hands. I think Reba McEntire wrote “Daddy’s Hands” after my dad’s hands.
“Daddy’s hands were soft and kind when I was cryin’
Daddy’s hands were hard as steel when I’d done wrong
Daddy’s hands weren’t always gentle but I’ve come to understand
There was always love in Daddy’s hands.”
I’ve admired my dad’s hands; the callous’, the grease stains embedded in the lines from years of working on his vehicles, the strength in one palm. Though I admired his hands, I myself wanted the gentle, soft woman hands. Somehow, I got stuck in the middle of my dads hands and soft woman hands. I definitely don’t have my mothers hands. I often wonder what her hands would look like if they weren’t swollen looking ALL the time.
I digress.
* * *
A couple Saturday mornings ago I woke up extra early to go to a Meditation class at a local yoga studio here in town. I had to work at 8am but lucky for me the meditation class was at 7am and only lasted 40 minutes!
The class was a little different than what I’m used to. When I’ve meditated in a group session, it’s always been guided and gives you a direction to point your mind. Today’s was not like that.
The class was not very big. There were 4 of us total. All women. We all sat in a small circle.
The woman to my left was the first to arrive. She had blonde hair that was slightly turning that gorgeous silver color. She was average in size, with a wrist tattoo that I couldn’t quite make out. She was very charming and feminine.
The lady to my right, was the oldest one of us. I don’t know that for absolute certain, but her age was visible on her face. She was so calming and gentle it’s no surprise she wouldn’t mind leading one of the meditations. She wasn’t a rookie at this meditation class.
Lastly the woman directly across from me was the instructor. I’ve taken a yoga class from this instructor for quite a few months, she’s the owner of the studio and reminds me of a sane version of my aunt.
The instructor had us sit so we were comfortable using pillows, blankets and blocks. The instructor then went over the timeline. We would meditate in sessions. The first one would be 10 minutes long followed by a break in which we could share things that came up during the meditation the end with a 15 minute session. After the schedule, the instructor gave some tricks to try if we had a “monkey mind” and jumping thoughts. Then we sat in silence.
In my experience silence can make people very uncomfortable, especially when it’s shared. I was pleasantly surprised that the first round passed by so quickly. It did NOT feel like 10 full minutes had passed. I imagined it being a little more like Liz in Eat, Pray, Love when she was sitting in that hot room and one minute had passed.
Meditation success! I’ll take it.
After the first round, we did a little chatting of things that came up. The first sharer (blonde on my left) was quick to label herself.
“I’m the crier.”
I thought she was joking because she was smiling so I chuckled lightly with the other ladies.
Turns out she wasn’t joking.
Apparently she had taken the meditation class 2 weeks ago and started crying after the first session. She’s a construction worker (I would have NEVER guessed that – she even commented on her delicate nature). She began telling us that last fall a few of her co-workers got together on the job site and sexually assaulted her.
Insert foot into chuckling mouth.
She went on to share that she’s terrified and although it’s out of her hands and the courts are dealing with it, she still gets very anxious, panicky and cries on a whim. My mouth was dropped in shock. I couldn’t believe everything this poor woman had dealt with.
* * *
Though it’s been a couple weeks, I can not stop thinking about this woman. Especially the fact that she doesn’t feel safe.
It’s possible some of those men involved with damaging her safety are also fathers. Could be that they are fathers with daughters who feel safe in their hands.
It’s a little ironic to me that hands that provide a safe place to one can also take that away from someone else.
A change is needed. People (not only women) need to feel safe. We need to have respect for ourselves and others and work together to create a world where everyone is appreciated and protected. It is NOT too much to ask to stop being a dick to others and just BE KIND.
Much love,
Jes xoxo
Ps…if you could send some positive vibes to this woman she (and I) would appreciate it.