Ms. March

Wednesday, March 1, 2023

For the first time, I am intrigued by the notion of a month of Women’s History. It’s women’s month. Women’s Month. A month for women, with women – the sisterhood, and to celebrate being a woman.


The Women’s Marches always caught me off guard. I would wonder at the time spent on such activities. Did they ever do any good? Any betterment at all?

Doubtful that I am a sampling of the population of women, but let’s suppose I am. How many years has it taken me before I feel, um, worthy enough to stand among women much less even to march with them?

My own psychology would call out a deep dive into the reasons but I do not wish to ‘go there.’

Another time for all that.

Perhaps the Supreme Court ruling with the ultimate reversal of abortion rights awakened me. Perhaps the barrage of Trump news has scared me enough.

Maybe the political representation of women with the likes of Marjorie Taylor Greene awakens me too.

But I do not feel like doing battle. I do not wish to fight. But I do wish to leave, when my life is over, knowing that the world is a better place. Maybe I want to be a part of that effort to improve life standards. I find the lack of improvement in American politics and society troubling. Why can’t our society get anything done?

Yes, I acknowledge that the ‘projects’ I view as worthy are probably debatable. From two years ago, I still believe that enough is enough with gun control. As I have written, the definitions and identifications of the properties of what would be illegal firearms are easily accomplished.

Let’s get it done.

That is an easy check mark on the to-do list. The rest are not so easy. What are those hard topics?

Immigration. Government spending. COVID aftermath. Racism.

It’s 2023. March. Women’s Month. Maybe I want to do the work. Maybe I want our leaders to do the work.


You. Steph. Are not. Creative.

I cannot do this. This is stupid. This is silliness.

“And please, honey, do not confuse your own silliness with creative expression.”


“And, please stop wasting your time, energy and dollars. Please Steph.”

(And I won’t even bring up the slide into the “you are weird” mantra).

For most of my life I believed all those statements. I was numbers. I was science.

And I truly was all those things. I was also creative. I felt like a huge copycat, the replica but never my own standard.

It’s always the fear, isn’t it? That to create and express means bringing forth something from one’s own soul or to develop an idea from one’s own mind. No matter which, creation means a part of you gets thrown into the world away from its safe nest.

But you have to. Silliness?

The Cycle.

I got a bit mad. Momentarily, of course. Then I realized I was scared. Then, I was sad.

Scared again.

And finally, stillness.

From stillness I began to wonder at exactly what was mindfulness. What is mindful? What is mindful to me. What is important?

Does my own mindfulness matter in the pursuit of creation?

Sometimes that internal debate feels as though I have reentered a cozy den of my own gobbledygook. If nothing else, I have always been able to churn.

But I want more from myself. Silliness? My creativity might be silly and just awful. Or distasteful. And my own burgeoning political awareness might be the same.

But I want to challenge myself more. If silliness is the state of my own self then so be it. Then that is my beginning.

One of the best quotes I have read lately states something like “To have good ideas, you must have many ideas.”

I need to keep reminding myself to generate those ideas.

The March On.

Where do I begin in my quest of wanting more? A theme I have noticed from my own dialogue is the idea of respect. While I am known to be fairly easygoing, I have discovered that the pressure of time has also increased my expectation of respect.

I expect the respect I offer to the world. I am puzzled in the situations which reveal the lack of reciprocity.

Mad. Scared. Sad. Stillness.

Mad? Of course anger is natural response. It is the recognition of violation. Scared? A person wonders at the meaning of such violation. Scared to reconcile what it might mean. Removal of oneself from situation? Removal of oneself from the presence of another being?

Sadness at the realization of necessary change. The final state is a stillness of being. Feelings have been felt. Now decisions can be made.

But respect took on a new meaning within myself. In these past months I saw myself not offering my own spirit the respect I deserve or more importantly that I need in order to survive. In order to live my life and experience what I dream of experiencing, I need to offer myself respect.

And that is my recommendation to all women as we begin March 2023.

Let’s do ‘Respect.’ Let it begin with self-respect.

And let’s have a bang-up month!

Lots of love, s.

Published by Stephanie Monka Springborn

Hi. Welcome to my blog, the brick dandelion. I am... just me. Thank you for joining me. Love and Blessings, ~Stephanie

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