Many years ago, I had counselling to deal with some problems with difficult colleagues. Halfway through a session, the counsellor told me that I came across as a very meek person. In my head a voice roared – Meek? Me? I’m not f***ing meek? And indeed those who know me would probably describe me as anything but meek. However, when faced with adversity and exhaustion, I can retreat and give up.
I think about this overnight, fretting about the weekend leave issue. I realise I have become a little meek when faced with the clinic staff. I wait for their decisions about my daughter. But she is my daughter and sometimes I know better. She is not ill because we have a dysfunctional home or a poor relationship. She is ill because she is ill and this is in spite of the close relationship with her family and a happy home. I call the clinic and tell her primary nurse that I have an alternative proposal. L will come home on Friday lunchtime, go to her friend’s birthday weekend and come back home Saturday night. Real home, not clinic home. We will deliver her back Sunday night.
And of course, it is fine. The nurse confirms they only offer advice and everything is up to negotiation. We talk about why L is so low at the moment and agree it is probably because she has hit 50kg, a milestone in her head. She refused her fourth snack last night, a rare rebellion. It is a difficult balance between encouraging her to be assertive, but comply with instructions about food.
The meek are not blessed, they are just meek. Obedience and meekness are praised and celebrated by religion and politicians because they instil order and protect the status quo. The meek make no demands, have no sense of entitlement, just a sense of duty and knowing their place. We should wage war on ‘meek’ and realise that the truly blessed have a strong sense of their entitlement and the courage to fight for themselves and those around them.