Woman as Teacher.

I spent several hours last night listening to the music of the female voice singing many and varied songs in many and varied styles. And my, how it took me back through the hour glass of my life, there to remember and reflect on my principles, my standards, my values, my passions, my primal drives. And how sadly wanting I so often found myself to have been.

This was going to be a long post about the monkey from the Id and the angel from the Super Ego working reluctantly in tandem to set me down onto a road leading from the thrilling heat of addiction to the searing heat of perdition’s flame. But then I decided it would be a step too far on a public platform, so I’ll leave it there.

But here’s something interesting which I am prepared to reveal:

All my life I’ve held promises to be sacrosanct. I once subjected myself to the direst torment rather than renege on a promise I’d made in a rash moment some weeks earlier. I’ve always believed, you see, that promises are pointless unless you honour them. I still do, but here’s what’s odd.

One day I got married, and then six years later I succumbed to the charms and advances of an attractive young female colleague in the office where I worked. And do you know what? It never occurred to me that my marriage vows amounted to a promise. I thought of them as being merely a formality through which you had to pass in order to get the certificate. I really don’t know whether that was evidence of a blind spot in my perceptions or an unconscious hiding from standards in pursuit of adventure. But isn’t it also interesting that when another woman, a little further down the line, asked to be released from her promise, I agreed readily?

So here’s a health to the women who taught me so much. And for what it’s worth, I offer my sincere apologies for any grief I caused them. I do feel pretty bad about it sometimes.