When we think of masculine and feminine, we think of boundaried categories. That it’s either one or the other. But think about gender in terms of diaphanousness. Like a gauzy veil or swirling mist. In some places it’s thick and opaque, but in other places it’s barely there.
And what if in some instances, it was the masculine that was the backdrop and the feminine that was the mist, but in other instances it was reversed? Why not? Because in our world the backdrop is also illusory.
One could be “facts” and one could be “feeling”; one could be ego and one could be spirit.
And what if it isn’t just them dancing around each other, but within and through each other as well? That place where electrons are as far away from the central proton in the same ratio as planes fly above the ground.
So the meeting of the masculine and feminine could be as light and delicate as the touch of a feather, or as intense as a meeting of two cars at speed.
And I’m not talking about men and women. But I could be, I guess. I’m really talking about our own inner masculine and inner feminine.
My mind thinks in metaphors like this. It’s how I test and stretch my trains of thought, how I develop an idea into new territory. You can legitimately think of this as feminine science, or right brain science.