Resting In The Womb

divine feminine

Today I felt inspired by reading the writing of two powerful, radiant women–Sera Beak, and this post by Charmaine Melanson-Haworth.  Inspired, and at the same time a little jealous.

There are moments when I look into the mirror and am astounded by the woman I see emerging.  Her grace, her wisdom, the light behind her eyes, the kindness in her grin.  Those moments are precious, but too few.  Mostly, I feel heavy and tired, my body still processing the remnants of infection, my spirit still trying to ground in this new city, this new world.  Thoroughly un-radiant.

I want to play.  To share my gifts with others.  I want to be able to run, or do yoga again without pain or inevitable exhaustion.  I’d love to be able to eat without nausea, cramping or bloating.  It would be nice (*shakes fist at the heavens*) if a single day could pass without my emotions fluctuating wildly from one extreme to the other.

(Strangely, in the midst of writing this rant, there is a smile that wants to burst forth from my lips.  A soft, reluctant smile, as Love wraps me in her arms and whispers, “It will be ok, Noella. Trust.”)

Being a healer and being thoroughly unable to heal myself, at least in the timing I would like to see it happen, is incredibly frustrating.  I have a new found respect, awe even, for the inner workings of the physical and subtle bodies.  An awareness of energetic blockages that are linked to lineages through space and time…thick, sluggish, stagnant energy that WILL NOT MOVE unless the deeply embedded patterns that hold it in place are confronted and brought into the light of Presence.

My experiences these past few months have thrust me deeper into initiation than I could have ever possibly imagined. The words “Patience” and “Divine Timing” have been my greatest teachers.

There has been a “good riddance!” release of a watered-down spiritual practice–my old way of suppressing torrents of pain with positive affirmations. I have grown tremendously by stepping into authenticity and owning my howls of anguish.  Holding despair as just as precious and valuable as the Love that contains it all.

Tonight, I will rest in my Mother’s womb, the sweet garden of the Feminine.  I will attempt to set aside frustration and jealousy, but thoroughly forgive myself if I simply can’t.  In this space, I promise to allow myself the time to truly, fully heal. To restore, and be nurtured. To embrace exhaustion as part of my body’s natural healing process.  To acknowledge every end of my emotional spectrum as Divinity.

I promise to see myself as whole. As beautiful in my shadows as I am in my radiance.

 

N

 

surrender2

Be crumbled. So wild flowers will come up where you are.

You have been stony for too many years.

Try something different. Surrender.

~Rumi

surrender1

I wish to see the night and the day united as one shade of grey…something beautiful…
~Myznah Osiris
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2 Comments Add yours

  1. And the walls come crumbling down… How Ive needed to cry these tears(and so many more). It’s hard trying to be perfect or something when the something doesn’t exist and the surrender is the abyss inside I thought I was taught to run from… Yet now I want it to consume me… I always have… Yet still fight it… Sigh. :’) it’s our skin that dies.

    Thank you. Thank you

    Like

    1. So grateful and moved to read this, Kady. It is hard, playing the game of perfection. Sweeter, to surrender and be consumed. Thank you for sharing your heart. ❤

      Like

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