In Hinduism, Brahma, the creator, sits on a lotus. When he opens his eyes, the world comes into being, when he closes his eyes, the world goes out of being.
On one of those days when one is hovering between childhood and adulthood, my mother gave me a book of Tibetan photography. We poured over the stark, vibrant images together, many of which were of people.
Hours later, I slipped into Mom’s office to thank her. She was typing away, but she stopped when I came in and she said “Did you notice that in all of the photos, if the men weren’t herding their sheep, they were meditating? Bells blowing in the wind and mountain meadows and vistas spread out all ‘round… And the women were cooking and washing clothes and caring for children and laughing with each other. No meditating.”
I wonder if Brahma had been a woman if the world would have gone away when he closed his eyes.