Quince and Courage
The strong visual
language of quince intrigues all who encounter them, whether on my tree or
dining table. This ancient fruit – who was most likely the true “apple”
of ancient times – holds forth with earthiness and energetic originality. Hers
is a lovely mantra: “Unabashedly I dare being myself.” Perfectly imperfect. Each fruit grows into a
splendid golden yellow globe, and inhabits its uniquely sculpted shape with quiet
vibrancy.
Quince is a queen. Unapologetic. Self-assured. Gnarly. Bold.
In all of her aspects, she emanates a true beauty. Her perfumed fragrance is
delicate, her unusual taste multi-layered, tart, sweet, unexpected. Being a
wise old woman healer, she makes herself useful as medicine. This year my
quince tree carries an abundant early harvest. Very happily, I allow the
treasures to fill the living room with Quince-ness. And I start cooking batches
of quince compote – no sugar added, just a bit of rum, cognac, or Damiana
liqueur – delicious with yogurt, oatmeal, meat, vegetables, or by itself.
Quince is the opposite of a quiet timid follower. Everyone will notice her,
admire her, and she is okay with that. She remembers stories of blooming as a
delicate flower, her time of enchanted youth, sensuality and ripening. Now she
is a fulfilled grandma, contemplating life. Courageously herself.
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Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, Quince was an extraordinarily
pretty young girl. Shy, but vivacious, adventurous, single minded. Her life
took many turns. Life shaped her, made her complex, rich and exquisite. All that
she has experienced and lived through now resides inside of her. The storms, cold,
wind, snow, rain, hail, heat. Attacks by and dialogues with squirrels, rats,
racoons, jaybirds, bees, moths. She knows her vulnerabilities. She is a survivor, and sister,
a mother, aunt, friend, story teller. She speaks out against all injustice, cruelty,
and abuse. She has practiced
transforming her wounds and sufferings into blessings, strength, and wisdom.
She will not be silenced. Her voice is clear, and commanding, she is not easily
intimidated. She will fight when needed. Stand up for herself and her sisters, her children, those weaker than her. For us humans, Quince's essence is palpable in her
titillating taste, and delicate perfume. Revered and honored, Quince is the female fruit of our
times.
This past week, we witnessed a group of women taking center
stage in Washington DC right outside the White House, getting attention from congress men and women, and the media. These Survivor Sisters are brave. They are putting their
lives on the line, demanding justice and accountability. They dare to come
forward, agreeing to be seen and heard. Giving public statements and in-depth
interviews about their ordeals as under-age teenagers, being groomed,
exploited, abused, raped and trafficked. Showing us surprising strength,
composure, maturity, intelligence, resolve, honesty. Each speaks in her own
words, in her own language. Just the way I describe the quince queen
above.
This is not about left or right, small or tall, queer or
straight, poor or rich, politics or sex scandal, quince or apple. For the sake
of our grand-daughters, no more business as usual. A major shift is needed:
nobody is above the law. The Survivor Sisters’ plight is about Human
Rights. We all are either enablers, collaborators, bystanders, or we are
upstanders and protectors. If we stand in solidarity with Immigrants,
Palestinians, Trans people, we must also stand with our Survivor Sisters.
We cannot let violent, cruel, entitled rapists and bullies rob us of dignity,
life, and respect. We are neither property, nor plaything, nor possession. The
shame is not on the Survivor Sisters, the shame is on the billionaire
abusers. We will not be silenced by the powerful. All men and women are created
equal. The words and promise of the American constitution. Yet unfulfilled….
Survivor Sisters – Thank You
Courage is Contagious
Ancient usefulness
of quince
For those who did not catch it in the
news:
Here my Gisèle
Pélicot essay from Dec 31, 2024
Last Year Only Three
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