Of wanting, of being, the sacred.

The earth has disappeared beneath my feet,Illusion fled from all my ecstasy. Now like a radiant sky creature God keeps opening. God keeps opening Inside of Me.

~ Hafiz

 

I will forever be curious about feeling like two separate women, one born post ovulation, one born post the female bleed. Their needs, cravings, givings, abilities and heart strings belong to them entirely as though not connected. They share one spirit that flows through the happy and sad of living and choices and some unknowingly fierce female bond of light and shadow and the surprise of becoming reborn.

It is a sacred experience to be a woman. To know the depth of feeling and mood and cycles like moon and tide.

It is a sacred experience to be a woman. To find honor in the craziness, the lack of permission and the flow of the river.

It is a sacred experience to be a woman. To understand deserving as a practice and the fire stoking of stillness.

It is a sacred experience to be a woman. To love men as a woman, to love women, to hold love like a spinning top.

It is a sacred experience to be a woman. To trust the threads that form circles and let our bodies rebirth each month, twice. Or more.

It is a sacred experience to be a woman. To dance in wildly open secrets, words and touch mingled inside of daily rituals.

It is a sacred experience to be a woman. To want to feel holy, be holy, while riding horseback naked and exposed.

It is a sacred experience to be a woman. To feel herself, touch herself, cry with herself, be with herself and explode into the connections that keep her alive.

It is sacred. Holy.

Surprise me today. Surprise me.