What does it mean to Nurture?
“self care” is beginning to gain a
bit of cultural traction, but it is far
from mainstream.
As women, our task now is to
raise the profile for what it means
to be a nurturer. If we don’t
believe our skills in this area are
valuable, why should anyone else?
What we contribute to ourselves,
our partners, our children, our
friends, our parents, our coworkers, our siblings and our
neighbours matters.
The problem arises when we
try to compare nurture with
breadwinning. They are equal
tasks, yoked together with equal
weights and importance. Or at
least I yearn to believe this for
myself and to shout it from the
cultural rooftops, but
unfortunately we all live in a
society that values and honours a
six-figure income much more than
a happy, well-balanced home with
family members who feel loved,
cared for and supported.
I have done my job well as a
nurturer. I have built into my
children, my husband, my
community. And yet I struggle to
feel valuable because I cannot put
a dollar value to my efforts. I
don’t win awards for my work or
receive public accolades, bonuses
or acknowledgements. But that
doesn’t mean it’s not valuable or
valued. Compassion matters.
Investing in other people
takes time to unfold. It’s planting
in the spring to see a harvest in the
fall. It means riding out storms,
droughts, heat waves, wind, hail.
Patience and faith are required.
Our culture is not built for
process. We typically demand
results in each fiscal quarter. We
hear “You are only as good as
your last sale” which is horseshit
of the highest order (or utterly
ridiculous for a “PG” option). We
are human beings first and
foremost. It’s time to aim higher
than numbers on a spreadsheet.
Nurture is depth. It’s not
easily measured, but let’s not
forget its antonyms: deprive,
neglect, starve, ignorance. How
many of us feel that way in our
busy, rushed world? Could this be
a cumulative effect from not rating
nourishment (the root form of
nurture from the early fourteenth