Women and Immortality
As I conversed with a convalescing young mother nursing her first baby girl, I saw in my mind's eye fleeting glimpses of my past. The nostalgic sounds of the baby rekindled my fascination for new life. And as my young friend spoke of the travails of first birth she went through a few days ago, commenting on how it feels to suffer as a delivering mother, I remembered a similar remark made by my wife and her greater admiration for her mother. And I also remembered my mother and felt feelings akin to guilt, especially when my young friend said in an accusing tone, that men will never understand how it is to be a mother. Even as I spoke, I nearly choked with emotions raised by those poignant recollections.
The moment also brought up something else remotely connected with parenthood. I became enwrapped with thoughts about immortality. It occurred to me that the edge woman has over man is her physical awareness of her own biological immortality. The baby is an extension of her life -- an incontrovertible evidence of her continuity. The baby was part of her body -- all of it. The father? I, man, had but contributed a minuscule part of myself in one brief moment of conception, and that is all I can say of my biological continuity.
Maybe, once upon an eon when society was run by matriarchs, men were just like other males of creation whose function was to inseminate the female and then perish. And maybe the dying off of the male compelled the wise matriarchs (like the Amazons of the Greek legends) to alter society as a human ecological measure. The concession of the matriarchs to transform society to patriarchy was to relinquish visible power. Let man take care of the world -- of governing, of making war, and so on. Women will take care of the home and the purse. And of conditioning the children -- so that their loyalty shall always be devoted to the mother. Let man's name live on in the children of women so that he shall have a sense of immortality, of meaning, of purpose. Of the children, women know absolutely that they are theirs, but, as a cynic once insinuated, men do not have as much assurance that the children their wives bore are theirs. Thus, women subconsciously are aware of their immortality. A daughter's child is a biological extension of the grandmother. Man's line ends with a daughter -- her children no longer carry his name. But a woman's flesh-immortality is not tied up with a name. It does not matter; daughters assure her continuity. Ironically, a woman's line stops with her son.
Perhaps it is this unconscious tragic sense of mortality that impels man to philosophize; there are rare women-philosophers. Speculation -- thinking about the spirit -- seems to be the mental preoccupation of men. Women may participate in such discussions, but eventually their concerns gravitate towards topics about babies, about clothes, about jewelries, about other women -- things that can be touched and seen and heard. Not that they are unfit for metaphysics, but that only the insecure are obsessed with things out of reach. Men cannot help talk about matters that give them assurance of their role and importance in the universal scheme of things. Women instinctively know their power and importance. Let men indulge in their insecurities; women will be around to give them solace and strength during moments of despair.
Women may drum up feminist movements demanding raised status in society. Theirs is the effort to wrest back from men the lost superiority of the matriarchs. If they prevail, we shall have come full circle. Men will again be relegated to the role of mere catalysts to latent lives. Men will then be relieved of the burdens of the world. And yet, wars that may be wrought by women will still be fought by men.
The moment also brought up something else remotely connected with parenthood. I became enwrapped with thoughts about immortality. It occurred to me that the edge woman has over man is her physical awareness of her own biological immortality. The baby is an extension of her life -- an incontrovertible evidence of her continuity. The baby was part of her body -- all of it. The father? I, man, had but contributed a minuscule part of myself in one brief moment of conception, and that is all I can say of my biological continuity.
Maybe, once upon an eon when society was run by matriarchs, men were just like other males of creation whose function was to inseminate the female and then perish. And maybe the dying off of the male compelled the wise matriarchs (like the Amazons of the Greek legends) to alter society as a human ecological measure. The concession of the matriarchs to transform society to patriarchy was to relinquish visible power. Let man take care of the world -- of governing, of making war, and so on. Women will take care of the home and the purse. And of conditioning the children -- so that their loyalty shall always be devoted to the mother. Let man's name live on in the children of women so that he shall have a sense of immortality, of meaning, of purpose. Of the children, women know absolutely that they are theirs, but, as a cynic once insinuated, men do not have as much assurance that the children their wives bore are theirs. Thus, women subconsciously are aware of their immortality. A daughter's child is a biological extension of the grandmother. Man's line ends with a daughter -- her children no longer carry his name. But a woman's flesh-immortality is not tied up with a name. It does not matter; daughters assure her continuity. Ironically, a woman's line stops with her son.
Perhaps it is this unconscious tragic sense of mortality that impels man to philosophize; there are rare women-philosophers. Speculation -- thinking about the spirit -- seems to be the mental preoccupation of men. Women may participate in such discussions, but eventually their concerns gravitate towards topics about babies, about clothes, about jewelries, about other women -- things that can be touched and seen and heard. Not that they are unfit for metaphysics, but that only the insecure are obsessed with things out of reach. Men cannot help talk about matters that give them assurance of their role and importance in the universal scheme of things. Women instinctively know their power and importance. Let men indulge in their insecurities; women will be around to give them solace and strength during moments of despair.
Women may drum up feminist movements demanding raised status in society. Theirs is the effort to wrest back from men the lost superiority of the matriarchs. If they prevail, we shall have come full circle. Men will again be relegated to the role of mere catalysts to latent lives. Men will then be relieved of the burdens of the world. And yet, wars that may be wrought by women will still be fought by men.

