Cindy on the Subject of Periods

I have an unusual proposal for you. And it’s not your average ordinary garden-variety unusual proposal either. It’s slightly over the edge. However, as my one man legal department is fond of pointing out, that’s never stopped me before. So here goes.

My new staff Gyno-Gal would like to invite you to share your thoughts about menstruation.

That’s right. Cindy would like to hear what you have to say about periods, menses, flow, tampons, mini-pads, maxi-pads, puberty, sexuality, cravings and or anything else that relates to the great monthly cycle of female fertility upon which civilization depends. Cindy can be reached at MyPeriod@Gmail.com where she will read and consider your comments for possible publication. Come on gals lets start a Global dialog about the still oft-“forbidden” subject of menstruation. In turn, I hope that the conversation will encourage women to spend some time learning about safer medical and consumer choices they can make. I am seeking to promote a dialogue that we hope will result in the knowledge and wisdom women need to live longer and healthier lives.

Short story. Haiku. Teenage memoir. Interior monologue. Comedic masterpiece. Childhood reminiscence. Doggerel. One-act play. Character study. Minor essay. Major treatise. There are no right or wrong submissions. Except for the request that your words address the subject of menstruation in some small way, we wish to dictate no terms about what you might write. No rules. No restrictions. No limits. Just a chance to play and a place to communicate where you can share your creativity while supporting a worthy social and environmental project.

Email me at: MyPeriod@Gmail.com

The Precautionary Principle

One of the most promising and important environmental ideas to emerge in recent years is something called the Precautionary Principle, a revolutionary new philosophy with the potential to become an ecological silver bullet for the 21st century.

The Precautionary Principle was created in 1998 at a landmark meeting of scientists, government officials, lawyers, labor activists and grass-roots environmental leaders at a conference center in Racine, Wisconsin. Unlike most proposed solutions to our current environmental challenges, it was developed not in response to any specific issue but as a universal answer to the general mindset that many feel is largely responsible for environmental problems in the first place. Here’s what it says in part:

"When an activity raises threats of harm to human health or the environment, precautionary measures should be taken even if some cause and effect relationships are not fully established scientifically. In this context the proponent of an activity, rather than the public, should bear the burden of proof. The process of applying the Precautionary Principle must be open, informed and democratic and must include potentially affected parties. It must also involve an examination of the full range of alternatives, including no action."

Behind these words lies a simple rule each of us uses everyday: Look before you leap and proceed cautiously if you decide to take the plunge. On the face of it, that’s hardly a revolutionary idea. What is unique about the Precautionary Principle, however, is the fact that it runs so contrary to America’s traditional regulatory approach to pollution and other environmentally harmful activities. Historically, regulators have allowed companies and individuals to "shoot first and ask questions later." They’ve assumed that any given activity is problem-free until someone steps forward (usually after the fact) with proof that a problem exists. This innocent until proven guilty strategy naturally tends to favor commercial interests over public health and creates a system that places an unfair and often prohibitively expensive burden on the public, which must definitively prove that something is dangerous before governmental action will be taken to stop it.

Given the large number of widespread environmental troubles we’re currently experiencing, it’s clear that such an approach simply doesn’t work. The Precautionary Principle replaces this faulty reasoning with simple logic that says it’s far safer, simpler, and more preferable to prevent a mess in the first place than it is to clean one up after it’s been made. When any doubt whatsoever exists about whether or not a proposed human activity might cause environmental degradation of any kind now or in the future, we must err on the side of caution, and ask that those who seek to engage in that activity to refrain until they themselves can prove to the satisfaction of government agencies and the people alike that it’s thoroughly safe to proceed.

Menstruation 101: Finding The Square Root of A Period

Me, and my period. We met when I was 9 or 10. Let's go with 10, because I'm not fond of math. I'm 35 now. In my career as a menstruator, I've used probably... oh no, here comes the math... Okay, first of all, I've always preferred disposable pads over tampons - I can't accept leakage and would rather suffer intentionally bulky pants over unintentionally bloody pants. So I'll be examining my contribution to our proud landfills. If I average 5 days per cycle, and 2 pads a day, and work that out from age 10 to 35... (So, 25 years - I've had my period for 25 years. a THAT'S not something I think about every day!) Let's see... 12 months in a year, times 25 years is... (If there were 25 months in a year, I'd KNOW the answer because, don't ask me why, my dear old dad made me memorize 25x25=625 when I was a kid, but that doesn't help me here.) 12x25 is 300 - 300 months in 25 years. 5 days a month, that is 5x300=1,500 days. And I said 2 pads per day, so... If I've done the math correctly, I have tossed away 3,000 bloodied pads in my lifetime, plus or minus. Did you ever use pads? What do you think is the smallest size you were able to roll them up into? I am looking around on my desk for something that can represent the smallest roll I ever achieved; I have a bottle of essential oil (orange - yum) that looks possible... no, definitely too small. A pantyliner maybe, but not the mattresses that I've employed. My padlock from junior high - that could work. It's approximately 2-1/2" x 1-1/2". Let's make that 2"x2" (again, for ease of math). Multiply THAT bye 3,000, and my legacy is 6,000 square inches - 500 square feet of bleached white cotton, plastic, and dry weave. That's a studio apartment. That's disgusting! And I'm ashamed. When I turned 30, I bought a Keeper, but it's never really worked very well for me. It leaked, and I was always very aware of its presence. So I continued to use disposable pads. Last year, I decided to invest in reusable cloth pads, and you know, I will never go back. I don't resent my period the way I have in the past. Flakey as this is, I kind of feel now like I own my period, and I honestly enjoy being responsible for it. It feels good, which is a beautiful thing to be able to say about my period. I mean, if you're going to have a 25+ year relationship with something, you might as well feel good about it.