There is a long winding country road between my house and my grandmother’s. When I drive it, I roll the windows down and open the sunroof and let the wind wash my worries away. As the blues and greens of the mountains roll by, I marvel at all the little houses, some quite old, and the small farms, and the birds who keep themselves busy near the road.
 
It’s a paved two lane road nearly the whole time, save this one particular patch of road which is dirt and a little more narrow. I press the breaks and slowly drive that piece of road, always noticing the nice corn & tomatoes crops growing on the flat land near the road, and sometimes, I even catch a glimpse the couple who lives there, tending the crops. I imagine they’ve been tending those crops together for 50 years, then say a silent prayer that my husband and will be side by side, and as vital and engaged with the Earth when we are their age.
 
Before long the dirt road turns to pavement again and I press the gas to continue on. I’ve always wondered about that patch of dirt road.
 
My husband came home from the Farmer’s Market recently, bursting: Babe, you know that little patch of dirt road, right near where the little old couple lives? I have a story you are gonna love! 
 
Apparently, years ago, as with so many now-paved roads, that long and winding country road had been all dirt. As with so many now-paved roads, this change was decided, by people who did not live on that road.
 
The story goes that when the paving machines reached the edges of her home, Doris laid her body down on the road and would not budge. No matter what machines hovered over her, no matter who came to try and “reason” with her, there she laid – rain or shine, day in, day out.
 
Until eventually, the city gave up and worked around her and her property.
 
Go Doris.
 
Now I don’t know exactly what it was that bothered Doris about the pavement, but I can make a few guesses. Doris probably didn’t want cars speeding by her home, making noise, putting birds and animals and kids in danger. Maybe she didn’t want the hard pavement plastered over the face of land she obviously loved so much. Maybe she saw the world trying to make everything faster and easier and she said, Not here, not on my little patch of Earth. Maybe Doris knew something about the pace of nature.
 
I think about Doris a lot, especially recently. There is so much happening in this world, decided by people so disconnected from land and place, so committed to empire which has an insatiable hunger for faster, more, now, that makes me feel like laying my body down in the road and saying No.
 
There is a line in Women Who Run with the Wolves that reads: If you have yet to be called an incorrigible, defiant woman, don’t worry, there is still time. As we talk about in Circle Leader Training quite a lot – many misunderstand where the defiance of a wild woman is rooted. A mature Wild Woman is not rebellious for the sake of causing a fight, for fun or for sport, a mature Wild Woman is an Earth protector, who lives by a value set in alignment with nature. Her defiance has more to do with consciously and courageously protecting what she loves than fighting for fighting’s sake. Her defiance is sacred and rooted in the body of the Earth, making it a formidable force.
 
We forget our power sometimes. We let our want to not upset or disappoint anyone get in the way of wielding it.
 
Inside us all lives the spirit of Doris, who knows what she loves and values, and who as Dr. Estes writes, is willing to stretch out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach.
 
Be Doris.
Your Turn
 
In the comments below (and/or in the privacy of your own heart), please answer:
 
What do you value so much, that you’d protect it, 
even at the (relatively small) cost of being considered defiant or incorrigible?
 

On the Horizon

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