We return to the magic of the shadows to recharge, growing our wild medicine with steady hands, the crescent Moon shining between our brows.
We are not evil, nor have we ever been. The tales of the patriarchy only veil us as such attempting to taint our gifts with fear and lies.
We who craft with rock, Moon, herb and branch breathing blessings into the sky. We who are the weavers of nightsong and Earth healing. We who commune with the animals hearing their messages and guidance.
We go by many names.
Shamaness, wise woman, witch, priestess.
Once they stood for healing, connection with nature and ancient wisdom. They meant hope for those who needed aid, guidance in times of peril.
But these names have been twisted by the system that would keep us hidden and our voices silent. They were painted through the ages with stories that cast down the medicine of the feminine and her wild knowing.
We are here to reclaim our truth.
We come from the stars, the sea and the wild to take back our power. The time has come to bring our medicine into the world and bring back the ancient mysteries, the Goddess and the ways of the natural world.
The time has come for healing and growth, for the daughters of the sacred to stand tall rooted in the compass of our intuition.
The tides have turned and the age of darkness is over.
How do I know Who I am When all I have been taught Is who to be According to rules That belong to a past That believed in the domination Of nature As a path to power.
How do I know Who to be When the judgment that gets thrown Arises from a fear so old That no one even knows Why it’s wrong To shine Or show pleasure As a woman.
Why would I stay Cooped up in a cage Of shoulds and oughts When this body Is crafted from moonlight And fire And the deeper river Of ancient knowing Guides my every felt sense Of what it means To be a woman.
So I stand Shameless bright My heart open wide Wild crafted pleasure And mountainous might I define myself As I set myself free And I laugh out loud As I birth a new me For all women.
Her teeth needed straightening, they would say. People would continue to attack her looks and her self-esteem to the point that she was very insecure, she believed what everyone said about her, admitting she was an “ugly duckling.”
When she first met him, she could not believe that a man was interested in her. She wanted him to see her world, so instead of going to a fancy, social event, she instead took him to the slums of the Lower East Side, where she did volunteer work, helping young immigrants.
The young man, who had held a rich, sheltered life, saw things he would never forget — sweat shops where women labored long hours for low wages and squalid tenements where children worked for hours until they dropped with exhaustion.
This walking tour profoundly changed the young man, moving him to say, that he “could not believe human beings lived that way.”
The young man’s name was Franklin D. Roosevelt, and the young woman, who changed his life forever, who would change the world forever, her name was Anna Eleanor Roosevelt.
They would eventually marry. On March 4, 1933, Franklin D. Roosevelt would be inaugurated as the 32nd President of the United States and Anna Eleanor Roosevelt would become the First Lady. At first, Anna Eleanor Roosevelt remained shy. She would also continue to be ridiculed by the press, making fun of her stout figure, toothy smile, and way of dress. Even her own mother-in-law, still over-protective of her son, would tell Eleanor’s own children that their mother was boring.
But, being First Lady allowed Eleanor Roosevelt to see more of the world, to see how the rest of the nation lived, outside of her privileged surroundings. She started speaking up for women, African-Americans, and children. And, she started influencing her husband, telling him what she saw.
She would continue to receive hate mail for her views, but it just made her stronger, more determined.
When the Daughters of the American Revolution boycotted the 1936 concert of African-American singer Marian Anderson, she would resign her membership and helped organize a new concert in front of the Lincoln Memorial that made history.
She flew with black (male) pilots and helped the Tuskegee Airmen in their successful effort to become the first black combat pilots.
She would be nominated three times, during her lifetime, for a Nobel Peace Prize. She became a renowned social and political activist, journalist, educator, and diplomat. Throughout her time as First Lady, and for the remainder of her life, she was a high profile supporter of the Civil Rights Movement, of equal rights for women, and of social reforms to uplift the poor.
Even after her husband’s passing, she remained active in politics for the rest of her life. President Truman would appoint her as a U.S. Delegate to the United Nations, where she would receive a standing ovation when the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was adopted on December 10, 1948.
She would chair President Kennedy’s ground-breaking committee which helped start second-wave feminism, the Presidential Commission on the Status of Women. And, she continued supporting women, even personally assisting in the careers of many women, providing them with guidance, giving them hope.
She would still remember when they called her an ugly duckling when she was growing up, but to the world, she was and continues to be a beautiful swan whose beauty inside helped her speak the truth, making the world a little better for all.
Self love, self care is so important. Without it, we simply look for its supply from outside ourselves, and most often left wanting.
We’ve been played against eachother for so long, vying for the love of the masculine. Pulled sometimes into love of the feminine for the lack we discover elsewhere.
It is plain that true lack is on the inside. We’ve forgotten how to deeply love our self, so busy have we been at sending love and support to those outside our self … we have left WE behind, and many times look at each other as though we are enemy.
It’s a game you see.
If the feminine can be separated, then true healing, true nurturing cannot occur, for it is the woman who does this.
If she is lacking herself, and if there is no sisterhood to support her, then her cup will run empty and the whole world suffers.
It is time to leave behind that viscous vampire that demands so much yet gives so little, to none.
The roses are in bloom, yet many rose bushes are bare, no flowers appear there. The woman has been convinced to clip her own flower, giving it to the masculine, where it dies in short form … requiring the clipping of yet another one of her beautiful flowers, where the cycle repeats. This has been an intentional manipulation by those who know the power of women and their healing abilities.
They desire a sick world, with sick and unstable people, because it is that world which is easily controlled.
The feminine must nurture and heal herself. She must band with her sisters, leaving behind the desire for love from that which destroys, replacing that need, for a time, with her own deep love.
Bringing health to self, she will then be able to bring health to the whole. Mending the aspects of masculinity, healing our ailing sisters, so that all roses bloom, so that the love we seek will actually be present and healthy.
At this time, the only thing we will find is more who wish to suck our vibrancy until they’ve had their fill and discard us without helping replenish what they’ve taken.
Spiritually speaking, we are lacking, severely. It is only we who can turn it around.
My sisters, the women who nurture, who mend, who heal … it is time to reconnect with the deepest self love you can muster. Your cup must be filled, and in these times it is you who must fill it.
Let all else rest for a while as you nurture yourself and fill your cup. The men will be fine, the ‘friends’ will be fine, although they will make a ruckus. They’ve been used to you filling their cups, leaving no thing for yourself. When you start to retain goodness for self, they will reject the idea of you embracing you. Most will demand that you stop, and continue feeding the beast … their own selfish needs.
Our sexual energy is not for gratification alone. This energy builds worlds … the world of (y)our choice, or the world of another’s choice.
We’ve gone from being “of service to the people” to being “servant”.
Claim your power, your energy. You will need to be operating at maximum force for what is coming.
We need you healed (not heeled). We need you whole, your cup full to the point of overflow. It is this overflow which will heal others, indeed, the whole of the world. And when necessary, when the cup begins to empty once more, it will be for healing the sick and ailing energies of this world … the people, the animals, the plants, GAIA, our Mother.
It is the women that hold it all together.
Let us stop allowing the controllers to pit us one against the other.
It is thisdivision that allows the most harm be done to our world.
This is our responsibility.
We shucked this responsibility for the promise of love. The promise of love that turned out to be manipulation and a form of slavery. (Many times, some have been fortunate and still bloom in love. Let them not leave their sisters behind, the sickness is growing).
We must bring emotional, energetic love back to self, reeling in all energies which are scattered, claiming them as our birthright, filling our own cup until it runneth over, spilling healthy, happy and whole into this depleted world.
You (We) are the healer.
You (We) are the nurturer.
Heal and nurture self, and the whole world will benefit.
“Medusa teaches us that we have the right to defend ourselves. So often we are taught that we need to put up with the actions of others in a quiet way, demurely accepting what others would put upon us. She shows us that we need to stand our ground when someone would do us harm. We are not here to quietly accept the intentions of others. We have the right to be safe.
Medusa tells us to know our power and to honor the gifts that swim within our veins, even though sometimes it may feel like more of a curse than a blessing. She brings us the wisdom of the snake, of transformation and of rebirth. She asks that we too hold up the mirrored shield towards those that would wish us ill and reflect back upon them what they have created.
Medusa reminds us that there will always be those who will spit venom at us, in word and deed. That does not make them right. We are not here to be the plaything of others. We are Sacred Priestesses of the Divine. And we will not back down.”
Once, I ran from fear so fear controlled me. Until I learned to hold fear like a newborn. Listen to it, but not give in. Honour it, but not worship it. Fear could not stop me anymore. I walked with courage into the storm. I still have fear, but it does not have me.
Once, I was ashamed of who I was. I invited shame into my heart. I let it burn. It told me, “I am only trying to protect your vulnerability”. I thanked shame dearly, and stepped into life anyway, unashamed, with shame as a lover.
Once, I had great sadness buried deep inside. I invited it to come out and play. I wept oceans. My tear ducts ran dry. And I found joy right there. Right at the core of my sorrow. It was heartbreak that taught me how to love.
Once, I had anxiety. A mind that wouldn’t stop. Thoughts that wouldn’t be silent. So I stopped trying to silence them. And I dropped out of the mind, and into the Earth. Into the mud. Where I was held strong like a tree, unshakeable, safe.
Once, anger burned in the depths. I called anger into the light of myself. I felt its shocking power. I let my heart pound and my blood boil. Listened to it, finally. And it screamed, “Respect yourself fiercely now!”. “Speak your truth with passion!”. “Say no when you mean no!”. “Walk your path with courage!”. “Let no one speak for you!” Anger became an honest friend. A truthful guide. A beautiful wild child.
Once, loneliness cut deep. I tried to distract and numb myself. Ran to people and places and things. Even pretended I was “happy”. But soon I could not run anymore. And I tumbled into the heart of loneliness. And I died and was reborn into an exquisite solitude and stillness. That connected me to all things. So I was not lonely, but alone with All Life. My heart One with all other hearts.
Once, I ran from difficult feelings. Now, they are my advisors, confidants, friends, and they all have a home in me, and they all belong and have dignity. I am sensitive, soft, fragile, my arms wrapped around all my inner children. And in my sensitivity, power. In my fragility, an unshakeable Presence.
In the depths of my wounds, in what I had named “darkness”, I found a blazing Light that guides me now in battle.
She looked fabulous with her long wavy hair, dressed in skin tight pants, she looks lovely in black.
She hangs out in dark places, with people who do the same. I asked if I could join them awhile.
Upon exiting the “bar” to go to the next, we found my car had been smashed into … a complete wreck. Upon closer look, I mentioned it wasn’t even my car, but she took the keys and started what was left of the motor …. hahaha, anyone with skills can do that … it wasn’t my car.
As we walked along, to the next bar, she recorded me a message … to eat a lot of jiffra matter and produce lots of shit.
She had a great accent, perfect hair, a nice body …. no one would ever guess she is the Queen of Shit.
Hanginging out in shitty places where shitty things happen, instructing people on how to behave in shitty manners and even on how to go about producing shitty fecal matter!
I had no idea the Queen of Shit would be so glamorous.
I wonder why she chose to hang out with me.
Could it be she thinks of me as shit?
Well, no thank you beautiful lady.
I’m changing my diet.
You’ll have to collect shit somewhere else.
Tomorrow after work I think I’ll take her someplace a little more my style … where the light shines brightly, the fresh breezes blow, and the only shit around is that which people actually pick up that their favorite four legged companions drop … the canine.
I will smile from ear to ear as I imagine her walking by my side, in shock at the brightness and purity of it.
Perhaps I’ll offer her some of an orange I’ll bring along to snack on.
Update: I had the perfect avocado and roma tomato on plant based pita chips followed by a purple plum and a bit of lemon ginger kombucha for lunch. Yum, and I still feel all light and fluffy!! Hahahaha.