At a most appropriate time, my mother gave me a copy of Gift from the Sea, a must-read for all women (in my humble opinion).
I recently returned the book as a temporarily loan to Mom; I felt that the timing was right. As I handed over the book, I noticed that while reading it a few years back, I dog-eared a number of pages for safe-keeping, and I opened it to the below. At this moment of my life during which I mightily struggle more than ever before to balance all that is urgently pressing and dear: love and the future that is rapidly approaching, family, work, friends… it was almost as if the spirit of Ms. Lindbergh were politely coughing and pointing from the great beyond to her words of wisdom.
I share this passage here with you and hope you pick up your own copy.
Is this then what happens to woman? She wants perpetually to spill herself away. All her instinct as a woman, the eternal nourisher of children, of men, of society, demands that she give. Her time, her energy, her creativeness drain out into these channels if there is any change, any leak. Traditionally we are taught, and instinctively we long, to give where it is needed, and immediately. Eternally, woman spills herself away in driblets to the thirsty, seldom being allowed the time, the quiet, the peace, to let the pitcher fill up to the brim.
Purposeful giving is not as apt to deplete ones resources; it belongs to that natural order of giving that seems to renew itself even in the act of depletion. The more one gives, the more one has to give, like milk in the breast.
If it is womans function to give, she must be replenished too. But how? Solitude, says the moon shell. Every person, especially every woman, should be alone sometime during the year, some part of each week, and each day.