Since I was a child I listened.
Listened with my whole being.
To the whispers of the earth.
To the breadth and pulse of creatures.
And soundless vibrations of plants and tide
as moon and sun dance across a horizon.
Since I was a child I listened.
To the voiceless cadence of humanity's heart
longing for an existence
they didn't know was here
imperceivable through analytically focused eyes.
Since I was a child I listened
with senses that exist beyond this body.
That come from a place within
where you and I are a living blur
whirling in a mass of cosmic color
to rhythms of ignited remembrance.
I loved her wildly. How could I not?! She birthed me. Raised me. Gave me breath, body, womb and life. She was THE ONE I wanted to shower my love upon more than anyone else.
And each time I connected to her from that vulnerable place so far down in my heart, I felt unlovability. It was a sensation so murky, dense and pervasive. It caused me to pull back, quick and fast, in to myself. Like a wild animal that hears a predator pacing nearby and darts for cover. My life depended on disconnection from my source of nurturance.
My life depended on disconnection from my source of nurturance.
Eventually I couldn’t see Unlovability as separate from myself. It wound its way deep into my blood and inside my bones. It sat smack-dab in the center of my brain. The relationships that wreck havoc on our heart provide a doorway to our liberation.
"That is why they are warriors of light. Because they fall. Because they ask questions. Because they keep looking for a meaning. And, in the end, they will find it." ~ Paulo Coelho
Who's Going to Save OUR World...?!
You are, my love.
And you. And you. And Him. And Her. And me. And that. And this. And those who know and feel, with their whole bodies and soul, that this is OUR world.
It's a world not for a select few. It's a world for US. The whole of us.
Our brothers and sisters. Children and kin. Families and individuals. Couples and clan.
It's for the next 7 generations. The creatures and wild things. Land and forests. Oceans and sky. The things we can't see. And the things we have yet to develop eyes to comprehend.
We're going to save the world, my love.
By caring about the most precious thing there is.
Us. Ourselves. Our hearts. The aches we've carried for lifetimes. The longings we've cradled deep in the darkness. The voiceless silence beckoning to be expressed. The wonders we've only caught a minuscule glimpse of. The magic we'll never be able to fully contain, but reach for it we are and must.
Our Beautiful Nightmare
My Sister and I were talking earlier in the week. She shared a story an elder told her, about a group of frogs trying to get out of their situation. They were attempting to climb up and away from the mud they'd been living in. Try as they might, they kept slipping and sliding down, causing quite a raucous. And one frog kept going. Finding his way up the embankment. Every time he turned around, he saw the commotion, mouths moving, bodies slipping, of his fellow frogs. And kept going.
As he reached the top, he turned to proclaim, "Look, I made it!". He wanted to beckon the other frogs onward. Yet the commotion and chaos of his clan continued. The thing about THIS frog... the one that made it out of the muck, was he was deaf. He hadn't heard a thing the other frogs were saying. And each time he had stopped and turned back, he thought they were cheering him on! Little did he know they were screaming about their situation. Falling in to the mud over and over.
I remember our conversation well.
I was lying on the bed. Breathing. Eyes drooping. Ready to drift in to restorative sleep. My body had been through a cycle of intense contractions which had now completely dissipated.
One of my midwives was there, sprawled on the bed with me. She'd come over a few hours earlier, wanting to be with us even if I wasn't in labor. She said she wanted to spend the night on our couch.
Here we were. A family, a midwife, a beloved child readying to be born. Creation. Becoming.
I'd been through labor what felt like many times before. And this time, this 3rd time, felt like something I'd never gone through. And as any woman will tell you, weeks before she goes in to labor, weeks before she greets that moment when baby, body, mother and creation birthing itself, all co-exist in mutuality, is when she dies and is reborn. Through labor, every woman greets the invitation to lay down everything she was, thought she was, and believed she could be. Here she finds herself at the threshold of her own irrational becoming.
A child's birth brings with it the creation of a new woman, a mother, a family, the new earth and all that is possible. Birth brings the beauty of what IS possible.
How often do you hear or have internalized these messages, “Be seen.” “Get out there.” “Claim your space.” “Be bold.” “Be brave.” “Reveal what you’ve got!”
In my Sisterhood Mentorship Circle, we were recently sharing what we’ve painfully believed about ourselves. And began speaking about our deepest hiding.
For many women, a sense of hiding, not being met by the outer world, not being acknowledged for what lives WITHIN, is a common feeling. For centuries women have been tucked away, out of the spotlight. And collectively we’ve judged this and tried to fit in to an external model of fulfillment. But what happens when we listen to our bodies and truth, and discover something profound and liberating about the natural wisdom of our hiding?!
We’ve been hidden by the natural order for important and valid reasons.
We’ve been hidden because we’ve known an intimacy with creation that this world has had no idea is even real. Has had no idea is even real!
I know nothing MORE brave, bold and instinctual than allowing nature to unfold through us as it will. Then allowing life to keep revealing as creation itself, without forced directive.
Breathe and feel how this touches you, my love. Breathe.
These days, so many of us feel a dynamic shift imploding from within, and are drawn like flowers to make our way above ground. And here we’re so often told any sense of hiding has been wrong. Who wouldn’t crawl back in, down and away?
I was thinking of cancelling.
But we had scheduled the date several weeks before.
And the truth was, my body and soul ached. For deep connection with my sisters. With the primordial Feminine that arises and envelops as we sit in the container of the whole with each other in reflection.
I'd beckoned some of my closest female friends to be with me, in celebration of my birthday. Women who'd walked beside me through the fires, over and over again.
We were getting together to honor this season of great transition in my life, and this passage of sacred blossoming in all of our hearts. Going ever deeper in to that uncharted place that longs only to know Herself most fully.
And the week leading up to our sisterhood time... I got sick. And EVERYONE in my family got sick. And my husband developed kidney stones. And he never gets sick! He never gets sick.
And it felt like we were going through a massive labor... just like giving birth. And there was so much doing. Laundry. Cooking. Dolling out herbs. Running to the store. Running another bath. Just so much doing.
I was worn down.
Sharon lives by the guidance of her wild heart. And supports humanity in listening to the Feminine Soul of the Earth. Entrusting ourselves to the power and beauty that creates all life from deep within.