The hollow echo of the cave (a post in which my Humanities degree exerts itself)

See human beings as though they were in an underground cave-like dwelling with its entrance, a long one, open to the light across the whole width of the cave.  They are in it from childhood with their legs and necks in bonds so that they are fixed, seeing only in front of them, unable because of the bond to turn their heads all the way around. Their light is from a fire burning far above and behind them...
...Do you suppose such men would have seen anything of themselves and one another other than the shadows cast by the fire on the side of the cave facing them?..
...Then most certainly...such men would hold that the truth is nothing other than the shadows of artificial things.  The Republic of Plato, 514-515c

I recently had a revelation, an epiphany of sorts.  For months, almost years now, I have attempted to explain natural parenting (natural birth including homebirth and midwifery care, breastfeeding, co-sleeping, babywearing, etc.) to more "establishment" parents, and never feeling like any communication was really successful.  It isn't just that we weren't agreeing - this wasn't some argument that was to be won or lost, but just discourse - it was that those who were firmly entrenched in the more established way of doing things seemed to truly not understand what I was saying at all.  It was like we were speaking totally different, unrelated languages.

The other day, it occurred to me: it's Plato's Myth of the Cave.  What I have seen of birth, of parenting, is so entirely different, so entirely foreign, it must be unbelievable.  "How can birth possibly be enjoyable?" I am asked.  How can I not resent my child for still nursing more than a dozen times a day?  How can we not find her continued presence in our bed not intrusive?

And if he once more had to compete with those perpetual prisoners in forming judgments about those shadows while his vision was still dim, before his eyes had recovered, and if the time needed for getting accustomed were not at all short, wouldn't he be the source of laughter, and wouldn't it be said of him that he went up and came back with his eyes corrupted, and that it's not even worth trying to go up?  And if they were somehow able to get their hands on and kill the man who attempts to release and lead up, wouldn't they kill him?  The Republic of Plato, 517a

Sadly, the response is not exclusively one of disbelief, but sometimes violent dislike and offense.  Rather than listening to one another, to hearing the truth behind each other's words, there is attack and defensiveness, on both sides of the debate as, unfortunately, the discourse and discussion has now become.

The truth behind the defense of unnecessarily medicalized birth is often fear.  Fear of the unknown, fear of loss of control.  Fear of our own bodies, our own humanity, even.  The truth behind the attack of the natural birther, the natural parent, may well also be fear: fear of constant criticism, fear of losing our resolve in the face of that criticism, fear of legal action as a result of our choices.

We must - we must - keep yelling into the cave, despite this fear.  Even if what we hear echoing back to us is distorted or unpleasant, we must: after all, there may be people in there looking to escape.