Lilies of the Desert

We think of the desert as a dry, barren place; a forbidding environment where life is short-lived and tough; buyer beware, eat-or-be-eaten. Yet, for me, it feels like we have come home. This landscape seems to define female to me now; this from a woman who grew up in the Adirondack mountains of upper New York State, where water gushes throughout the year, where mountains are so old though still growing, rounded by time but ever-powerful. Certainly it's not either/or, yet now that we have had the opportunity to sit in community with women of all ages, disparate backgrounds, differing orientations, coming to rest in women's homes, I think of these hearts as the flowering lilies in this gorgeous dry fierce desert. As it has to this land, a lot has happened to the female body...many conquests, some failed, some successful, have taken place on the female landscape. Yet the flowering continues. The cultivation of gardens of community, of beauty, continues.

The gentle leader of one of these communities, Cammie, a woman in Las Cruces, NM who has been taking care of women for over 25 years, who is one of the founding midwives of 'The Art of Birth and Wellness', a midwiffery school, well-woman's clinic and of course, midwife practice, defined the word 'midwife' as 'with women'. "We're all midwives, every one of us who cares about women...even men. If you love women, you're a midwife." She described to us her definition of true community by offering an example of how they do things in her part of the world. The story goes something like this: a woman in their care had a beautiful home birth producing a healthy baby girl. All was good, until the mama began to hemorrhage. She was admitted to the hospital but because she didn't deliver in the hospital her brand new daughter couldn't accompany her. This mama was determined to breast feed. So, of course, the lactating women within this community took turns feeding the mama's new daughter. These women took this new babe home, bonded with her, kept her skin on skin in a sling, slept with her. And, when the time was right, they snuck her into the hospital so the mama could also bond with her new daughter. This is how it goes in this desert, down here. These women are fierce about this. They look straight into the camera and they say, "We are doing this to change the way women mother. We are doing this because this is the only way it truly works."

These beautiful women are as diverse and rooted as the lilies that inhabit this region; all the Yuccas and the Zotolin. Much like the tough desert flowers, you wouldn't want to cross these ladies. They've weathered a lot of storms, seen and done a lot. They've been on the 'front lines' and their dedication is fiery. And still, their hearts are as tender as the heart of the desert lily, tender, deeply sensitive, and vulnerable: fierce and vulnerable/tough and infinitely receptive. The more I sit with women the more this balance has come to define the feminine principle. These women are united within a set of values mostly unspoken. In fact, when we asked them to speak about it, they look almost confused, tears in their eyes and say, "We do things this way because, how could we not?" They took us in, connected us with their friends and relatives, made calls to women they barely know but whom they feel need to be a part of this vision: the celebration of Women's Wisdom across the planet in service of a world in which all life is sacred.

I will spend my life in a bow to these fierce lilies who seem to thrive in this desert, in a land where we all (women and men) face constant attacks, both intimate and public, on our fiercest fullest expression.