Tag Archives: earth

you don’t fuck with Mother Nature, buddy

Today I felt a man dis me – and if felt like it was b/c I’m a female. It did not feel good – at first. He Mother Earthasked me a question, I began to answer, and then he ignored me when a man entered the room, and asked the man the same question he had just asked me. I left the room and the “conversation”.

Mother-Earth And I was somewhat upset about it – but only b/c I was wondering what kind of energy I was putting out to have, perhaps, attracted that. So I took a break to check on my energy and get some clarity on the situation (okay, I went to the bathroom). And while I was peeing, I focused on my womb space and the Divine Feminine energy there and sent it down both legs and into the ground. I could feel the roots growing downward as I pushed it further down. It felt amazing.

I got the Mother’s response immediately, and for the first time since beginning this exercise a week ago, I physically felt the power and energy return to me from the Divine Earth Mother after sending down those cords. It felt like power, like strength, support; it felt delicious. It felt like home. The energy was huge, heavy, dark, rich and fecund, and I did not stagger under its weight.

Instead, I grew big – in power. I felt my energy shift and accept the invitation from the Mother. And unlike Masculine power, which when I try and imitate it, makes me want to stand tall and open my chest and get big physically, this energy felt powerful from deep within. And it felt like a lovely, irreverent secret shared between womenfriends.

Mother-Earth1Immediately I laughed and was no longer upset – why bother with someone’s disrespect? It had nothing to do with me.

The Power came through me, and with no small amount of delight, I directed my thoughts/energy (which did not contain anger or upset anymore) to the disrespectful man:  “Who do you think you are to dis me? I am The Power. I am The Glory. I am Mother Nature, Mother Earth. You don’t fuck with Mother Nature, buddy. I am The Power that created you. I have the ability to create humans – from scratch. You would not even be here in physical form were it not for me,” the Mother, through me, said.

And I laughed again.

Dear Ones, Dear Sisters: You are The Power and The Glory. You are Creators. You are Feminine.

Heal on, sisters.

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allowing longing.

I awoke this morning with a heavy, achy heart – sad and a bit tenderoonie.

So instead of going instantly into my usual fix-it, let’s-get-happy-again-as-soon-as-possible mode, I made heavy_heartthe conscious decision to just sit with it. To wait on my heart to tell me its story the same way I would sit and wait with a sad friend – just to be present, just to be there for them. So I have been still all day, listening, showing my respect and admiration for such a brave, strong, sensitive heart.

And my heart has been telling me lovely, sad stories of longing and belonging all day. It tells me a story of longing to belong, another story of desiring independence and strength – to be alone, stories so sweet and tender that I have been in tears all day at the sweetness and vulnerability of them. It tells me the story of longing, desiring my permission, to go ahead and search for God like a man with his hair on fire searches for water (or maybe like a ‘woman’ with her hair on fire searches for water, b/c the search would not be the same) – the longing for the Beloved – the ache to once again meet and merge with the Divine One and surrender to her/him. heavyheart2

And my heart is not broken, not breaking open. Instead it is swelling, overflowing – full of life, full of tears, full of pain, full of love and knowing. And instead of quieting my heart, instead of trying to muffle the sound, I am sending out the longing like the call for the Mate, the Beloved it seeks.

resting in the Mother

This morning after yoga, sitting meditating and focusing on the womb space, I imagined a sphere of light being born there and beginning to grow – the way Rachael Jayne Groover talks about in her excellent book, Powerful and Feminine. And after a moment or two, I let the color of that light choose itself. I was fascinated to discover it turned from the yellow-gold that I had held in my mind to black – deep, dark, soft , secret and warm – with some purple-indigo-red.goddessinthewombofvoid

When I let that sphere grow until it formed the bubble around my body, the safety, warmth and grounded-ness of that certainty of the womb surrounded me – I was safe within the Mother – it was delicious.

Years ago, I was cautious in using black energy/light for healing until I realized: When all the colors/frequencies of light are combined, you get white light. When all the colors of pigment are combined, you get black pigment/paint. womb mudraHeal on sisters.

I am angry

I am angry.

I am angry at my friend for dying on Xmas eve. Angry at god, angry at the Universe. Angry at myself for being angry. Angry that now her family will always think of Xmas differently. And so will I. Angry that I have to adjust my holiday schedule for her death. Angry that it bothers me. Angry that I am thinking of such stupid, selfish stuff as this.

Angry that as a single mom, I have never felt financially able to give my daughter what I wanted to be able to give her for Xmas – for 22 years now. Angry that I’ve bought into the idea that I must give her material things at Xmas. Angry that I might have raised a child who expects that. Angry that I never got what I wanted as a child for Xmas. Angry that I am so angry about these things – angry that I am so very petty and selfish to be so angry and so ungrateful.

Angry that there’s no significant other in my life right now and hasn’t been in the nearly two years since I broke up with my boyfriend. Angry at myself that I think I need/want a boyfriend. Angry that I don’t need/want a boyfriend. Angry that I couldn’t make that work even though I loved him. Angry that now he wants me back and that I sometimes even consider it b/c I am so lonely and horny. Angry that I am so picky in my choice of men. Angry that any old Joe-smoe won’t do for me. Angry that being a single mom and independent woman has caused me to become so very masculine in my life b/c I’ve had to do so much for myself that I will never be able to find a man more masculine than I – may never find a man so secure in his masculinity that it polarizes me back into my feminine. Angry at the world. Angry at Santa. Angry at the father aspect of the Divine Masculine who has let me down in every way throughout my life.

Angry at everything. Angry that my employer has scheduled a fucking “retreat” for all employees during the holiday season. Angry that “retreats” are never that; instead they are boring, annoying, stupid “workshops”, out of which nothing lasting and good ever comes. Angry that I am supposed to just go to this retreat and act like I’m okay with my holiday season being hijacked by a fucking “retreat”. Angry that he insists on calling them “retreats”.

Angry that my gut is still leaky and causing all sorts of body/life style issues that I am having to deal with even though I have been on a boring, restrictive, expensive diet for months now. Angry that I can’t eat out with friends in restaurants, therefore. Angry at the physical pain this gut thing is causing me.

Angry that my birthday was just another day this year. Angry that I couldn’t seem to make it more. Angry that I can’t eat chocolate, bread or sugar any more. Angry that my comfort is tied to food so much. Angry at my body. Angry that I am so old and so unsatisfied with my life and myself. Angry that I can’t seem to change my life fast enough. Angry that I am not making more money. Angry that I put so much importance on money. Angry that I can’t just get over myself and be happy for more than a few weeks at a time. Angry that I can’t be satisfied. Angry that I can’t just rest, can’t give up and stop working and growing and expanding – why can’t I just BE?

Angry that all of this is coming up now – during the death of someone I know, during the holiday season. As if everything is supposed to be put on hold for the holidays while we make-believe that everything is merry and bright. Angry that I am so very angry. Angry that this leaky gut is probably actually producing all this anger as it is clearing. Angry that I can’t sometimes tell the different between real anger and clearing, healing, really-connected-to-nothing-and-therefore-false anger that happens as this gut issue is healing.

Angry that I can’t seem to find myself inside this anger – I’d like to be able to own it and use it constructively. Angry that I am also sad. Angry that I want so much. Angry that Earth is so slow and patient when I am not. Angry that I’m alone. Angry that I doubt myself. Angry that I doubt everything. Angry that I let the healing-gut anxiety talk me into being anxious about things I’m not really anxious about. Angry that I’m angry. Angry that I’ve typed and looked at the word “angry” too many times now and can’t even tell it’s a word anymore – thank gawd for spell check.

I am angry.

she touched down

Following only that exquisite call of desire
She left those heavenly realms
and touched down upon the breast of the Divine One

How much weight?
How much?

and cried surprised watery warm tears
For the first time
in thousands of Earth’s years

longing

universe

The far reaches call me
like the sweet, familiar
lover’s whisper against my hair
luring me, lulling me
seducing me into liquid warmth

to that place that feels like home

I want to fall into those known arms
want to feel the caress of home
against this longing,
soothing me back into myself
back into what I remember as mine