Essay: Is Reductionist, Axiomatic Science A Masculine Disorder?


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“Science is based on the professional creation and certification of knowledge which is tied to powerful interest groups, notably the state, corporations and the scientific profession itself. Patriarchy is based on male control of dominant social structures and the exclusion of women from positions of power through means such as direct discrimination, socialization and the gender division of labor.

Patriarchy within the scientific community is manifested through male control of elite positions and various exclusionary devices. The scientific method incorporates masculine features such as the objectification of nature. Scientific knowledge is masculine in its neglect of women’s experience and its adoption of paradigms built on assumptions of competition and hierarchy.”-Jill Bowling and Brian Martin, Ph.D.

Here is another article from an expert! It’s longer but VERY interesting.

Science: a masculine disorder

I woke up this morning, after being hijacked by “a friend” on a thread yesterday and then territorially denigrated in the patriarchal tradition, pondering the question; “Is the scientific method itself horse-and-buggy, materialist, patriarchal B.S.? Is this possible? Before today, I pretty much supported it, although its methodology seemed very simplistic to me and not at all holistic. Was I the only one wondering if this might be true?

I wonder this because as a fifty-four-year-old female who is trained in science as far as needed in licensed health care, my intuition is as consistent and rational as anything I see or feel in this material world. I also listen to it. This phenomenon is mostly ignored, cynically scoffed at, and at best, not understood by most people including my ex-friend who has patently disrespected my intuitive read of the Mayan Harmonic for months now. He just now told me how much better he is than me which kind of says it all. It means he’s not.

My patients have confirmed my hands-on intuition with their bodies for fifteen years so it’s like breathing to me now. I put my hands on someone and I can feel everything that’s going on. Then they confirm it verbally after I tell them what I sense. Then I treat on the manifested body and they feel it again. I don’t feel it physically initially; I sense the energetic cause of the physical manifestation which is the cause of all illness; thoughts and feelings or vibrations then I assess and treat tactilely.

My ex-friend, who fancies himself a scientist, knows nothing to very little about the body and doesn’t even work in the sciences. I’ve made my living in healthcare for seventeen years. There are lessons to be learned by all. For instance, in the last week I’ve learned two lessons:

  1. It is unwise to only see the good in people when their shadow is blasting you in the face. They operate from cynicism and usage; not love, and you can feel it.
  2. Many men do not have intuition on their radar and if they do, they subjugate it for the purposes of patriarchal power (money and control) or addiction. They view intuition as feminized or sub-cultural which would weaken their position in society. Other cultures can follow their intuition but patriarchal men from all cultures do not. They only use and objectify women sexually and poor people economically, no matter how nice they may seem and politically correct with their rhetoric. It’s fake. It takes an experienced and trained eye and ear to see it. The first tip-off is, they never ask you how you are, and if they do, it’s not genuine. You can feel it.

“Long-term structural change in science must be predicated on changing the relations between men and women.”

This applies across cultures, all over the world. The real issue of disparity on the planet is between women and men all over the world and the rest of the issues follow. Women are still treated in a barbaric manner, especially the child bride phenomenon.

“Complementing this approach is that taken by those specifically focusing on the reasons why there are not more women involved in the sciences. Several writers have examined science education, particularly looking at the reasons why girls leave science in their school years. Following the observations that boys get more teacher attention and girls have less confidence in their ability, in Australia, there have been some experiments with all-girls science and mathematics classes.

There has also been an analysis of the way in which science is constructed to reflect male values and suggestions about how to create a different sort of science. Arditti, for instance, argues for a feminist perspective which “would re-introduce and re-legitimize the intuitive approach”.

If We’re Not Thinking in Dreams…


earth magnetic portals - hidden

They know by studying the brain that we are not “thinking” while we sleep.

If I’m not thinking, then where are the people, places, voices, words, events, and feelings coming from? It’s not exactly like watching a movie; it’s more like an opaque, frenetic cloud that’s really alive.

I’m free in my dreams to sit back or join in, to interact or be quiet without judgment. Waking life is a dream for me. All day, while I’m “awake”, I’m trying to go back to my dream state to remember how I felt, who I saw, and what happened. It feels like there is a whole other life full of etheric information for me there. Waking life feels like just a resonance is a type of magnetic can; the kind you string together.

Where did I go? I know it was a good place because it affects my day, depending on where I went that night.

I’m not saying I don’t like it here, on earth, but the other side does beckon somehow. I’m a bit glad of that for when my body is worn to a frazzle at one-hundred and four years old, my work is done, it will be easy to drift off and say, “My work here is done.  I’m out.”  My senses and my body still want to drink in all that earth has to offer though, right now.

Earth is fabulous, no matter how hard it can get here.

Prose; Sweet Earth


fall leaves

The smell of the grass, the trees, the fresh air in my lungs, the blood coursing through my body; that is sweet.

The physical presence of the soil beneath my feet and the sunlight in my eyes, that is true earthly sweet love and nurturing.

Humans aren’t there most of the time for each other anymore-especially when things are going well. Our culture has taken peoples time and minds from earthly awareness so that we are lucky to see each other for one hour a month if that.  I’m not going to make myself sick just so people will come running to me, keep me company, and nurture me while I lie there. How is that companionship? I thought people who loved you wanted to share good times with you, not just bad?

The earth and my body are there for me constantly and give to me all the time, even when I’m confident and feeling really happy. The Earth doesn’t abandon me when I’m happy or treat me like a barking dog because I’m a woman that speaks up! I honor and think of the earth all the time in return.

I’m in love with the Earth. That is my sustenance, healing, and love. I guess it will remain so until I’m done here.

 

Prose; Wanting to Be Right


very cool lemniscateWhy do we want to be right all the time?

Why do I want to be right most of the time?

Why do I glee over saying, “See, I was right!”

Because we doubt ourselves too much so we are reassuring ourselves by saying it.

Because others who doubt themselves doubt us and say it!

Because others project their experience of being shunned for being or doing something that was wrong, onto us.

Because “if you make a mistake, you are forgiven”, isn’t widely practiced.

So, now I try to catch myself and say, “Lisa, do what you feel, study what you feel, write what you feel and use the best skill you’ve got.  That’s all you can do.”  I’ve got a lot of skill and I’ve paid the piper so I have no reason to doubt myself.  Whether anyone will listen and understand has never proven to be plentiful. So what?

And now, when someone criticizes me harshly when I meant absolutely no harm and never do, I know that they have not forgiven themselves for being wrong or someone else has not forgiven them for being wrong or vice versa.

It closes the heart.

Wow, the feeling of being around someone with a closed heart and lots of conditions, or an open heart and few conditions, is night and day.

Prose; Dissolving


dissolving

Written 9/7/17 I remember writing this. It was a tough one. I was so tired of feeling used.

Dissolve people from my space that do not take care of themselves. I’m not your healer. I’m healing myself from victims and off-loaders. You heal yourself, I don’t heal you. That’s not my head trip, that’s yours.

Dissolve people from my space that think I should be on a saint pedestal just because I have integrity and do good in the world. I’m just a human being that refuses to tolerate certain energy just like everyone else. I’m SO happy to disappoint them when they compete with me when there is nothing to compete with. Everyone is different. Don’t compete with me. Read my book, then compete with the death and suffering that I never hold onto and know how to release. Dare you! No pity. That’s ego too. Compassion is all that’s called for; for me and yourself.

Dissolve people from my space that expect me to lead them into the light and refuse to do it for themselves. I’m not God nor do I want to be. Walk into your own light after I show you how!

Dissolve people from my space that say they care and then try to put me under their boot when they don’t know what they’re talking about.

Dissolve relationship with family members that don’t know how to let go of negative emotion and want me to be as dependent as they are. No. I don’t need to be.

Dissolve ties to people who walk late into a meeting they set up with me and immediately say, even before we begin, that they want nothing to do with me ever again after this meeting. REALLY!? Grow up. There is not going to be a meeting because you want to dominate, not discourse. I don’t work with people who want to dominate. I work with people who respect me enough to be my equal.

You want your power back?… I just handed it back to you because you erroneously gave it OVER to me when I never fucking asked for it!

Dissolve those who are always up to something, say they support you, then they vampire energy from you because they don’t take care of themselves.

Done. Dissolved. Happy to be just human. Happy to never, ever, ever want anyone to put me on a fucking pedestal just so they can try to knock me off to prove something to themselves.

You’re jealous of my strength and achievement? Then be jealous of the death, loss, vampiric sucking, hate, and jealous family to whom I courageously flip the bird to in order to get to this point. I know I deserve to be happy and abundant and not be surrounded by people that want to either worship me or destroy me for their selfish ego purposes.

Go away.

I’m just a human being with friends doing the work I love.

Prose; How the Light Changes


Written 9/5/17

leaves fallingOnce the sun comes up, the sun in my eyes charges my brain like a battery.

The position of the shadows on the wall meanders aimlessly to new places like a squirrel trying to find a home for his peanut.

The refraction off of the green leaves will meet its demise when the colors change and drop like so many ancestors on our family tree. Into the ground, they go.

We’re all soiled phantoms, you know.

One day full of light and life, and soon, the Earth reclaims us.

Do you know there hasn’t been one, single human body to escape this transformation?

What happens to our light and life, like that green leaf?

The light changes.

 

Prose; Rear View Mirror


rear view mirror

I was looking straight ahead, as usual, driving my car.

I very rarely look at the car behind me in my rearview mirror.

For some reason, this time I did.

She was alone in her car with sunglasses on.  I tried not to stare because somehow, I could tell she was upset.

I must have had my empathic radar on again because she looked normal for ten seconds.

I kept glancing back though.

Ok, now she was crying very hard.

I could tell by the shape of her lips as she was trying to control herself and wiping under her eyes beneath the sunglasses.

So many questions and pictures went through my mind.

Did she just get a call from the hospital that her son had gotten into a car accident?

Did one of her parents just die?

Then she started hitting the passenger seat and crying while we sat at the red light.

Being the kind of person I am, I wished I could let her know I wanted to reach out to her somehow.

When she got angry and hit the seat, that caused me to think her husband either asked for a divorce, she caught him with another woman, or her boyfriend text broke up with her.

Then the light turned green.

I wondered all of that, seeing something I’ve never seen before all in a space of forty-five seconds.

I hope she’s ok but I’ll never know.

Prose; Publishing Joy


I feel like my baby is about to go off to college.

I’m about to publish my first book and it’s almost time to let it go,

No longer able to control where it goes in the ethers,

Out into the world, warts and all,

Fresh, innocent, never having smelled a book store (yeah right)

Never having gone through the digital or paper mill…

Does that hurt?

My memories, feelings, occurrences, family secrets, pictures,

losses, dates, intimacies, grandparents, babies lost, tears cried,

Oh my god!!!!  Why did I write this memoir????

Stop the presses!  I can’t do this!!!!

I can’t put all of the truths of my life out into the public for perusal and criticism!

Not that anyone will care…but my life has been interesting hasn’t it?

I wrote it so it sounded interesting….yes I did.

Why did I listen to my FRIEND????  She said, “Lisa, write a memoir”

after hearing me tell stories.

Well, what if no one ELSE is the least bit interested?

This is nail-biting territory if anyone reads it.

I seriously do have many mind-bender stories.

What if people think I’m nuts?

There’s no such thing as bad press.

I’m just…a little nervous I guess.

impublishingmymemoir