Have you ever met a woman who was just one thing?
I’ve been waking up with her breath filling my ears. A hum like a soft parade underwater. She has been arriving for eons.
Sometimes it’s sweet things in my mother’s singing voice. And she is a strange and gentle rain around me, soaking my clothes until they suction to my skin. The liberation of complete surrender. No hope or even desire of staying dry. I wake up in a unfamiliar but longed-for downpour. Every atom of me singing-crying homecoming praise.
And sometimes I wake up with copper in my mouth. Like swallowing my own blood. Imprisoned. Or eyeless beasts chasing me. I cannot move my legs. Everything is dark and clawing towards my throat. I wake up with the knowing she is locked away. Wilted, tired, ugly looking, starving for air, sunlight, awareness…and rising. I didn’t know she was there. I am afraid to look at her.
Have you ever met a woman who was just one thing? I haven’t. But I’ve met women. I’ve been women who have wanted to be, pretended to be. One thing. It’s just easier. Until it’s not.
Until the dreams come. Quiet at first. Easily ignored in the summer months while the sun is high. But as the wheel turns to winter, darkness grows, so does her voice. She is calling you back in. To the source of all things. That point at the center where the dream of you was conceived.
You don’t want to go. It’s too much work. What will I find there? I’m afraid my whole life will have to change if I listen to her. What will I have to let go of? What will I find out about myself? What if what I hold dear is not what I hold dear? What if I am meant for more? What if I am starving myself of beauty? What if I am asked to let love in?
And the dreams come. You wake up to the smell of fear. Thick and heavy in your throat. The life that once soared is a heavy mass above you. It fades as you move into your day, mostly. But if you stand still enough at any time you can feel it tug in your guts. The woman who wants to rise is clawing at your insides.
And the dreams keep coming. You wake up with songs in your body that you’ve never heard before but have always been in love with. Then they fade as you go about your day. But you hold a hunger for the song all day, an echo. Thirsting for sleep so you can be reunited.
I’ve never met a woman who was just one thing. All the ones I know are vast, mysterious, bright, forgiven, lush, neverending. That’s you.
May we stand aside, part the seas within to make room for the One who is rising. May we wake with blood and songs in our mouths. May we write them down. May we see. May we not look away. May we clear space. May we empty. More and more and more. Until all the women in us feel welcomed, loved, celebrated. Until all the women in us have come home.
Craving a deeper spiraling inward towards the wisdom of the soul during this growing dark? Join me for an 11 day journey towards the Winter Solstice: Illumination eCourse starting December 11.
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