A Call To The Women

What is moving through you?

A New Moon in Cancer has brought up so much depth, weight, and in-her wisdom. 

I’ve been working with water. Standing in the river and meditating with its (her) movement. I would feel myself cut through the water, her energy flowing around my body, my mass of cells split her current forever changing whatever happens downstream. But sometimes her flow would roll and dance through my being, massaging and caressing every surface of subatomic particles… forever changing the sequence of my cells yet to come.

I practiced surrender, by walking and swimming against the current. Then turning belly up—all my senses muffled by the water in my ears and the breath keeping my nose above the surface. No idea what terrain lie ahead. Accepting the fear and discomfort of aquatic algae that brushed my back as I drift. 

I began my bleed just as Earth’s moon hid her light and coaxed us into dark night of her womb. 

Laying in the sun, I held space, literally, for every sensation. I stretched the skin of my lower belly under my finger tips. I witnessed the trauma that squats in my womb and allowed my breath to enter the tissues of my uterus, spiral on her walls, and vortex out of my body in an exhale so visceral it traveled in a circle, ending and beginning again in the belly of my great grandmother’s wounds. 

It was a revolution, a circumference, a round and plump drop of blood on the mossy ground. One full trip around the sun in one breath. 

Last week I had the threat of sexual violence on my massage table. During my meditations, I asked myself where I was feeling this in my body. 

The answer was in my grandmothers. I felt it in the throats of all the women it took to make me who felt they could not speak. I felt it in my gums, and in my teeth. I felt it in every version of myself that was young and younger who thought she had to grit and bear. 

I inhaled air that tasted like a sip of water so clean and pure it quenched the thirst of a thousand sons. 

I prayed for Kali’s protection and she canceled my new clients. 

I thanked her.

Photo by Jooleeannelee on instagram

Birth is the closest experience we have to death.

I haven’t done anything with my End Of Life Doula education, and in fact feel called to be present to birth work and serve mothers and women. 

I have never witness death.

I have never witnessed birth. 

But I have been born. 

I’m a maiden aching to serve my Mother. The Great Mother. Mothers in my community. 

I find myself desperately trying to bring back the memories of my mother’s pregnancies, as I’m the oldest of 6. Unfortunately, I wasn’t present for any of my siblings' births. 

Society has convinced many women that the only people who are safe to have in the room of birth are medical professionals, not the women of their community. 

The miracles, tragedies, pain and ecstasy of birth are held tight behind closed doors rather than held in the hands of women. The women who were once revered, and still hold the power to stand in the thresholds of the portals of life and death.

The maidens are suffering from this exclusion—only to perpetuate the pattern of wool covered eyes, fear and loneliness.

Perhaps my call to serve the community in death was also the call to support the death of the maiden and the birth of the mother. 

Are you pregnant, postpartum or trying to conceive?

Are you experiencing the grief of a recent loss, abortion, or miscarriage?

Are you one of the thousands of women who fell into the trap of internet prostitution and seeking true empowerment and reclamation to the great honor of being female?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, know that you have options for sliding scale body work.

♥️