Every love story has its own path. But they all involve surrender. To surrender is to allow. It’s an opening to what is already there, breathing space into the alchemy of emotional intimacy.
“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.
The rest here…
I want to know you like this… I am a romantic and believe in the love that happens when souls collide. Not dependent love, connected love. I write about love like this because we need freedom from love that shelters us, that restricts us, that keeps us from reaching so deep that we feel the undercurrents of why we are together.
One day she remembered….that she was all those things she sought to connect with.
The wind, her breath and emotions.
The sea, her intuition and womb.
The earth, her wisdom and form.
The sky, her expansive soul. 🌛Find comfort and grounding in the knowledge that you are part of all that Is. We are never outside of the mystery. We are the mystery in human form. ❤
Photo credit: Ariel Lustre on Unsplash
“The wildish task of a man is to find the true names of a woman, and not to misuse that knowledge to seize power over her, but rather to comprehend the numinous substance from which she is made, to let it was over him, amaze him, shock him, even spook him. And to stay with it. And to sing out her names over her. It will make her eyes shine. It will make his eyes shine.” C.P. ESTES
I am studying the work of Clarissa Pinkola Estes and find this quote especially powerful. To know a woman and love her, a man must not be afraid of her nature and many names. She cannot be pushed into boxes nor contained there so that her mate will feel safe. She is Wild, like fire. This applies to a woman’s every relationship as well, and to any lover she may take. A lover worthy of Wild Woman withstands her many seasons and returns time and again with questions about her journey. And she reciprocates this love from her most liberated heart.
Heart hugs and soul kisses! Find me here ~Instagram
Within every woman lives the Wild Woman archetype and she longs for expression via our emotions, our creativity and our sexuality.
She awakens in each of us at unique times.
We often wish for the Masculine to embrace Wild Woman and seek the Wild Man.
But how can we hope for the Masculine to understand and welcome Wild Woman into present-day consciousness when we ourselves are afraid of her intuitive power?
Every act of self-discovery and intuition is a step forward. We awaken together!
**Read about wild women and sacred sexuality in my novel The Dark Pool
(artist credit unknown for original painting – extending gratitude)
“I want to feel it all today—with you.
The fire of our beginning and the burn of our ending.
I find myself counting up the years we could have together and wishing that we had met a century or two ago so I could look into the future and not see a horizon.
Centuries with you don’t scare me but horizons do, even if it is bathed in the sweetest sunset I have ever seen. You are the sun that spreads itself across the sky in brilliant hues of amber and vermilion, filling my eyes with impossible dreams.
You are the inconceivable made real, the rise of a flock of sparrows into a cerulean sky.
In the beauty of your love, there has been an awakening of my soul. That which has been born within me now feeds the moments of each day we share. It is the manna for the hungry, an artesian well hidden in the dusty Sahara.
I want to feel it all today, the ache of being apart, the searing anticipation of being together, the insecurities that haunt me—the fire that singes the corners of my being.
I want to feel what it would be like to watch you walk away. It’s not the ranting of madness, it’s the allowing space for whatever will be, and loving you through every motion of the wheel that spins us together.
I would like to know what it would be like to hold your hand when it is wrinkled and soft because we’ve grown into wise old souls, and to know that your hand would still be in mine while I draw my last breath.
I would like to drown in the youth of your body as it is now and offer you mine and for what are just seconds in the face of eternity. I want to draw every ounce of passion from your skin. I would like to paint the essence of my rawness onto you like a tattoo. I would like to wear you also.
Today I feel the intensity of when we were not yet, and what is now, and ours no more. It is all beautiful in its own way. It is all a part of what makes us real.
If you were a painting you would be a Monet, a garden made of my own inspiration, my own impressions, a symphony of colors that translated onto canvas was only a shadow of the depth of my feelings—because those I could not share wholly with the world—some things are only for you and me.
I want to feel it all today, what makes us and what unmakes us, what is real and what is soaked in fear, the shadow lands and the fullness of the moon on our faces.
Our love appeared as an approaching wave, a mirage of aquamarine and frothy whites. It threatened to drown me, then, cocooning me in the sanctuary of its belly, offered respite from the years of searching for you.
“And then there was you,” is how I begin the stories that I recount to myself at night when I want to remember how we started. You found me. Today I want to feel again what it was like before there was you—it’s becoming difficult to remember that me.
Before there was you there was a space in my heart that waited.
When there was you, I unfolded my wings and testing their strength, leapt from the edge of what was known into the abyss. I’m still on the wing—flying an uncharted course. But, that is all I ever really wanted—to be free even as I was the taken.
I want to feel it all today. Your kiss, your smile, your words as they caress me.
On this journey, I would like to know you as a wolf knows the call of its pack, to be embraced, to be lonely, to be the huntress and the hunted—to be consumed.
Today, we are the dawn, one day we will be the dusk.
I want to feel it all. With you.”
Read about an erotic, polyamorous relationship in my novel, The Dark Pool