An Inner Quest
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.
Connection and comfort came from the lands so each day I offered myself to this intimacy, singing to the mountains, reading poetry to the river, bleeding in waterfalls and crying under trees. I found family in the magpies that visited me each day, delighted in the platypus and spent hours watching dragonflies flitter over tall grasses.
The deepest medicine from this quest came one evening when I played a song of women chanting. After days of silence, hearing the voice of women singing prayers to the grandmothers of times long before opened a chasm of tears that flooded through my body. The voices were a balm to my heart, the softness that poured through melted the stoic part of me that was enduring my quest; being brave, holding it together with my masculine will and valour. The feminine wisdom was missing; I had forgotten the medicine of gentleness.
On my knees that night awash with grief, I confessed my need for her embrace, to be held in the arms of the sacred feminine.
Without her I am lost.
It is not enough to be a voice for her, to hold spaces for others to access her or to write about her. I am called to live her, to allow the sacred salve of the feminine to weave through me and then out into the world.
That night I ate a mango, self-pleasured softly and danced with the grandmothers, feeling their spirits surround me.
My aloneness eased.
The next day I felt a translucent sheath of calm encasing me and the lands that held me.
By Winter Jade Icely