We define ourselves in terms of what we do, our interests, and further solidify an image of ourselves via our dress, our hobbies, what we read, who we engage with.
All these attachments to definitions of ourselves create our ‘story’.
But are we these things or do we mold ourselves into a particular image? Are we separating ourselves from others by creating a persona that lies in layers upon our beingness?
Does our spirit expand within this story we have written about ourselves, or do we shrink as ego grasps tightly to it.
These are questions that we may ask ourselves, and note, there is not a right or wrong answer, we are here to learn through our experiences.
I identify with being a witch, a writer, a tree-hugger, and the list goes on as I pile on other labels which define me – bi-sexual, forager, environmentalist – down to the car I prefer, the boots I wear, the food I cook, the way I keep my home.
And still, who am I?
I stand before the mirror and do not look away. I gaze into my eyes. Somewhere deep in there…do not look away…I exist. Strip me bare of those other things, I am just like you. Beyond the stories we create, we are One.
Image: Eva Green as Miss Peregine in Tim Burton’s ‘Miss Peregine’s Home for Peculiar Children’
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image: Wild Woman Sisterhood
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But I will fill her once again, find my tools and repair her tears. I will feed her persimmons and pears, laughter and adventure and tell her tales…of love that nurtures and love that heals.
And then I’ll open her once again to one who will kiss her beautiful scars. She will know, by the touch of his soul, that she will never be stripped bare again.
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She tried with all her being not to rock the boat, to make peace, to delete her needs and wants for the sake of her family, her partner, her friends.
But at night she would grind her teeth, and toss and turn, and nurse an ache in her heart to be wild and be free. She longed for expression.
She wanted to scream – I Am HERE!
I am tired. So tired that sleep cannot heal me!
But nobody could hear her, or see her, because she had been wrapped in a veil of polite servitude, and under that veil, she was invisible.
What if she took off that veil? What would happen? Would everything and everyone suddenly collapse around her?
Deep down she knew that it wouldn’t. Deep down she knew the questions she must ask herself.
“Why am I so afraid of what others will say about me if I get off this crazy merry-go-round? Will they say I’m selfish? Who will I be if I am not this? Why are women taught to be ‘nice’? Do I love myself enough to focus on me?”
She did not have all the answers, but she did know that she had nothing left, and the greatest thing she would lose was her faith in herself. Because when she looked in the mirror, she didn’t recognize the empty-eyed woman staring back at her.
And so, she leapt.
She leapt into the unknown, into the ‘what if’.
And there was a stillness. In her heart and in her soul. She took a breath. She was alive. She took a step. She was free.
She began to fly.
Art – LA Street Art/artist unknown
“We women haven’t been taught to choose a man who will serve our soul. We’ve been taught, instead, to choose men who will save us: from poverty, from our loneliness, from being single, from a society that values marriage over sacred intimacy.
But now things have changed, we have changed them, and we can courageously describe that desire within our soul: We want a partner who is conscious of his own sacredness. We want a lover who can vulnerably share himself with us.
Wise woman, wild woman, ancient muse of artists and poets, you crave a partner who can discern your siren call.
You’ve been the shadow that’s slipped past him on moonlit walks when he’s been searching his heart. He’s reached out to grasp you, but the time was never right.
Like a wisp of wind, you’ve eluded him on his journey toward enlightenment.
While you’ve been soaking your bones in mystery and reading sacred texts, he’s been feeding his mind with poetry and prose.
Perhaps he wasn’t ready, perhaps you weren’t either.
You are awoken in a way that no longer draws an ordinary man. You need a man whose strength is not only in his hands. You need a man whose character makes your heart pound and your body lose control.
Wild woman, spiritual seeker, choose a man who’ll feed your soul.
You know your sacred man exists because you’ve seen him in your cards:
When you find a man who feeds your soul, you find a man who can feed your body as well.
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