The idea came that I could risk to write about women.  Writing about women as a man, especially when read by women is certain to provoke push-back.  Men never get away with opining about women unless they are speaking to men.   Within Nietzsche’s work Thus Spake Zarathustra, is a meditation entitled, Old and Young Women.    Nietzsche begins his ruminations with his character Zarathustra carrying wrapped beneath his coat a young child.  He says that the child is bundled to prevent it from crying aloud.  The child is held tightly so that it will not begin screaming loudly.

Nietzsche suggests that he is about to scream loudly by disclosing his thoughts about women.

I am about the scream loudly.

A foundational principle for Nietzsche: the survival of the individual as it has bearing upon the survival of the family, of the tribe, and of the species is the prime motivation for everything else.  Ethical principles, social norms, and just about any and everything that we’d label as “good” is motivated by the primal instinct to survive.  His conception of the essence of woman, and the female-male relationship is no exception.

Everything in woman is a riddle, and everything in woman comes down to one thing — it is called pregnancy.

Man is for woman, a means: the purpose is always the child.  But what is woman for man?

Two different things are sought by a man: danger and diversion.  Therefore he seeks a woman, as the most dangerous plaything.

Man shall be trained for war, and woman for the recreation of the warrior; all else is folly.

A delicacy that is too sweet— is not to the taste of a warrior.  Therefore he likes a woman; even the sweetest woman is bitter.

—Friedrich Nietzsche

Transposing these lines which were first composed around 1883, I am acutely aware of many possible interpretations.  The meaning that I gather from Nietzsche’s words is that a female is prepared by Nature for the great and noble responsibility of the custody of life.  A woman with a child is a grand image without parallel it seems to me.   Would I entrust the welfare of a young child to a guy with military training, outfitted in fatigues?  Something is dissonant about that image.

Many years ago I had the joy of involvement with a few male friends who campaigned a top fuel dragster.  The demands of drag racing, especially at that level are unforgiving. The laws of physics are hard-edged .  Play fast, loose, carelessly, and someone will be injured, or killed.  Get the fuel mixture just a little wrong, and the car, driver included, could go up in a ball of flame and flying parts.  It is akin to war.

There is Yin and Yang to life, call it what you will.  Danger and Diversion.  The given is rooted in Nature.  There are circumstances where much is at stake, one cannot afford to be wrong.  Nevertheless the risk of being wrong is embraced.

On the opposite hand is play, the counter concept of delight, abandon, of experimentation to see what happens.  Play is just as serious as its counter point.  Therefore “bitterness” is not glossed over in Nietzsche’s comment.  Great risk and great reward.  Losing at love is the enduring theme of endless love songs.

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On balance I have been lucky, fortunate to this point.  I have never lost at love.  Our Roman ancestors would have felt obligated to offer a sacrifice to the goddess Fortuna for past blessing.

I have fond memories of a remarkable mother.  The stories of her life still inspire me.  By shear luck I “fell-in-love” with a woman of resolve and we have managed to build a satisfying life together.  Two are superlatively better than one, under the right circumstances.  I cannot imagine what my life would’ve been like apart from Laura.

With these final comments I will introduce a youtube song written by and performed by Lukas Nelson: Georgia.  The last name may sound familiar.  Lukas is Willie Nelson’s son.  Lukas is a guitar-slinger in his own right.

Georgia

Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real

Well I sure as hell didn’t love her this much when I met her
Much as I was just captured again and again
She could turn her eyes away and still hold me under
A river of beauty and mystery pulling me in

And then when she told me her name I knew I would die slowly
I knew I was destined to live with this pain every night
For each night I stand with my father playing our music
We cry out her name and her memory under the lights

And each night I pray, I’ll forget about Georgia
She’ll never love me like I know a love’s supposed to be
Each night I pray, I’ll forget about Georgia
But a part of me hopes that she’ll never forget about me
Oh, a part of me hopes that she’ll never forget about me

We made love for the first time in a hotel in San Francisco
A night so perfect I try to forget about it now
And Ray Charles is singing her name like rain on my window
And I want to release her but I can’t begin to know how

So I say Ray, let me forget about Georgia
Because she’ll never love me like I know a love’s supposed to be
I say Ray, let me forget about Georgia
But a part of me hopes that she’ll never forget about me
Oh, a part of me hopes that she’ll never forget about me

So I say Ray, let me forget about Georgia
Because she’ll never love me like I know a love’s supposed to be
I pray, I’ll forget about Georgia
But a part of me hopes that she’ll never forget about me
Oh, a part of me hopes that she’ll never forget about me
A part of me hopes that she’ll never forget about me

Songwriters: Lukas Nelson