I know it’s something important when R. calls me on my cell phone, especially since she’d prefer to avoid talking on the phone altogether.
R., if you recall, phoned me a few months ago about my root chakra. It was an urgent call and the kind of call that only a best friend could make, and this day was no different, as I heard my phone ring while pulling into a parking space at Target.
“You need to learn to walk with your vagina,” R. says matter-of-factly as I turn off my car.
“Say what?”
“I’m reading a book on the goddess within. You’re too masculine. You need to get in touch with your feminine side.”
I ponder this for a minute. I like eyeliner and fuss with my hair, as you all know. I feel feminine. Most of the time. I think.
“And walking with my vagina is the answer to this problem?”
“It’s part of it. At least it’s a start. Changing your walk will change your energy, and as you change your energy, your masculine/feminine sides will balance.”
“What exactly is involved with this walk?” I ask.
“Hips, honey, hips,” R. explains. Pretend you’re Shakira.
I practice in my kitchen. I walk across the room with my hips jutted out slightly and I sway from side to side.
As I sashay across the Pergo, I think to myself, Is this how being a woman is supposed to feel? Because it feels so awkward.
I call R. “Are women born knowing how to do this?
“It’s not coming easily for you, is it?”
“No!”
“I’m not surprised.”
“It doesn’t feel right at all!”
“Take it a little at a time,” R. says.
I practice. I practice and practice. The walk just doesn’t feel comfortable.
“There is nothing natural about this walk,” I whine to R. one night on the phone.
“That’s’ because you’re too much of a man,” R says. “It's time to take off your man pants, girl. You know, get a neighbor’s husband to mow the lawn for you or shovel your sidewalk when it snows.”
“I can shovel my own sidewalk,” I interject.
“That’s just it. You need to learn to be a little more of a damsel in distress. “
“I have no patience for that damsel stuff. If I need to something done, I’ll get it done myself.”
“And that’s precisely why you can’t walk with your vagina,” R. counters.
“So what are my choices?” I ask. “Can you be shocked into the vagina walk? Is there vagina biofeedback or vagina hypnosis for people like me?”
“I’m sure there’s help for you out there,” R. says with encouragement.
“I know!” I say, “Maybe they have vagina retreats. Like a vagina boot camp intensive.” I recall the South Park episode where Cartman gets his period and goes on the men’s weekend.
(Was that not the funniest episode ever – OK – maybe next to the J Lo Ben Affleck one…) and bangs on drums and talks about his feelings. They must have some kind of getaway for women in my predicament.
“I’m not sure.” R. shoots me down. “You and I are both believers in doing the work. The vagina boot camp sounds more like a quick fix.”
I haven’t intentionally practiced my walk in quite a while. But I did ask for help with my luggage during a recent hotel stay. And one day during the holidays, I asked a worker at a store to help me get a large purchase into my car.
It’s progress, right?
And for me, that progress is literally one step at a time.
Are you in touch with your masculine/feminine sides?
Are they in balance?
What’s your walk like???
Where else to find me:
