I want to see more sisters celebrating the masculine in his heart and in his truth. I long for the feminine to be so joyous in her rapturous ecstasy claiming that He too is love. I pray for women to feel so safe and secure around our brothers that the pain of our ancestors can finally be laid to rest.
When will we all see that we need each other? Realise that the barbaric programming of the enslavement forefathers is not the person who stands before us, or next to us, or in our beds but simply an inherited memory that still haunts.
I want to see more brothers actively defending women in all places, it's not that we cant do it on our own but if we joined forces we would be unstoppable, a team you and I becoming; we. We know that not all of you are our murderers and our rapists but you hold that guilt in your psyche and it weighs you down. I know that you grimace when a sister crosses the road or avoids your eye contact.
It's not fair, it's not. Now that that's been said I hold my hands open and say 'I too am sorry' for we are also responsible for forgetting who we are, for making you think you are our source when in doing so made all of us incomplete. We created this together, no matter who is to blame I say let's create something better.
You see we are at the end of a long road, chosen now to pave another. We have wept many thousands of years and wish only for your truth to be told. No brothers and fathers should have to break under this heavy load, it's not a war against 'them' but it's been a war within, against the feminine aspect of you. Taught to deny and shut down, but the truth is boiling over with no return.
Please brother, reach for your gold.
I asked my womb blood what she was processing? "Everything" she said. She told me how today's pain was in the alchemical simmering of my vast feminine void.
How that all women who bleed are interwoven across the planet, lighting up with a web of ancient consciousness whereby we are in service to the Earth and all those on her. Our blood gives back life to that which needs replenishing, nurturing, love and forgiveness.
Women who bleed purify their environments through these dark waters of the womb, vacuuming up their lovers intentions both conscious and unconscious, whether it be their love or whether it be their pain.
She takes on the emotional load of not only those close to her, her children and her family but also what has come into her awareness, be it in her neighbourhood or something from the news.
Each woman is a grid point in her community anchoring in this holy rite, returning all that she has processed through the month back to the Earth alchemising it all through her body. Her womb space is a cauldron of the universe, a physical manifestation of primordial feminine magic.
Her blood is not dirty but full of life codes and stem cells, it literally takes all intentions and births it into creation. I imagine the work that we are in the midst of currently endeavouring as modern women, and that is the remembering and reclaiming of this feminine sacredness.
Long may we know it.
Long may we share it.
I share my own initiations, never anything that has not been granted through me. I speak words of my own wisdom and my own gnosis.
Many times my writings trigger conversations along the themes of exclusion, how dare I speak of my womb or my blood when there are those without this organ? How could I speak of my sexual pleasure when I have endured sexual trauma and others are still navigating theirs? Why do I speak as a vessel of a balanced feminine woman, what about the men?
I say time and again that it is because its through YOU that these topics must be heard. If you are in a place experiencing that which triggers you, then let your message be heard - this is your purpose! Until I have been initiated into these passages, I could never bring my congruency or authenticity into these subjects.
One day I will be a crone, and perhaps my blood will have flowed within, instead of out... and only then will I share of this passage. In this now I share from my place as a mother, a creative juicy sexual mother, one who bleeds. Through these messages, this is what I share
The beloved is never lost, and they reveal themselves in form as a projection of your inner polarity, without judgement, exactly where you are, as you do too.
As a feminine woman my own experience of this game we call life, was to be stripped of sovereignty through great love, to have it hidden under my nose by the beloved in all his shapes, forms and guises, as I find and reclaim it for myself.
I bow my head in reverence to the beautiful masculine presence in my life. We have travelled galaxy after galaxy, dancing between stars, swinging between the electric leading energy and the magnetic receiving energy of the ever entwined masculine and feminine energies.
Through this hologram of life, those we love gift us pathways of exploring and claiming our own mastery. At times our game of hide and seek seem unbearable as we witness what 'is' through a lens not where we 'are' of our inner world but through the outside polarity projection.
I have ran and have hidden, I have inflicted pain only for it all to find me again. So this year there has been no choice but to surrender to loves greatest longing.
And the greatest longing is union. Union within and without. As I return home over and over to myself, I see how my longing wants to live unashamedly through me, to be embodied in my entirety.
My longing is the great destroyer of suffering and the sweetest dance of ecstasy.
We are a team, a partnership of the divine and we hold each other in holiness. As my eyes look at this photo with myself and my beloved, my body knows that I am safe, that our union has been kissed, and I am humbled by my own longing of union.