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Man stands with freshly picked flowers

The Ordinary Druze Woman

A man can only see what his mind is capable of knowing. Anyone who wishes to wed a Druze woman must himself be on approximately the same level as her. Carl Jung once said of a man, “nowhere can he see anything more than what he is himself.” 

We must therefore assume that if it is within a man’s means to find and marry a Druze woman, he himself must have a corresponding psychic blueprint in his percipient mind, and a discerning heart. And if he chooses another, then it is apparent what is not within him, nor within him to apprehend.

Permit here a simple analogy. Every year, billions of songbirds migrate thousands of miles to nest in the exact place they began their journey. This remarkable ability involves a magnetic map that works like our human system of coordinates. How they accomplish this extraordinary feat is not our immediate concern. But the more pertinent question is: why? 

It is well established that these creatures flock to places rich in resources to feed and breed. For humans, however, really differentiated from other animals by their minds, one could surmise that feeding a developing mind is only second to satiating a primitive appetite. The Druze man understands all too well the emphasis his forefathers placed on the mind. 

But what of the Druze woman? Of her, with whom better to share a life than someone who innately understands the origins and meaning of a Druze man? Who better than she who knows what reveries occupied his mothers heart and mind; and of what fabric composed the tapestry of his grandmother’s life? Our ancestral history of trials and tribulations, victories and defeats, joys and sorrows, lies deep in the dark shade of her eyes. 

We have said nothing of common heritage, culture, religion, community, tradition, morals, and values. Any attempt at serious discourse over these traits would be unnecessary for many and all but useless for others. Even prattle over classic tradition would not amuse the oblivious to humanity’s current state of disconnected and rootless consciousness.

To the unsuspecting, the Druze woman may look like any other charming European or attractive Mediterranean woman. But she has a well defined history walking side-by-side with the resilient, unshrinking, and courageous men that defended their families and land against woe or foe. This woman is the same today as she was a thousand years ago; her genetics tell the story. Her collective unconscious mind, sitting atop an invisible psychic blueprint etched into her biology like a pattern gives form to crystals. This provides a faint nuance of her kind that can only be realized over many years.

It is John Ruskin who once said, “The path of a good woman is indeed strewn with flowers; but they rise behind her steps, not before them.” The soil of history is rich that gave way to the beautiful flower-image we see in the ordinary Druze woman. For the Druze woman is just as ordinary in appearance as a rare diamond is among stones of cubic zirconia. Or should ‘ordinary’ be more appropriate in explaining the sights of a man that cannot see the earth from the nature which grows above it; cannot till the soil that nourishes a seed; cannot discriminate between scents among flowers.

What worries you, dear reader? That someone you know is beguiled by another flower outside our lands? What should vex one more is to bestow the hand of a Druze woman upon someone who’s unaided eyes do not really see her.

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