What are you listening to?
- Thread starter redjade
- Start date
nortkee
Padawan Learner
I wrote about this song in a social media post because I'm trying to exercise the muscles of speaking up about things that are important to me, especially when I know my opinion goes against the current cultural narrative.
My husband and I regularly discuss the topic of feminism and misandry, and sometimes I find myself getting uncomfortable in the midst of the discussion even though he and I are on the same page. This unease has, on more than one occasion, spiraled into tension that feels entirely misplaced between me and my fella, which, gone unchecked, can be quite demoralizing considering the strong "us against the world" dynamic we've established.
More and more, I realize my discomfort is trying to tell me that in order to feel at peace with my own nature as a woman, I need to be more vocal about the toxic nature of modern feminism.
This feels somewhat like a debt to be paid, as I was once a fairly outspoken feminist. At age 21, I became a founding member of an all-women's theater group called the Weird Sisters. Our first play was a reinterpretation of Shakespeare's Macbeth, and in our version, the three witches were naught but innocent healers and midwives, persecuted by the patriarchal regime of Macbeth and his ilk.
That first play, which ran in either '03 or '04, was honestly a wonderful and formative experience for me. It served as a launchpad for my creative pursuits. And then after that first play, we more or less just started having fun with being able to play any role we wished, regardless of our sex, rather than trying to make much of a point. In 2008, for instance, I got to be Sir John Falstaff in my favorite Shakespeare play, The Merry Wives of Windsor. We kept the text but changed the setting to 1950s oil boom Texas, and imagined Falstaff as an Elvis type in some dire financial straits, who rolls in with his bandmates and causes a ruckus. It was so fun.
But then, if you can believe it, around 2012, things started feeling kind of... disingenuous. The last play I participated in was something called Brides of the Moon, written by a feminist theater troupe called The Five Lesbian Brothers. It was meant to be a campy and irreverent "space romp", and it had its fun moments, but... it was just kind of -- for lack of a better word -- mean.
From there, the actual performance aspect of the Weird Sisters kind of petered out, and it became more of a social group for the next several years. Though we had members come and go over time, the core group had remained tightly knit, and we saw each other pretty regularly. We were there for each others' weddings, divorces, new babies, you name it.
In 2017, when my (now) husband and I made the giant leap to be together after having known each other via the internet since we were teenagers, something shifted internally for me, although I wasn't able to put words to the feeling that made me not want to introduce him to these women. These so-called sisters who had been in my life since I was a young adult. When a New Year's Eve party hosted by another founding member -- which would have been the first time any of them would meet Matthew -- was cancelled, there was this overwhelming sense of relief that I didn't take the time to explore in the moment.
A lot has happened between then and now, in both a worldly and personal sense, and I am finally, FINALLY able to understand why I instinctively knew not to bring Matthew around the women whose approval once meant so much to me. Beneath surface of the Weird Sisters lurked the same thing that almost always seems to grow within groups specifically formed around righting the so-called wrongs of the past: suspicion of the supposed "opposition." Something inside me knew that my union with Matthew had unlocked something within me that transcended concepts like feminism and patriarchy. Something inside me knew that he and I were, in some sense, meant to serve as a beacon of finding loving balance in an unbalanced world. And something inside me knew that if I were to express this to these "sisters" of mine, I would come away feeling like a clown.
But now I know better. When it comes to these Weird Sisters, I'm not a clown, I'm a fool.
Anyhow, this post has gotten entirely too long, but I suppose that's par for the course since my intention is, as stated above, to exercise the muscles associated with being true to oneself even in the face of cultural pressure to clam up and move along without a fuss. The song that started this whole train of thought is called Song of Women by a Mongolian group called The HU. I hope you enjoy it!
And, as I mentioned before, here's my social media post about the song:
Since I started walking consistently, my musical tastes have evolved. I'm drawn to the droning rhythms of bands like Heilung, Wardruna, Dead Can Dance, amongst many others.
But my favorite new discovery, by far, is this Mongolian band called The HU. I once read something about how the word HU means "humans" or something along those lines, and how their music is meant to transcend labels without denying where we come from. That may not be the exact explanation, but I like it so I'm sticking with it.
Anyway, this song, called Song of Women, is one of my very favorites, and I would like to tell you why.
This song reveres women for basically all of the attributes that are currently eschewed by popular culture. The kind of qualities that get you ousted from Club Fem: compassion, softness, gratitude for men who put their bodies on the line for the sake of safety and family.
I relinquished my membership a while back, and it's been one of the most liberating experiences of my life, which I find delightfully ironic.
But freedom isn't free, as they say. I may be out of that toxic relationship with feminism, but I'm not just going to disappear into the ether in the name of harmony. Nope, I've got daughters in the game now, and I don't want them growing up with the deranged and entitled attitude that the future is theirs just because they have a uterus.
The world just works better when we try to earn our place in it. And being "kind... of a bitch" sounds like a road straight to hell -- without a single paving stone of good intentions to speak of.
So anyway, that's why I like this song. Thank you for your attention to this matter.
Here are the lyrics, translated to English (via genius.com):
The palm tree grows and flowers
As she sings softly, my soul retains
Honorable lady
Compassionate and delicate
The Argali springs and flies in the mountains
Her fondness melts me languidly
Honorable lady
Compassionate and lovely
The birds sing and tweet in the blue sky
They are happy and joyful in their souls
Honorable lady
Compassionate and mesmerizing
With the precious words of your forefathers
With the milk blessed road of your mother's, the true path
With the power of love for your motherland
Have a fighter spirit in your body, be steady
As if you were a sword with a sharp blade
As if you were an arrow ready to shoot, spring and fly, ride and rise
My husband and I regularly discuss the topic of feminism and misandry, and sometimes I find myself getting uncomfortable in the midst of the discussion even though he and I are on the same page. This unease has, on more than one occasion, spiraled into tension that feels entirely misplaced between me and my fella, which, gone unchecked, can be quite demoralizing considering the strong "us against the world" dynamic we've established.
More and more, I realize my discomfort is trying to tell me that in order to feel at peace with my own nature as a woman, I need to be more vocal about the toxic nature of modern feminism.
This feels somewhat like a debt to be paid, as I was once a fairly outspoken feminist. At age 21, I became a founding member of an all-women's theater group called the Weird Sisters. Our first play was a reinterpretation of Shakespeare's Macbeth, and in our version, the three witches were naught but innocent healers and midwives, persecuted by the patriarchal regime of Macbeth and his ilk.
That first play, which ran in either '03 or '04, was honestly a wonderful and formative experience for me. It served as a launchpad for my creative pursuits. And then after that first play, we more or less just started having fun with being able to play any role we wished, regardless of our sex, rather than trying to make much of a point. In 2008, for instance, I got to be Sir John Falstaff in my favorite Shakespeare play, The Merry Wives of Windsor. We kept the text but changed the setting to 1950s oil boom Texas, and imagined Falstaff as an Elvis type in some dire financial straits, who rolls in with his bandmates and causes a ruckus. It was so fun.
But then, if you can believe it, around 2012, things started feeling kind of... disingenuous. The last play I participated in was something called Brides of the Moon, written by a feminist theater troupe called The Five Lesbian Brothers. It was meant to be a campy and irreverent "space romp", and it had its fun moments, but... it was just kind of -- for lack of a better word -- mean.
From there, the actual performance aspect of the Weird Sisters kind of petered out, and it became more of a social group for the next several years. Though we had members come and go over time, the core group had remained tightly knit, and we saw each other pretty regularly. We were there for each others' weddings, divorces, new babies, you name it.
In 2017, when my (now) husband and I made the giant leap to be together after having known each other via the internet since we were teenagers, something shifted internally for me, although I wasn't able to put words to the feeling that made me not want to introduce him to these women. These so-called sisters who had been in my life since I was a young adult. When a New Year's Eve party hosted by another founding member -- which would have been the first time any of them would meet Matthew -- was cancelled, there was this overwhelming sense of relief that I didn't take the time to explore in the moment.
A lot has happened between then and now, in both a worldly and personal sense, and I am finally, FINALLY able to understand why I instinctively knew not to bring Matthew around the women whose approval once meant so much to me. Beneath surface of the Weird Sisters lurked the same thing that almost always seems to grow within groups specifically formed around righting the so-called wrongs of the past: suspicion of the supposed "opposition." Something inside me knew that my union with Matthew had unlocked something within me that transcended concepts like feminism and patriarchy. Something inside me knew that he and I were, in some sense, meant to serve as a beacon of finding loving balance in an unbalanced world. And something inside me knew that if I were to express this to these "sisters" of mine, I would come away feeling like a clown.
But now I know better. When it comes to these Weird Sisters, I'm not a clown, I'm a fool.
Anyhow, this post has gotten entirely too long, but I suppose that's par for the course since my intention is, as stated above, to exercise the muscles associated with being true to oneself even in the face of cultural pressure to clam up and move along without a fuss. The song that started this whole train of thought is called Song of Women by a Mongolian group called The HU. I hope you enjoy it!
And, as I mentioned before, here's my social media post about the song:
Since I started walking consistently, my musical tastes have evolved. I'm drawn to the droning rhythms of bands like Heilung, Wardruna, Dead Can Dance, amongst many others.
But my favorite new discovery, by far, is this Mongolian band called The HU. I once read something about how the word HU means "humans" or something along those lines, and how their music is meant to transcend labels without denying where we come from. That may not be the exact explanation, but I like it so I'm sticking with it.
Anyway, this song, called Song of Women, is one of my very favorites, and I would like to tell you why.
This song reveres women for basically all of the attributes that are currently eschewed by popular culture. The kind of qualities that get you ousted from Club Fem: compassion, softness, gratitude for men who put their bodies on the line for the sake of safety and family.
I relinquished my membership a while back, and it's been one of the most liberating experiences of my life, which I find delightfully ironic.
But freedom isn't free, as they say. I may be out of that toxic relationship with feminism, but I'm not just going to disappear into the ether in the name of harmony. Nope, I've got daughters in the game now, and I don't want them growing up with the deranged and entitled attitude that the future is theirs just because they have a uterus.
The world just works better when we try to earn our place in it. And being "kind... of a bitch" sounds like a road straight to hell -- without a single paving stone of good intentions to speak of.
So anyway, that's why I like this song. Thank you for your attention to this matter.
Here are the lyrics, translated to English (via genius.com):
The palm tree grows and flowers
As she sings softly, my soul retains
Honorable lady
Compassionate and delicate
The Argali springs and flies in the mountains
Her fondness melts me languidly
Honorable lady
Compassionate and lovely
The birds sing and tweet in the blue sky
They are happy and joyful in their souls
Honorable lady
Compassionate and mesmerizing
With the precious words of your forefathers
With the milk blessed road of your mother's, the true path
With the power of love for your motherland
Have a fighter spirit in your body, be steady
As if you were a sword with a sharp blade
As if you were an arrow ready to shoot, spring and fly, ride and rise
