Standing in front of a glass sliding door. Moonlight streaming in. I’d come downstairs before the sun. Wrapped a long sheer scarf around my body. My bare feet stood atop a black sheep skin poised in the center of the room.
I turned the music on. Quiet. Not to wake anyone.
And began to feel it. Slow and deep. Generating from somewhere between my hips. Pulsating. Circling out from my pelvis. Traveling down my arms. Radiating throughout my belly. Into my legs.
I began to sway. Eyes closed. Head tossed back.
And couldn't stop caressing my own skin. Slow and sincere.
Weeping at the beauty I could feel
inside my own flesh.
This dance wasn’t about anyone or anything outside me.
Nor was my nudity a seductive enticement.
It was about me.
And my connection to the universe.
To the raw force of my aliveness. And the darkness of the sky. The glowing moonlight.
I still somehow remembered.
Photo from The Nest Project, with Debbie Baxter and the Owl Salon
Remembered a time living at my home in the woods.
I was awakened in the night by a magnetic force that drew me to the back room.
Standing naked before a full-length window. Dancing with the moon as my partner.
I remembered the way my body came alive. To a feeling and rhythm pulsating from within. It was also being reflected from without. From the pull of the moon. And Her black mighty sky. And the mystery that lay entangled between the cosmos and my own flesh.
It was that intimate. And personal. And seamless.
It was a moment I will never forget.
I was alive to all Life. Pulsating. Coursing. Making love to the universe with one breath.
Standing before another window now.
During another moon cycle. Another season in my own life. On this night. I felt it.
My breath quickened.
Was the cosmos calling me alive?! Was I breathing creation into being in this moment?!
I’d been lost and lifeless. Adrift for an eternity. My usual sustenance no longer worked or fueled me.
I’d been in a cycle of death and destruction.
Growing intimate with the wisdom and responsibility of dismantling. Decomposing. Dissolving.
Learning to welcome breath from alternate reserves.
I hadn't known who or how to be when I wasn’t creating.
Not known what my purpose was when I wasn’t focused on my connection to the deeper meaning and value of my life.
I’d said good-bye to creating.
To being guided. Inspired.
I’d said good-bye to the most intimate relationship I’d known with my sense of universal order, harmony, home, forest, tree and land.
I’d said good-bye to my father. To the Sacred Masculine I was born from, in form.
Feeling the earth move below my feet as something released I didn’t see coming.
I'd said good-bye to my inner wild fire.
Letting it simmer, settle, die down. And rest beneath something I had no name or sense of.
And now… naked before the moon, I heard a whisper.
It said one word, “Create.”
I breathed it in.
A little too deep and quick at first.
And responded. More to myself than anyone else, “Really?!!”
“Really? Now? Is it time to create again? Can I? Do I even know how?!”
With tears in my eyes I heard the voice again, “The only Yes! that is required is yours.”
I exhaled. And lay down on the black sheepskin rug.
Letting its softness envelop every bone, attachment and fragment in my body.
I breathed. Until the first light of morning broke through.
And I could see my flesh with my own eyes.
Feminine Alchemy Immersion ~
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.