Sexy Moms Like Cleopatra

For Mother’s Day, let’s remember Cleopatra who became even more powerful when she had children. It’s a little different today when parenthood enhances a man’s career but detracts from a woman’s.

Cleopatra: A Life by Stacy Schiff

When my book club read Cleopatra: A Life by Stacy Schiff, we were blown away by how Egypt and nearby nations bowed to Cleopatra’s empire-building. She followed in the footsteps of Alexander the Great.

I wished I lived at a time when motherhood was empowering and sexy. It was a part of their religious life. The universe of Ancient Egypt was ruled by sexy goddesses like Isis – earth mother, sensual creature, healing presence, happy lover.

“Motherhood not only enhanced Cleopatra’s authority…but solidified her links with the native priests,” Schiff says.

One problem in the Christian tradition is that our model for motherhood is a passive, ever-suffering, homebound Mary, not an active, sexy, pleasure-seeking adventurer. In the Christian tradition, motherhood does not solidify our spiritual place among the priests.

We need more Isis.

I don’t know about you, but I’d like to believe motherhood has made me more powerful and sexy, not submissive and virginal.

Reading Cleopatra reminded me that this time is not the only time. We can find new archetypes from other traditions and times when mothers had power.

And style. Like sometimes I wonder — am I destined to wear stretch waistband pants from Coldwater Creek? No, I can wear sexy togas and jewel-encrusted snake armbands like Cleopatra did.

What am I saying? Tying up a toga is exhausting. Motherhood is exhausting. Most modern mothers are too tired to be sensual and too preoccupied with children to care about empowerment or sexuality.

On that happy note, Happy Mother’s Day! To celebrate, I think I’ll go clean a bathroom. Or maybe I’ll just read a book and fantasize about a time when being a mother imbued an already powerful woman with even more power.

Benignly Neglectful Mother/Father

The vacuum was in the vestibule on Saturday night at the First Church in Ticonderoga. I know because I snuck in the church through the unlocked front door.

Still, I felt I was sneaking up to God when God was supposed to be off-duty. Like a kid, trying to get Dad’s attention when he was reading the newspaper.

“Kid, I’m off duty,” God said.

WHY, oh WHY is God always someone like Fred MacMurray in humorous and artistic representations? A benignly neglectful father? I remember reading and discussing “A God Who Looks Like Me” by Patricia Lynn Reilly when we had that book discussion group at lunchtime at 475 a few years ago. Such a great group of women we were. And it was a powerful idea that God could look like me. Or you. Or someone other than Charlton Heston.

I invited my daughters to join me in the church. Cath was reading/listening to “The Graveyard Book” on the Kindle and Char was braiding a friendship bracelet. They declined.

Somehow I felt like I was trespassing, visiting this church at such an odd hour. I liked this small 1970s-type church. I think one of the best parts of visiting a church a day is embracing the quiet, the stillness regularly.

I have really enjoyed sinking into the quiet of an empty church.

We had stopped in Ti, after dropping my Mom at the airport in Albany and visiting Nancy and Nancy on their porch. The girls got excited by the porch, the hummingbird, the samples of herbs we tasted from the garden. I was glad to see Nancy L. looking well.

To read about Nancy L’s health journey, check out the blog at:  http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/nancyjlaw/journal?jid=5987205

I prayed in the Ti church for everyone who is fighting an illness.

But I found it difficult to pray, distracted by knowing two of my children were waiting for me in the car. I thought, “At least, I’m not running into a bar. It’s just a church.” I wondered if they’d look back at their childhood and say, “Mom left us in the car while she ran into a church to pray.”

I felt benignly neglectful. I knelt at the communion rail for a quick sec.

Then I was out of there. I was driving the car again. I was thinking about dinner.