I cried for Her.
In the throes of a painful period, I found myself sobbing not because of the intense cramps, but because of a deep, profound mourning … for lost female wisdom.
Somewhere along my ancestry line existed a wise and well woman who lived harmoniously within her female body, within her female nature.
Periods were not painful. Birth not traumatic. Rest not judged. Age not feared.
A woman’s wildness and intuitive, body-centered intelligence revered.
I cried for Her. This wise and well woman ancestor, and all that’s been lost.
And in the grieving, there was a stream of hope.
A call to re-remember.
And in the re-remembering I would shed all that I had absorbed, been in-doctor-inated into believing about the pure magnificence that is the female body.
That is my female body.
This re-remembering is what I am now living. Rituals and routines that return me to my re-wilding. An expansion of grace that creates an ease in my ever-shifting tides.
This is a dance, of course.
Perfection is not required and not wanted here. There is sublime exquisiteness found in the messiness that women have been taught to hide. Our fullest expression is so wanted and so needed. To show up as we are without apology and without the survival strategy of needing to prove … we are medicine by embodying and exuding our very feminine essence.
We are the strength of surrender.
We are the courage of vulnerability.
We are the heart-glowing beauty of receptivity. And beauty is simply being in sensual self-communion with our inner Goddess, women’s bodies enlivened by soul.
(The rest – the outfits, the haircuts, the skincare routines – are all just other ways to express creativity, to show and take sweet care.)
The other day, I surrendered down to rest upon a fuzzy white blanket and I received a cranial-sacral massage.
My body speaks to me in images.
The images that appeared included an armored up Elf Warrioress, Galadriel from the Tolkien-inspired series, “Rings of Power” on my right side (the masculine side of the body) and an endearing image of a mother and her child shimmered into existence on my left side (the feminine side of the body). The two were in conversation. The right not ready to soften, not ready to release, holding on. The left understanding and still gently encouraging the release.
Finally, Galadriel, that armored up Elf, took off her armor, radiant and free, and the two images made peace and subsided as I cried.
I cried because the voice that was my own and the one that belonged to my wise and well ancestor from long ago and right now whispered to me.
“You’re the ancestor you’ve been waiting for.”
And so are you.
The next Body Writes is called The Woman of New Earth – for the women who are re-remembering, re-wilding, returning to realign with their truest Goddess-essence natures.
We will intuitively move, we will meditate on the creative power that is our wombs/the energetic space of the womb, we will write and we will rest.
(And you can read more about the session here :: https://meredithkingsley.com/body-writes/2022/10/11/body-writes-to-the-women-of-new-earth )
We gather in the sacred garden of the Zoom on Saturday, October 22nd at 6:45pm-8:45pm EST. Registration link is right here :: https://meredithkingsley.com/new-products/body-writes-the-woman-of-new-earth
If you’d love to attend but can’t make it live, I’ll be recording, just kindly email me to let me know so I can make sure to flow on that recording.
Be in your rhythm. Soften into the power of ease and SHINE.