Safety

Safety. To lose sight of shore. To let ourselves be drawn out into an unknown dawn. To be pulled under and learn we can breathe underwater. We must know we are safe.

I hear so many women craving surrender. And what beauty that is! And to feel that we can split open and still return as whole women, we must feel that we are held, ok, loved.

Whether from ourselves, a lover, a lake…safety can be built. We can teach our nervous systems to recognize it when it’s here. And when it’s not. We can learn to create it ourselves. Unlearning and unraveling the lashings of a world that cares very little for our physical, emotional, sexual safety. It takes time. And I believe it can be done.

The ancient nerves can be fused back into rest. The ones that search relentlessly for danger. That never sleep. They can be rocked, loved, cared for by your own hands and heart. The urgency and freeze and collapse and terror. It can be unwound. Little by little. Until you are soft like the winter bear in her den. Held by earth and trusting the earth beneath you. Breathing deeply and fully.

When safety arrives in the body, we can come home again. Into what our bodies truly are: magical playgrounds of beauty, pleasure, bliss, or whatever we chose them to be.