The Redundant Male by Jeremy Cherfas & John Gribbin
The Physiological Engine of Woman by Professor Hilton Hotema
The Great Red Dragon by Professor Hilton Hotema
The Sky People by Brinkley Le Poer Trench
The Star People by Brad and Francis Steiger
Man, the Unknown by Alexis Carrel
“She isn’t a kind person” he said.
I do not agree.
She is beautiful, inside and out.
She is not a door mat, or an inexperienced, untested girl who needs to be “led”.
She’s a survivor who has raised good men and women.
She is a nurturer, with skills others lack.
She most certainly IS kind.
She is there when others need her.
She is strong.
She is one who needs a partner, not a master.
She is my sister.
Don’t forget it.
And don’t bring your shit talk of her to my door.
Every new note creates a beautiful memory.
Time and space fall away like leaves.
We may have pain, but we are beautiful energy.
We got a gift, we got love, let it go.
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.
The time of the wise woman is once again upon us.
Long may we rise, long may we howl!!!
Blessings,
~Ara~
A reminder to any woman who looks at her body and finds it flawed: these are prehistoric carvings of goddesses. These represent the epitome of feminine beauty to those we seek to emulate when we go on “paleo” diets. Not a flat tummy, thigh gap, or gravity-defying breast among them.
These are bodies that are unique to their owners, and contain stories of desire, creation, hardship, and perseverance. These are bodies that are ready to hold you as you cry. These are bodies that worked every day to provide nourishment, resources and guidance to their communities while also caring for the next generation. They supported one another in their labor, holding one another’s babies while they worked crafting tools, collecting water & singing songs to teach the young about the goddesses they so closely resembled.
And these carvings weren’t found in just one area. They’ve been discovered nearly everywhere humanity has settled and thrived. Which means there was a time when womanhood, in all her power and capacity, was revered not as merely a sexual novelty or shunned as sinful temptation, but seen as a source of inspiration to create, to connect, and to find courage.
Today, our patriarchal society reveres conformity in women over all. It demands that women strive to achieve and maintain a form that resembles an untested girl. Our bodies must look perpetually untouched, unspoiled, a blank slate for a man to claim and use and write his own story upon. Instead of worshiping women as they are, we scrutinize and discard them as never good enough. And the more we strive to conform, the more we give up control of our bodies.
So have comfort, women: with each fat roll and jiggle you gain as you move forward in time, you come closer to resembling the goddess as she originally appeared in the hearts of humanity. She lives in you and longs to be seen and revered as she was before.
And you deserve to be worshipped.
~ Alaura Weaver
Hypathia’s philosophy was concerned with the “mystery of being,” contemplation of Reality, rising to elevated states of consciousness, and “union with the divine, her disciples certainly regarded her in the light of a spiritual leader.
At the risk of her own life she refused to be swayed by mindless religious fanatics, and carried on doing what she loved, and that was teaching and pursuing science, mathematics and philosophy as the world around her tore itself apart. She remained true to her beliefs right up to the very end.
Chorus:
I am my mother’s savage daughter,
the one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother’s savage daughter,
I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice.
My mother’s child is a savage,
She looks for her omens in the colors of stones,
In the faces of cats, in the fall of feathers,
In the dancing of fire and the curve of old bones.
(Chorus)
My mother’s child dances in darkness,
She sings heathen songs by the light of the moon,
And watches the stars and renames the planets,
And dreams she can reach them with a song and a broom.
(Chorus)
My mother’s child curses too loud and too often,
My mother’s child laughs too hard and too long,
And howls at the moon and sleeps in ditches,
And clumsily raises her voice in this song.
(Chorus)
Now we all are brought forth out of darkness and water,
Brought into this world through blood and through pain,
And deep in our bones, the old songs are wakening,
So sing them with voices of thunder and rain.
(Chorus x3)
We are our mother’s savage daughters,
The ones who run barefoot cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother’s savage daughters,
We will not cut our hair, We will not lower our voice
https://wyndrethsavagedaughtershieldmaid.bandcamp.com/track/my-mothers-savage-daughter-studio-
“Savage Daughter” is a cover recorded by Sarah Hester Ross of “I Am My Mothers Savage Daughter” written by Karen L Unrein/Wyndreth Berginsdottir c. 1990
..the mystery of Her sacred medicine is the immortal elixir of life. She is the Divine temple of Creation. Her nurturing container of potential births new realities through the dark light. The Sacred Marriage of Spirit & Matter is her Sovereign gift of purity.
Her wild, erotic liberation exudes the fragrance of her flowering sexual awareness, utilizing her sexual channels for the revitalization of optimal health & vitality. Her physical communion with Spirit rouses the dragon energy of enlightenment; full circle in her feminine essence.
from:
empowerwholeness.com
She’s arriving into present time.
This is the Gift of her deep work.
She has been healing her pain, embracing her shadows, claiming her body & womb Temple, releasing her shame, clearing the victim/opressor, facing her fears, walking out of dishonouring spaces & so much more.
She’s a warrior.
She stands steady, anchored inside herself.
She’s let go her history.
Her cellular memories are cleaned out, and she’s no longer trapped in the past.
As she connects to her divine longing & her passion, she deepens her surrender.
Her future is exciting.
She’s becoming relaxed about where her life is heading.
She’s free & uncluttered & she’s travelling light.
Her energy is no longer sucked into the past, or running away into the future.
She feels powerful & abundant.
She’s fully present.
She’s amazed at how relaxed and alert she can be at the same time.
She could easily pass through the eye of a needle.
Author ~Sukhvinder Sircar
Shared with Love
🌀Nicole
Sacred Wild Woman Medicine
Gratitude to the Unknown Artist
Amazingly courageous and resilient, true to their purpose, even in the face of their oppressors. They cannot wipe out the dignity and grace from many hearts, as the feminine continues to rise in their glory. They can rape them, torture them, and kill them … but they cannot remove their fortitude, dignity or sense of personal value unless they themselves allow it.
In the spring of 1980 Farruhra Parsa, the Minister of Education before the Islamic Revolution in Iran, was executed. She had fought all her life for women’s rights and remained faithful to herself even after the victory of the Islamic Revolution. The sentence handed down by the new authorities found her guilty of “spreading sin on earth and denying Allah.
“I am a doctor, so I am not afraid of death. Death is only a moment and nothing more. I would rather meet death with open arms than live in shame, being forcibly covered by a veil. I will not kneel before those who expect me to feel remorse for my half-century of struggle for equality between men and women. I am not ready to wear the veil and take a step back in history,” Parsa wrote in a farewell letter to her children.
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