whose footsteps?

Today nearly passed unnoticed until I heard some mention of it on the radio. I'm probably not the only one to have nearly ignored this day and its implicit pause to reflect, remember and perhaps revere women.

I googled International Women's Day and found that it has quite a long history. "Increasingly, International Women's Day is a time to reflect on progress made, to call for change and to celebrate acts of courage and determination by ordinary women who have played an extraordinary role in the history of women's rights." You wouldn't know it by the lack of attention, at least in my part of the world.

It had not escaped my attention, however, that March is Women's History Month and at our monthly journal gathering, I posed the question: Whose footsteps are you following? The free-flowing testimonials that came were heart-warming and inspiring.

I thought of my paternal grandmother Min, whose life was pretty much a hard-scrabble one. She raised three boys and tended to her husband (sounds like a pioneer woman, doesn't she?) through the Depression years and saw all three of her sons serve in and survive World War II. I found myself wondering what dreams she might have had as a young woman. Even as I called her up in my imagination, I realized that I really didn't know her. She was my "Gram" and I loved her for simply that (and her scrumptious baking), but I wondered if anyone had ever truly known her.

Poet and novelist May Sarton also came to mind. As much as any writer truly shares herself with her readers, I had been inspired by her "Journal of a Solitude." When I was lucky enough to meet her in person several years ago, I thanked her for showing me that it was possible to live an authentic life. (I was struggling in a job that was killing my spirit and I couldn't conceive of any alternative.) I was amazed when she told me -- with some amazement of her own that I'd missed it -- that "Solitude" had been about her own experience with depression.

Can you believe that I hadn't see that? I had instead read it as a chronicle of someone who had made her way in the world without compromising. No one's life is that uncomplicated, but it was how I'd interpreted it at the time. Maybe a part of me -- then shrouded in despair and lacking hope for my own circumstances -- had simply followed her story without consciously recognizing the parallels. By the time I met her, I'd amazingly left that creativity-stifling situation behind and needed to thank the woman who'd been a companion throughout that sometimes tortuous passage. What struck me at the time was just how small she was. I'd expected a large imposing woman, but there she sat: a huge spirit in a tiny body.

These women could not have been more dissimilar, at least in the outward details of their lives. Yet each inspired and instilled in me a perseverance and determination beyond hope that I could live an authentic life -- one that more truthfully reflected who I am. Well over a decade later, it's still a day-to-day experiment in living.

I appreciate having days or times like these dedicated to remembering, commemorating and reflecting. If not for Women's History Month, I might not have thought of the question...and certainly hadn't anticipate my answer. And if not for IWD, I might not have mentioned it here.

In whose footsteps are you walking?