Memoirs of my heart
Roots and All..
I have been journeying the past two years into territory that never before have i traversed.
I have scaled impenetrable cliffs, meandered through the most luscious forests, trekked the harshest deserts parched and trembling. I have encountered mirages, fairies, trolls and shadows that follow my every step. I have been christened by waterfalls and dragged into the depths of the wild seas by powerful tides whose surges demand my surrender. I have been kissed by countless sunrises, every cell ravished by the resplendent hues of life arising. I have met grace in darkened alleys, inside empty cupboards and within my body as lovemaking fuses my cells to the dark light of cosmos.
I choose to live.
A few days ago I woke up with the crusty remains of black vomit splattered across my white dress..
It was ‘spiritual vomit’; you could say I was officially christened by the divine mother.
I should have bottled the remaining amount really now I think about it- I could have anointed objects around my house to make them more ‘spiritual’, like my vacuum cleaner or clothes horse.
Dear people, I am no longer a plant medicine virgin for I have purged out of every orifice the mighty dark mother, Ayahuasca.
Up until recently I thought I was alive.
It was a lie waiting to be unwrapped. A fraudulent gift from the universe delivered in the form of relationships and circumstances.
My life so far has been mostly half lived, unbeknown to me.
I thought I was rocking this life thing.
I want to get rooted.
We have officially entered a time of tremendous change as the earth’s Kundalini shifts from the Himalayas to the Andes, a move away from asceticism and monotheism to unity-consciousness and symbioism.
We are also transitioning from the age of Pisces to Aquarius which signals a new paradigm of collective consciousness.
I for one cannot wait.
Bring on evolution.
A Letter to Men
I want to discuss a topic that is close to my heart, or my ass for that matter - my passion for the base. Firstly, let's put aside the physical pleasure and expansion that can come from opening the anus to penetration and talk about the emotional and spiritual significance of this part of the body and why it is essential for our wholeness.
Teachings From Beyond The Veils
I want to talk about a topic that is close to my heart and one that activates some of my work in the world.
The gender and sexual conditioning of men and male bodied people.
I live in a country that is machoistic. I grew up in a culture where boys are brought up to accentuate their masculinity and minimise (or deny) their femininity. In Australia, even to suggest a ‘man’ has feminine traits is a grave insult to his character and one that could be unsafe for him.
Archetypes have been surfacing within our collective culture for thousands of years. The origins of archetypal theorem trace back to Plato who deciphered them as mental forms imprinted in the soul. Jung described archetypes as universal patterns and images found within our collective unconscious. These images have emerged through mythologies, religions, legends and for me, through direct transmissions.
Sexually Empowered Woman
When I was in my twenties I remember reading an incredible book called Midwifing Death by Leslene Della Madre and it literally transformed my life. Reading about cultures that existed on this earth that revered and honoured the sacred feminine in women, of the earth and in cosmology; my cellular memory ignited.
An Inner Quest
What is a sexually empowered woman?
Facilitating workshops on sexuality I have often encountered projections of my own sexual life; assumptions of raging promiscuity, orgies or boundary-less engagements. These projections are somewhat inaccurate and although I have explored many frontiers of sexual expression, I have also had many years of little sexual engagement with others.
Being empowered sexually does not necessarily equate to having lots of sex or multiple partners, in fact a sexually empowered woman may not even have sex or be engaging others.
My Hungry Vagina
I have just emerged from a three-day vision quest upon ancient lands buffered by wild rainforests and rugged ravines. The three days involved fasting and silence. When the distractions of media, food and connection can no longer satiate the self, we then meet what lies beneath. For me it was a feeling of loneliness, a hum that has been pulsing in the background for most of my life. Many of us feel alone, mine comes from an innate feeling of being separate from the wholeness of source. The vastness of the eternal often feels unreachable to me in my mere human form. I sat with the discomfort of loneliness for days and watched the fears that arose from the archipelago of isolation.
Mother or Whore?
I am fascinated with the archetype of the temptress, she has been alive in my psyche from a young age. I have been shining a light on her dark aspects that exist within me recently and noticing how I can activate her seductress powers to attract and enact my desires, sometimes consciously and often unconsciously. She often shows up as ‘my hungry vagina’, eager to devour. She is the sweet purring and soft scented perfume of my longing, she is the lubricated pinkness that conceals the dark calling of my womb and my insatiable appetite to be fucked. When my temptress is in the light, she is a gift to those around her, she is playful and exudes charm and sexual magnetism, when she lurks in the shadow of my unconscious, she can become a sexual predator, fuelled by a hunger that is felt but unseen.
Paying to Connect
The church of Saint Sulpice is the beginning of the Roseline, a meridian that runs from Paris to the south of France. St Sulpice is the first sacred site marking the Magdalene mysteries, a cathedral built around a womb. The womb represents the birthing portal of life and our eventual return through the uterine waters to physical death. The Magdalene mysteries document Mary Magdalene’s arrival to these foreign lands with her children after the death of Jesus, her beloved.
The heart of this church holds a statue of Mother Mary standing on a dead snake, the symbol of the devil. In Christian mythology the snake is Lilith, the dark feminine. I first encountered this statue in Ireland last year and it is a significant image highlighting the deep schism between the light and dark feminine in Christianity.
Clawing my way back to Eden
This week a sister and I held a joint sensual bodywork session with a male client. Prior to commencing I invited him to share what he desired to feel and experience, he replied he was looking for connection. During the session he told us that he had not been touched for some time, repeating “it’s been so long” over and over. As I felt into his body my heart ached, I could feel his yearning for touch and connection, and I felt the imprint of it’s long absence. During the session he was wild- eyed, almost in shock that two women were touching him. holding him, loving him. He told us afterwards that it was one of the most incredible experiences he has ever had.
It was a thirty minute session.
Ceasefire. Treaty. Truth
This full moon has brought many insights into my waking world, themes around acknowledging and embracing my desires, even those that seem ‘unpalatable’.
I have recently returned from a week’s training in Spiritual, Sexual, Shamanic Initiation (ISTA) during which I met a powerful energy in my shadow- that of the temptress, seductress, whore. I have journeyed with the archetype/goddess Lilith for many years, feeling her resonance, her anguish and rage. She is deeply embedded within my personal and transpersonal experience of life and has birthed many projects and visions (including Sex Witch). During the week’s immersion I saw clearly that I had (consciously /unconsciously) cast her sexual expression to the cobwebbed corners of my psyche. During the week I felt her intensely snaking up my spine, her claws around my neck, hissing in my ear.
An Arsonist at Heart
As we approach the longest night of year, the Winter Solstice, and my fortieth year circumnavigating the sun, I have been journeying with themes of armistice, of laying down my sword and surrendering my combat with this world.
I came in fighting. Kicking and screaming with the obstetrician and his forceps. Landing in this world as a child I felt the wounds of patriarchy in my body, I felt the ancestral abuse of my female lineage as if they were my own. I had no understanding or context as a child to what I was feeling, I know it now to be the pain and suffering of women, of my ancestors and on a deeper level the oppression and denial of the goddess, of the divine feminine.
“I don’t really get angry”
I have heard this line repeated by numerous voices and paradoxically; it pisses me off.
Why do we deny anger?
The pseudo spiritual diatribe of accepting life as ‘part of the journey’ is helpful when your car breaks down or if your soy latte turns out to be dairy. Passive acceptance however is redundant when applied to the intolerable aspects of the human race and a great way to sedate oneself into complacency. There are things in this world that should not be tolerated, accepted or adhered to; enter my old mate Anger.
Slowly Spiralling In
I am currently in a state of deep yearning.
It has been with me for weeks now.
You may know this state well if you inhabit the feminine frequently.
It is an insatiable desire to ravish and be ravished.
For me, it is a desire to merge with all that I love in life.
To deeply rest under the skin of my beloveds.
To crawl inside their heart space and wrap myself in their soul.
My womb is open for occupation
She wants to swallow the world in her darkness.
Digesting everyone and everything.
Greedily harbouring it all.
Harvests of the Sun
We have just moved past the autumn equinox, a time when day and night are of equal length. Equinox’s are the moments in which the plane of the earth’s equator passes through the centre of the sun. Post equinox sees us in the slow descent into darkness as the light of the sun softens and the evenings whisper impending cool. The emergence of winter beckons, like the return of a faraway memory, an old companion. I tend to prattle on about the energies of winter (well it is my name) and the descent through autumn but this is because I feel we live mostly in solar consciousness, expected to always be ‘on’, plugged in and tuned to the outer experience; seen, heard, and witnessed in the light of our external existence. We operate through the spotlight of the ego (or sun) and what an eloquent platform to demonstrate this, as I post this on Facebook.
Today is Lammas or Lughnasadh, the first of the three cycles of the pagan calendar that offer us a moment to pause and reflect on the seeds of manifestation in our lives and to celebrate what already is. The meaning of Lammas comes from the Saxon name for the ‘feast of bread’. Lughnasadh comes from the Celtic festival of midsummer when Lugh the Corn King was celebrated for the grain harvest at this time of year. In ancient cultures Lammas celebrated the light of the sun warming the grains, ready for harvesting in turn nourishing the community. We are somewhat separated in Western culture from the cycles of the earth’s bounty yet we can still feel and move with the energy that Lammas initiates as it is deeply echoed in the blueprint of our world.