We have an Aquarius New Moon, a watery, emotional, soul quenching time to dive into our depths and ignite our souls. The soul path is singing to us, can you follow the sound of the song even though you don’t know where the trail shall lead? This is living with your instincts, trusting, following, being guided by Spirit. The Sacred Feminine is awakening and beginning her Howl. We have shed the shit out of the old now is the time to surrender, follow and trust in the new that is not yet in form but in motion. The seeds have been planted but not yet sprouted, can you patiently await to see what comes and trust you will be supported?
On this day and night of the New Moon, you know the drill. Take some Sacred Time, light some candles, burn some incents, play some soft music or wild feminine drums and write your soul blood onto the pages. This moon, I invite you to write a letter to the Great Mother, the Sacred Feminine, The Goddess…She in any form. Bear your soul. Tell her about what you’d like to do in your life, your wild, alive dreams that are rambunctiously beckoning at you from within. You feel the pecks of the wild call like little birds tapping their beaks at you ferociously for food. Just see what comes. This letter for me is deep, is soul-bearing is something I held tight to my heart for a good week now, and today I finished it. So I invite you to write to Her, our Sacred Mother and bear your sweet soul. Share your wishes, your struggles, and that what excites you or is calling you and know her arms wrap you and your life like a squishy, large, bosomed grandmother hugging you to your depths. It is a time of brand new beginnings after and whole lot of shedding. And so it is my dear friends.
Below is my letter to the Great Mother. As always feel free to FOLLOW THE BLOG if she calls to you and Like The Women’s Tribe FB page.
To the Great Mother, Goddess, Divine Feminine.
I understand you had to facilitate the end of my job. I get that I finally had to let it go. I had no choice, my time was up. It was time for the decision to be made. I hear you whisper to me to simply let it go, something else is brewing, my health and my job just could not exist together.
There’s an element of surrender you are asking from me, I see that, and yet I struggle to bow down and curtsy to you. I know, I know….I must, there is no other choice. On top of my health, I am with child now. I certainly cannot risk the health of my child. You knew this and dropped the surprise into my womb. You knew I’d risk my own health out of fear of dropping my old professional role, so you helped me and anointed my womb with a life I would not offer any risk of harm.
As much as I trust your plan Great Mother, I am struggling in my shedding. I feel like this final badge of honor that I was so desperately holding was the last petal that fell off and my old life is now completely gone. I’m left with just myself, my stem, my roots and my uncertainty of what life is without all my bright, shiny petals surrounding me. I doubt my worth and it’s making me have to look into the insecure mirror.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall what the hell makes me worthy if all my petals are gone?”
As I gaze into my reflection, I see my fear wanting to reach for the fallen pieces of flower so I can glue them back on. I’m used to being that flower, that bright, colorful flower. And now I’m without any petals of definitions or badges of worth. I’ve put all my marbles into the petals, believing they made me something. I am this title, this role and I have this purpose and therefore I am good enough and I have value. That job, that title meant I made something of my life, I succeeded, I became something. And now…it’s gone. I’m stripped down to my bones, my soul bones and have come to a cross-road. I’m walking out into the world title free and it’s rattling me to the Core. I feel weak in my knees, thin skinned, skeletal like.
I’ve fought hard for the Feminine, the Sacred Feminine to find it’s place at the throne alongside the masculine here in the physical world and it has been a battle. I have fought hard but always kept my foot in the masculine world, to feel accepted, deemed okay, able to fit it. My jobs were part of this. My jobs allowed this and yet they were the same place I lost my connection to my soul. I always knew I was not doing my soul’s work there, I felt like I was doing what was responsible and I accepted that. Now, I feel like you are testing me and challenging me to see if I can walk my talk. Can I move in to my wild, feminine self and take it out to the world fully, not half assed. You have cut my safety nets.
Here at am at the fork in the road.
“Can I fully believe that the Feminine is equally important, worthy and valuable in a world that doesn’t yet celebrate it? Can I walk out of my house day after day and not get a single ego stroke for an external accomplishment? The bigger question, can I stroke my own soul and embrace and celebrate and honor the inner beauty, the feelings, the art, the expressions, the soul connections and the love that I leak out in the world and feel like this is enough? Can I place equal value in my Beingness that I did in my doingness?”
I know that it will take a lot of work. Getting external validation is like an ego boosting drug. It will take truck loads of self-belief and a strong will. I have to be for myself what I have sought out of others. I will have to be my own love drug. I have to give myself the love I have desperately needed out of others.
Phewf, is there a course on this…haha! You know I’ve always felt a bit different in this world, like I don’t quite fit in, and now you are asking me to not only accept this but relish in it? I know I don’t care about things like my eye brow shape or having the perfect lip liner, or Botox or the best clothes. I often buy used clothes.
For some reason I was made to be soul oriented, not image oriented. I care about the trees, the Earth, the Sun and the Wind. I love the nights when the moon shines bright. I love solitude and reflection and making art for no purpose other than to express myself. I’m deep, emotional and intense (people don’t always like this). I want to talk soul purpose, darkness, pain, struggle, wonder, enchantment, magic and mystery, not new kitchen gadgets. I want to stare at the stars for hours and get lost in the night sky instead of going to the newest hot spot.
You know Great Mother, I felt like I do now once before at the age of thirteen. I had no understanding of you but I felt the remembering of you in my blood. I craved for your touch, your caress, your presence in my life like a child for her mother but I could not find you. I could hear you call to me but I could not find my way to you. Nobody showed me the path or taught me the way home to your presence. I did not have the words or understanding of being without you in my life I only felt the despair, the emptiness, the lack of feeling okay. I desperately wanted the ache of living without you to be seen, to be heard, to be understood and named. But nobody knew of you or share you with me so I became the problem, not the world that denied you. My eating disorder, my lack of coping, my short-comings needed development. I became pissed off, I rebelled, I acted out my longing for your Sacred, for belonging, for being seen and I self-harmed, I smoked, toked and drank the booze to fill the emptiness. I acted out my despair of living without you for living without you meant having to live without myself.
I see now, in this moment it was my journey. It was the road I had to take to come back to the un-cloaked and un-titled soul that I was then and am again now. Life has stripped me down back to the raw, real, vulnerable soul that I was at thirteen, before I masked and imaged myself up.
There are no distractions, no roles or personas or hats I’m wearing to cover up anymore. I can see in this exact moment that I had to go through all that pain and addiction and acting out so I would have to seek out healing. Healing allowed me to figure out what the hell I was feeling and unconsciously expressing. I got to discover that I was born with the remembering of the Sacred Feminine within me and my path of healing was the place I was going to give birth to its’ existence in my life. In my healing I discovered an understanding of things I had felt but never understood. I learned how to free myself of eon old pain by remembering the you, the Sacred Feminine and inviting you to paint my life back into aliveness.
I had to learn how to be my own parent, healer, and best friend so I could prepare myself for this moment of soul return and walk a new path in a world that may not get or support it. I had to ally myself up with my own love and acceptance and believe in you, the Great Mother to support, hold me and nourish me as I plunge in my feminine depths.
In some ways it’s easier to fit in, to walk the common path and belong. It’s easier in the sense that you get support, validation and celebration for checking off all the “successful adult” boxes or get recognition and celebration for looking a certain way. You get to swim with the other fish rather than against them.
Yet for me, it’s far more painful and gut wrenching to live in an inauthentic manner. My soul begins to quiver and shrivel up like a snail laced with salt. As it begins to fade away the despair, the depression, the doom and the anxiety circle me like a bunch of crows to a dead carcass on the side of the road. Living without my own self-connection and in alignment with my wild, feminine soul is a life of addiction and is massive self-destruction. I cannot do it. Death would take my hand if I did. And I have not wanted to accept this. I have wanted to change the norm, to challenge the norm, rather than being faced with the task of living a different life, on the lonely trail of the non-norm.
I have nothing left but to keep following my spirit lead instinct and make a new trail, make a new life in the bushy, dark, jagged trail that waits to be touched and cleared. This is my purpose. Sigh*!
Do I wish my purpose was as linear as becoming an accountant or nurse or pavement maker. Yes!!!! I wish it was wrapped with such a pretty, titled bow. But for some reason my purpose is not that describable or that easily coined. I cannot put it on a business card. I cannot name it in one word.
I can only be brought back to you Great Mother and thus myself, over and over. Can I love myself enough to be wildly different and live un-boxed? Can I be an artist of life, or a lover of Creation, a magician, an expressionist or even a beauty maker rather than a Home Care Case Coordinator and be okay with that? Can I give up my fancy titles and follow my wild spirit because this is what life is asking of me in this moment even though others will challenge me to grab a role? It feels big, un-contained and un-packaged and it’s uncomfortable, yet dare I say exciting?!
Can I believe in Creation, in Spirit, in Divinity, in you Great Mother and just follow the off- beat call of the wild? All I can do is try, experience it all and share. I can only dive into the magic and the darkness, the pit of loneliness that feels like my life is at times and trust that somehow this is my soul path.
I have one of those birthday books that tell you about yourself based on the date of your birth and the title of mine is called, “The Lone Wolf.” How fucking fitting!
So here I am, a flower without it’s petals but still alive, still with a solid stem and roots. I wonder if anyone ever appreciates the stem of a flower or how the roots keep it alive. It’s funny how when you are most yourself you risk being the most unseen, the most in-validated. Being this vulnerable, real, raw is not so much seen as brave and courageous as much as it is seen as a nuisance and instability…hahaha! That kind of makes me laugh for I connect most to those who have made beautiful sculptures out of the shit life dealt them.
And so I trek on, back to the point on the trail I left when I was thirteen with a hell of lot more knowledge and self-respect and courage to walk onto my path as a feeler, a loner, a color and magic inducer and a sharer of it all.
I howl on…
The Lone Wolf…
Photo 2 – valerielenton.wordpress.com