The empty space

I write from a place of exhaustion, though I just recently rose. Rose up from the deep slumber, pleasure filled the sheets and I rose up up up from those realms into these. Into these where I stand. I stand and I hold the weight of the ancestors and I am reminded of how much “work” there is to to. How much work there is when I live from my root, when I feel the sturdy stability of my legs and my feet and my calves, the toes and hips that hold it all together. I am reminded of all the things that are being asked of me and that I have said yes to. Gratefully, I’d have it no other way. Though the days feel tiring the weary at times, I too have also never felt so alive. I have never felt so connected to my heart and to these great lands and to the unknown most especially.

And the “work” feels like that of the old world.

There’s a towel over the back of a chair, used to clean up the spill of a water bowl knocked over. There’s soot stained blankets downstairs, ready to be washed. Luckily, all the dishes are clean. There’s some clutter, the bathroom floor has a bit of black ooze around the toilet that’s starting to smell like the moldy camper I once briefly called home. The air is warm and breezy, and I am here with Apollo, a friend, cat body. He doesn’t seem to mind about any of it. We are happy, we are fed, we are well. We sleep in in the mornings and we go to bed late. We play outside and we rest our bodies under willow, or I do as he climbs her trunk. Scratching his sharp claws into rough bark. There’s some mutually beneficial relationship within that exchange. Life is peaceful, simple, fun, all on the outside. I go to work, I see my friends. We celebrate, we laugh, we sit around fires and eat good foods. We drink wine and smoke weed and put our feet in running streams. We follow numbers on license plates and on time stamps. We read tarot cards and pray to the moon. We photosynthesize under the sun and sit on smooth stones. We collect bones and arrange them under trees with flowers and intention, and we inspire one another. To live fully true.

Yet, still, it feels as though something is held back. Some power that floods through our veins and our bodies that is just barely tapped. We see it on the surface, yet we tread gently as if not to break the delicate stem of a flower for we wish to appreciate it in its fully bloom. Though what is inside can never be broken, for it has been created beyond the start of time itself. It is the empty space, the full place. The everything and no-thing at all. The womb yearns for pleasure, for expression, for creation, for depth and for release. The lives lived upon the surface in just the area of the root seem to not fully compare when held up to the depths of the waters of the womb. Yet too comes forth the fear, the fear of the unknown, of what happens when a womb is opened. When a power so guttural and ancient and archaic is set free, when a woman, a body, a being decides to fully embody. To step forth from her hips, from her pelvis guided by the heart. For I know what has been here before. I know and I have sensed, intuited and the ancestors speak through me now. They have watched as empires have fallen through power misused. They have watched and felt as their sovereignty and freedom was stripped from them for the authentic embodiment of who they are. Killed, murdered, enslaved, abused. There’s no power for a power beyond words in a world ruled by those without access to it. Those at the top, those fighting for control were those who did not know, who could not feel, who did not have access to the depths of creation in the ways the womb does, so they waged wars and pitted us against each other, they stripped us bare and burned us alive. 7 million over hundreds of years, they’re in your ancestry too, they go back to your root as well, no matter who you are or where you’re from, those that came before you in some degree were those killed for their sovereignty. The seers, the priestesses, the witches, the healers, the wise woman and all those who tapped in, or associated with those around. A mother, a sister, a grandmother, an ancestor, all held in place while bursting at the seams. And the brothers, fathers, sons who had to watch as those they loved where taken and slaughtered for their truth, how could they not wish to hold them back, to confine their powers, for in the ancient days it had gotten their families killed. And these stories still live on in the collective psyche, men yearning to suppress the power of the feminine, for in one life or another, one lineage or another, they watched their loved ones burn alive for accessing it. That’s why those masculines held on so tightly for control, and others too, to keep the whole illusion in place, because without the tightly knit structures of what’s been before, all would crumble. All would collapse, and all is collapsing, as justice is finally being righted. Justice is finally being restored and rebalanced. Divine justice. Your wounds are being healed and equilibrium is being brought forth. Trust, trust in your tears and the way your body responds, for in you, you know, for this speaks right to the soul.

Justice means honoring the divine feminine, the wild feminine, the dark feminine, all of her. All of her expressions. Justice means honoring the divine masculine, the wild masculine, the dark masculine, not as a power above or below but instead as an equal. And allowing the interplay as he honors her and remembering that we all are both. As within so without. The womb has always known these truths. The womb has always felt and always intuited and always understood and known, yet the dynamic is shifting. Away from a space of the feminine being small, talked over, ignored, put in the back, and hidden in her depth of knowing, the dynamic is shifting to round tables where all voices are heard. The divine feminine at the center. The dynamics shift to the space where she breathes and they listen. The dynamic is shifting to the space of understanding and trusting within her knowing beyond knowing. Her intuition beyond explanation, her perception that pierces through all illusions and delusions. It goes beyond the logic of the mind and straight to the heart and the challenge and the greatest liberation is to trust her. To trust your heart, to trust the divine feminine aspects within you. To tour your womb. The power of receptivity and knowing, of intuition and insight. Of asking and simply receiving for the deep understanding of our magnetic nature. All is provided and all is well. And all of us are breaking out from under these spells, of better or worse or one over the other, though the womb knows and the womb is our primordial mother.

So I ask you, what is begging, yearning to pour forth from the insides? This part that no patriarchal entity can ever take away or misuse or abuse. This part that has just barely, barley been scratched on the surface. It’s this power that we now live within, we now choose to call our own, to lay a claim to something that has always been inside. Not mind, not mine, not anyone, for we are simply the portals, yet portals with a voice, and portals with a pulse, and a story and a path. And a soul. Claim to the creation of it all for we are the ones who brought it all forth. From deep inside, you need not hide, hide away from what you know to be true. You are here, to awaken within the stew. Come up for air and remember why you’re here, let go of the cost of loosing one’s stare.

And hold your own. Hold your own and know you are never alone. Ancient ancestors walk beside you. Those who paved the way, who were killed for their truth, your truth, that you now share. They speak forth through you, and they hold your head high to not lower your stare, they support, they uplift you and they let you crumble and fall when safe to receive, they know what you’re made of and they know what you need. You’re safe to let go, to let yourself bleed. And honor the blood as the holiest of holies. All is coming back online, one small step at a time. You need not worry, or fight against the tide, it’s happening for you, and your beloved benevolent ancestors are by your side.

The womb, the heart womb, the body, the soul. It knows what you need and it knows where to go.

Divine receptivity is the power of the yoni.

Dive right in and see what you discover. No need for proof, of this that or the other, just presence and patience and the space to allow, all veils of illusion to dissolve and the breakage of all spells.

I love you, you powerful and ancient soul. I know you, I see you, and I love you in full.