Courting Ms. Violet

It is a Wednesday afternoon in late April.  The day is overcast and cold for the middle of Spring.  I wear my winter coat and sling my foraging bag over my shoulder.  I am off to Central Park and pray to the water elementals to hold off until I am finished harvesting.  

I am on a mission.  Making violet medicine.  She’s been calling to me all Spring.   While my ambitious appetite wants to go out and harvest many things and make lots of different tinctures, I am reminded my herbal teacher’s mantra, learn one plant a time.  During my entire seven-month herbal apprenticeship we were asked to find a plant ally and get to know just one plant for seven months intimately.  While I learned much about many different plants during this time, my relationship to my plant ally that I meditated with for seven months is of course the strongest.   

This season, a new plant ally has risen up to be greeted and I am becoming more familiar with her delightful acquaintance.  Violet (viola odorata).  This is my third time harvesting from her this season.  First was a glycerin based tincture, then a vinegar from her leaves that are high in vitamin C along with a violet cordial which turned out to be truly delicious.  Today I was guided to make an oil from her leaves as a new base for womb and breast salves and a vodka-based tincture from all her parts. 

Violet called to me across the park and told me exactly where to gather her.  In my shamanic herbal apprenticeship, we were taught to listen to and hear the voice, song and healing energy of the plant through channeling the plants deva, or spirit.  While this may sound mystical or other-worldly, it is actually quite simple and involves deep presence, listening and a little trust and belief in magic. 

While many violets were growing along the Central Park pathways, she was very specific with me about which ones wanted to be harvested.  She asked that I call her Ms. Violet and sing to her while I harvested her.  She told me where there were extra leaves that needed to be cleared so the ivy could grow and to be generous when I took her flowers because the spring ones were decorative and her true flowers that seeded next years violets would be up in the fall. 

On singing and picking, I was transported to when I was a little girl picking wild violets in my grandmother’s backyard.   It was a ritual I relished every spring.  I would bring a small bouquet of these delicate, purple, handpicked flowers and present them to my grandmother.  She would put them in a glass vase with opaque glass violets etched into it. The vase went in my grandmother’s living room among all my grandmother’s beautiful colored glass and antiques.  Somedays, after picking a fresh bouquet, I would sit next to them in the green velvet chair in my grandmother’s living room and just look at their shape – their long slender stem and the ever so fragile nature of their petals.  I sighed wistfully at this sweet memory of long ago.  Had I known they were edible at the time I’m sure I would have found them a tasty snack.

During a self-pleasuring meditation ritual after I had harvested my first batch of violets this summer, my clitoris actually appeared to me as a violet.  Her delicate petals opening and unfolding, the beautiful engorged veins in my labia mirroring the lovely purple striping in her petals.  I know women often refer to their vulvas as flower like but this time I got that metaphor on a much deeper more profound level. 

As I harvested in the park today, Ms. Violet told me she would sooth this chronic throat irritation that had been with me for months and when I used her tincture and she would help me speak more clearly and effectively when I sometimes jumbled my words or sentences together.  Violet has a delicate but steady flow, like a well tuned violin being playing long sustained notes.  She told me she would help my throat and voice come back into balance from the nodes and polyps I had developed on my vocal cords.  Her heart shaped leaves reflected the shape of my thyroid.  My body loved having a fresh violet leaf placed right at my collarbone to support my sluggish thyroid that sometimes needs encouragement. 

Violet has a soothing and claming effect on the nervous system and supports regulating excess heat in the body.  She has a love for women’s breasts and is a natural supporter of healthy breast tissue and helps smooth out lumps, bumps and cysts both in the breast tissue and in ovaries.  Her leaves make a wonderful poultice over skin irritants, eczema, or places where there’s been chronic pain and inflammation. 

If you find yourself in a field of violets stop and sit with her.  Sample a few of her flowers.  Some are being candied in my kitchen as I write this (painted with egg white and sprinkled with sugar and left to dry.)  She is a beautiful ally to become acquainted with holding the coolness of Spring in her body to relieve the body’s natural inflammatory tendencies and a wonderful generous plant high in vitamins that the body loves. 

Thank you Ms. Violet for all of your wonderful medicine and your generous nature!

My Husband 'The Animal'

My Husband - 'The Animal'

The fifth week of the Sensual Shaman Immersion we explore our animal spirits, and like previous Immersions it proved to be both powerful and transformational for the entire group. We journeyed to reclaim our inner animals and spent an evening roaring, purring and prowling our way through the animal kingdom. There are always some surprises in the group. A timid, vulnerable woman unleashes her inner lioness, a hummingbird teaches even the largest and most serious of participants to be light and playful in his body. While it feels unfamiliar and new for most people to embody their inner animal, I must say that I have the leg up from living with one.

The very first card I ever gave my husband was a portent of our entire relationship. I picked it up at a rest stop in Tulsa when I was home visiting my family and mailed it to him a few weeks after we had met and were dating. It had a beautiful soft and sensuous Victorian woman with flowing hair draped over a roaring lion that was at her feet. Inside it said “Missing you something fierce.” I knew then, however much on an unconscious level, that the animal spirit inside of Mark would always be front and center in our relationship.

My husband is a prime example of what it means to live with a fully realized animal spirit on a daily basis. He’s a large man – 6’-2,” 245 lbs. He grew up his life being called “animal,” “beast,” “simion,” “neanderthal.” The animal in Mark, however, is perhaps the thing I love most about him. He’s a hybrid, no one animal but parts of many. Lion – being born under the sun sign Leo, he always walks with a certain amount of pride and power, Silverback Gorilla – distinguished in his community as one of New York’s long standing ‘characters’ and is often the eldest among his peers – note: I refer to him as my silver heart as the hair on his chest was the first hair on his body to turn silver while the hair on his head remains a beautiful rich brown. Lone wolf – always straying from the pack to explore new territory and ways of being, Large Workhorse for his massive strength, ability and endurance in physical work and German Shepard for his loyalty and protective nature of his home and family. What was once yelled at him as taunts and jeers in his early years, are now celebrated in our house as beautiful ways of being. My husband is, at his heart, someone who is totally at one with his inner animal. Needless to say, even in an urban environment, I live in the wild.

In most of us however, the animal spirit lays dormant or has been conditioned out of us. It is only in the most extreme circumstances, and usually beyond our control, when we ‘snap,’ that the inner animal roars awake in us for the first time. The animal spirit can and usually rises up in us in moments when we are backed into a corner, where there are no other options but to attack, devour, hunt, consume or fall victim to it. At its most unconscious shadow level, it could be violence and power-over. But what about at a conscious level? Could it be raw passion, intuitive desire, comfort and quick thinking survival? What about the animal spirit when it is consciously celebrated instead of beaten, judged or jeered at? Could the animal spirit be devotion? Could it bring us into tribe energy? Could it put us more intuitively in touch with our bodies, our environments, each other?

Our inner primal animal spirit is in our ancient brain – the brain stem, the sacrum and tailbone. It’s deep, deep in the cells of our body. An energy and ancestry we’ve evolved from over millions of years that continues to exist within us, but often on a very repressed, refined, caged level. We are taught to have manners, not enjoy our food too loudly, don’t exhibit too many signs of pleasure, be quiet during sex and certainly don’t roar, scream or cry during ecstatic states of orgasm. We’re surely not invited to burp, fart, growl, and never scratch your back against a tree.

Somehow, this animal repression and levels of refinement never really registered with my husband, Mark. In fact, the more he was taunted by his sisters, family, and other children that he was an animal, the more defiantly he embraced it. My husband’s animal spirit has evolved over the years from early days of bullying and beating up his sisters, into playful love-centered expressions of aggression that ultimately bring us closer in our marriage. He’ll wrap me in big bear hugs when I enter the home, hold me down in spooning position when I get too distracted by my reading or computer-work to be present in my body. He devours my home-cooked food so visibly with pleasure that I have found a new dharma for myself over the years in the kitchen.

But with audible pleasure, can come the expression of audible rage. My husband’s alpha animal spirit is so strong that people will often challenge him on the street, purposely running into him, bumping his shoulders, confronting his personal space. “I can take him,” the inner animal of another male speaks silently as they confrontationally approach Mark. I used to be rattled by these otherwise unexplainable interactions that were completely unprovoked. Mark would directly trigger a primal animal response in others simply by being in their presence. For the first year I was with Mark, I found these interactions absolutely baffling. Why were men so threatened by him? I found my answers in the animal kingdom. There was a need to challenge, flex, crow when another male came in proximity of an alpha male. Mark generally avoids these encounters with a brush off of his shoulder, but in his earlier years before I knew him, his young ego had his fair share of brawls and anger black outs and attacks of rage when confronted and the challenger would often be left scampering with his tail between his legs, or unconscious on the floor in front of him. In the animal kingdom, potential alphas will confront alphas as a way of attempting to overthrow the current alphas power and mark and claim their territory. When the potential challenging alpha is defeated there is a submissiveness to the current alpha and a deepening of respect.

Betas outwardly acknowledge Mark’s power size and presence - even strangers will walk by and immediately refer to him as “Big Man!” “Hey, Big Man, Yo, Big Man, You got a dollar Big Man?”

Another ‘Mark’ of the animal kingdom I’ve come to love and appreciate is loyalty and protection. One night, after being out and about forty-five minutes later than I communicated to Mark, I came home and found Mark waiting in the hall of our apartment building, standing at the door like a German Shepard. Shocked, I asked him what he was doing out here. “Honey, listen, you’re late. I’m like a German Shepard waiting for its owner to come home. I’m most loyal to you and will wait for you forever, but it also makes me crazy when you’re late. I become hyper aware of everything. I wish you could crawl inside of me and feel for one minute what I feel for you.” I imagined a silver back gorilla beating his chest on the top of mountain screaming “I Love YOOOUUUU!!!” I smiled, my shock of seeing my husband waiting in the hall receded and I stroked his face. “That’s why I love you” I told him smiling.

When we understand and fully embody it, our inner animal spirits are our allies. The animal spirit tells us exactly what we need, what to eat, who our mate is. Animal spirit is our rawest, most primal instinct. I remember growing up baffled by how birds knew how to fly and migrate or how foxes knew how to hunt. “How do they know?” I would ask my parents. “They just know,” was the only answer I could pull out of them.

This ‘just knowing’ is part of Mark’s magic. His animal instincts are now consulted in an oracle fashion by my female friends. Mark’s senses are so heightened they have become magnified. His nose is infamous among my friends. Why? Because he can smell when a woman’s is about to menstruate. He smells and senses it somewhere deep in his very acute animal brain. If one of my women friends is experiencing a late cycle she will often consult Mark. He will then come up to her hold her in an embrace and inhale her and be able to tell her how many days until her next moon with about a 90% accuracy rate. He knows when he’s in an elevator with another woman if she is menstruating and will then give me the report. The woman in apartment 12B and 6A are menstruating right now and the woman in 4D will be in two days. The woman in 8F is going through menopause and 9G is pregnant. “How do you know this?!” I would exclaim after such direct statements were being made. “Babe. I just know,” Mark would say casually and then walk off. He just knows.

In fact, this very knowing has made my relationship to my beloved husband so successful and has also deeply nourished our marriage. When thinking of an animal that has been domesticated in our world, what do they need to thrive? - love, good food, attention, exercise and play. If anything goes out of balance in my marriage and relationship to Mark or feels strained I come back to the basic tenets of husband husbandry - love, good food, attention, exercise and play.

My new love with the theatre group Dzieci was a great learning opportunity for Mark and my’s relationship. I had become intensely passionate about working with this group of artists and all of sudden all day Sunday and one evening a week plus performances I was grooving and shaking with my new community. I felt the fear arise in Mark’s system – will I still be taken care? Will I be fed? Will I be loved? A few weeks in to my new schedule, I felt a nagging suspicion that something was out of balance in our marriage. I checked in with Mark and almost word for word he voiced the above concerns – Will I still be taken care of? Will I be fed? Will I be receive enough love? The crock pot has balanced out my new schedule and husband husbandry. I prep good smells that keep Mark’s inner animal humming all day reminding him I’m there in spirit and that all good things are coming and his inner animal feels safe, nurtured and honored.

Before meeting Mark, I had wrapped myself up in doomed relationships by avoiding my inner animal spirit. I avoided asking myself basic animal instinct questions in favor of civilized concepts like ‘do they look good on paper?’ instead of ‘do I like the way my partner smells?’

In opening to your own animal spirit, I recommend to actually take a shamanic journey where you ask to be shown and introduced to your inner animal. There’s a lot of projection in this work. Everyone wants to be a lion, or tiger, or bear, or sleek panther, but some people are jackrabbits, or dolphins, or spiders. In one Immersion I had a beautiful woman who was an eel. After you claim and entrain to your animal spirit, I invite you to research and ask yourself these questions - How does your animal mate? Is it a life long partnership, is it polyamorous, does it practice serial monogamy? Is it an alpha? What living situation, nesting arrangements make it the most comfortable? What does your animal eat? I have seen time and time again people with a strong inner animal that has been deeply repressed and these people have become vegetarians as a way of justifying that they are better or more conscious about their diets than meat eaters while depriving their bodies and spirits of true nourishment that would provide them strength. I’ve also seen individuals awaken to their inner animal spirit after a session with me or a shamanic journey and immediately go out and devour a pork roast or a bucket of KFC. “Something just awoke in me,” they would say. While I don’t advocate unfettered ravenous meat eating, I do support conscious meat eating with gratitude and celebration and also respect the handful of years I was a vegetarian for giving me the information on how to consume meat consciously.

My animal spirit has changed and evolved over the years, some come to me only once and some for years. I’ve worked with Spider who has taught me the beauty and power of weaving all aspects of my life together, Phoenix who is a healing spirit and has helped me recover from adrenal burnout, and most recently Mama Grizzly Bear who is helping me move into my protective mother energy and serve as a way to embody my largeness including my rage in a conscious direct, creative and useful way rather than repressing it. Some animals may stay with us our entire life, others may visit to bring a message or usher us into a new way of being.

This week I asked my husband to pick up a new shower curtain liner. He went with his co-worker to Duane Reade to grab one on his lunch break. Perusing the selection he chose one labeled Safari that had prints of lions, tigers, cheetahs and zebras. “Why are you getting that one?” his co-worker asked. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s an inner animal thing. My wife gets it.”

In the coming weeks send me an email and let me know of your roars, growls and howls.

Fiercely,

Isis

A Crush(ing) Journey

A Crush(ing) Journey

A crush… you remember the kind – In middle school when you’d moved beyond boys and girls having cooties, or in high school, where you scrawled the name of your obsession countless times in your spiral bound notebook perhaps hyphenating the name of your beloved with your own. By adult standards, sheer silliness. I remember middle school, perhaps it’s because my heart was so open or perhaps I just had an affinity for life, but when my best friend at the time asked me who I had a crush on, my reply was - the entire seventh grade. What was there not to love? Everyone had something beautiful about them, attractive even in the awkward preteen years where hormones were raging. When hormones rage there’s very little discernment. I see it at Tantra pujas, all of a sudden the fat guy across the room who’s balding looks pretty good when you’re eye gazing with him and seeing into the very depths of his soul… heavy set and balding seem to give way to something bigger, deeper, more vast, the universal place that is loveable in all humans, the ecstasy of one-ness, our connection to Source.

Taking people into this state often in session work and facilitating groups has become common place. Yes, I see the divine in you. No I don’t want to be your girlfriend/move-in/leave my husband for you. Well, every once in a while something throws a curve ball and the universe cracks me wide open to a place of love that feels just like those days of having a crush on the entire seventh grade. Dzieci. Dzieci an experimental theatre ensemble, a shamanic tribe of artists, my Beloveds. Dzieci, my crush. Dzieci… I rolled the sound around in my mouth and even now feel the faint flutterings in my belly and I instantly feel like I’m twelve years old again.

While I suppose based on my preteen history, it’s not uncommon for me to have a crush on an entire class of people, it hasn’t happened in a while. I recall the vast memories of awakening that have been this large in my system – beginning my work with Suzanne d’Corsey the Celtic Priestess I apprenticed with for five years, attending my first Daka/Dakini Conference in Sedona and meeting my tribe and awakening to my calling to build a Holy Body temple on the Earth, and the first time I saw Dzieci’s production of Makbet and witnessing a form of what could be when theatre and the sacred are woven together in support of group transformation. Now it’s official. I have a crush, a crush on an entire group of artists who are deeply committed to their own process of transformation and to transforming the world.

Dzieci had been in my dreamscapes for weeks, see the previous blog post below this one. There was an awakening opening up in me once again, just when I was getting all cozy and comfortable in my life and feeling like I knew my shit and where I was going. Just when I was feeling like the fat cat, everything changed. Now I’m making my plans around Dzieci. I ran out before Naked Church this Sunday so I could play with Dzieci for an hour and fifteen minutes before sprinting back in a cab home to greet people for service, and oh trust me I thought of canceling Service all together – thank Source Rev. Goddess holds me accountable every month to be there, as I had already moved Service once already to attend Dzieci’s Maraton.

When you have a crush, things become unreasonable. You become super human. You go places you would never go, your wardrobe changes, you’re dressing up more, paying attention to details, plucking hairs you normally let grow wild. It’s in you, like the universe has a hyper witnessing state of existence where all eyes are on you and you must look your best.

Another thing about a crush, you normally know where they are and structure your plans around being with them. Well, being a shaman and having my psychic perceptions open amplify that ten times more. I know what the group is feeling because they’re so intimately linked. I know each time I am getting an email from them before it arrives because I can feel it being composed. Last night I semi-slept, semi tossed and turned with my stomach doing side stretches and back-flips with nervous crush energy. I’m consumed with a feeling of flying and vomiting at the same time, like being on a rollercoaster and feeling the jump in the stomach as you tip over the fulcrum of the first climb and whoosh down, screaming, arms above your head, stomach in your heart. Yeah – that whoosh-stomach-heart-screaming thing has been happening twenty to thirty times a day for a week and a half right now and quite frankly my body is exhausted from the joy ride.

I remember the Zingo Roller Coaster at Bells Amusement Park in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I was in the third grade and was cleared through height specifications to take my first run on the Zingo. I was feeling queasy towards the end of the ride after all the excitement and just as the coaster pulled in to finish the ride, the operator overshot the stopping point and took us around again. Nearing the end of the second run it happened, I turned my head sideways and vomited over the railing and probably on everyone behind me and below. Even in the third grade this moment was profound - I had waited my entire eight year old life to ride on the Zingo, and then got to go round twice!... and then puked. The agony of ecstasy.

Last night was a bit of a tipping point. I writhed in bed all night with infinite energy. My soul was dying to stay up, write, study, vision fueled by all the energy and awakenings my soul was going through and the agonizing crush energy that kept sputtering through my nervous system, but my body was helplessly beyond exhaustion from being on the Zingo for an entire week and a half going round and round. I’d lost and found myself several times in the deep Shamanic process of the past week and a half, riding off adrenaline, feeling like I would lose my lunch a few times, getting off and climbing back on. Even in the space of deep exhaustion, however, there was a childlike excitement of gratitude. Even in my body’s state of passionate exhaustion, I would rather ride the Zingo and puke than never take the ride at all.

Great paper written on Dzieci http://www.dziecitheatre.org/dzfiles/boss.pdf

Dzieci

Dzieci's Maraton

DZIECI'S MARATON

Dzieci had mixed in with my dreamtime and meditation for weeks.

The week before Maraton was the most powerful. Each night as a slept, I was greeted by a sacred coven beckoning me to play, cry, dance, sing, heal. Upon meeting Matt Mitler and the Dzieci tribe outside of their repertory performances of Makbet and Fool’s Mass my body and soul shook. I had stepped into their dream and them into mine. Matt sat with each person who came in simply being with her/him before collecting donations for the weekend. I knelt, gazed and embraced Matt and offered my donation. My body shook with a gentle tremor as I felt the largeness of the space and the intensity of the journey that was to follow.

For years I’ve been disenchanted with theatre having acted professionally. I found my experience of the world of professional theatre deeply dehumanizing. If someone tells me they’re an actor of course I’m excited for them, but there’s also a place in my soul that stings with the pain I know caused by a life devoted to the craft in a professional context.

I remember the audition that turned me, I was waiting at one cattle call for a New York audition for Lysistrata. There were 200 women there to read ~ beautiful women, resumes in hand, immaculately dressed to sell themselves. We were waiting in line like horses being inspected to be purchased, having our teeth checked, inspecting our hooves, go for a trot around the room. I remember waiting, looking up and down the hall when something shifted in me. There was nothing sacred here. My soul made a decision that day to leave theatre. I threw out my headshots and buried my resume in the deep dark files of my computer. I went on a quest to discover my own voice and what it had to say. I wrote and performed poetry, I created a One- Woman Show with the support of Carlo Altomare & Orietta Crispin at the Theatre Lab. I co-created a and traveled with a spoken word play with New Street Poets. I created performance pieces around my relationship to orgasmic energy in the elements, but there was still a piece of my soul that felt like it was missing. That I had surrendered the day I trashed my headshots.

Years later and well on my spiritual path, I met and facilitated a few healing sessions for a fellow shaman. She mentioned she had participated in Dzieci’s Para-Theatrical Workshop Maraton and that it had changed her life. I felt a deep soul resonance with this woman and took her recommendation and filed it back in my mental rolodex to pull out again when I was ready to meet them. A few years later, I received an email from Ripley Grier Studios, having rented space from them for a naked yoga class a few years back. They mentioned they were hosting Dzieci’s Makbet. The card I had filed back in my brain flipped open and I decided to go check out the ritual performance. Witnessing Dzieci’s Makbet and the ecstatic and organic and deeply ceremonialized process of the play unlocked places in me that I had been longing to find in the theatre but didn’t know how to create. Dzieci had found the sacred and were weaving it into everything they did. As an audience member, when you see their work, you are not simply a witness. You are on the journey with them, invited into the tribe and embraced as community. After this production, I signed up for their newsletter and went on their website several times just to keep up with what they were offering. When I saw their repertory production of Fool’s Mass and was greeted with an equally profound response, I signed up for Maraton.

Maraton is a 24-hour journey into the very depths of your soul. My relationship with the theatre had been very fractured and wounded. I went in with the simple intention – to heal and realign myself with my highest purpose in relationship to theatre and performance. Maraton beings at 7am on a Saturday and ends at 7am on a Sunday. During that time, you are taken through a journey, sometimes silent, mostly non-verbal, into the very depths of your being. There’s no hiding. You meet yourself including the parts you don’t want to meet over and over, again and again. The company members and participants of Maraton create a matrix of energy. Each person in the room is a piece, a wisdom holder, part of the universal constellation. Who’s in the room is meant to be in the room. There’s a piece and place for everyone. After we sign in, we are silent. In silence, the deep impulse of movement, connection and creation unfolds. The process works with perhaps a loose form and is mostly created through transmission. There may be a plan and the plan may also instantly transform. During a particularly powerful physical exercise one participant received a painful injury to his eye. The group transformed and simply was with the participant who was injured. We sang to him, held space for him. He was rocked and cradled and a deep container of intimacy and compassion were created among the other participants. We all healed in this moment. The journey for those 24 hours is pure soul transformation. I saw how many places I had hidden in myself. I felt every archetype in my system awaken including some I hated, and in those places of hate and rejection a tremendous place of love and acceptance was allowed to open. By no coincidence, Maraton took place in the Dark of the moon, a time mostly easily accessible to dance in the shadowland of the soul. I soared in my strong suits and fell flat on my face in my personal places of disempowerment and in both of these extreme spaces magic and healing unfolded within the full spectrum. Walking dazed into the rising sun the next morning, I went home and wept and laughed spontaneously for the next 24 hours when I was caught with the recollection of a gaze into someone eyes, a song of awakening, a dance through the body's very limits of exhaustion and a return into the portal we all come from and to which we all ultimately return.

Dear perspective participant - You have to be ready. You have to want this with your whole soul. You will want to quit. You will want to fall back asleep. But you will want more to awaken to the eternal magic of the universe and your highest potential that is present within this powerful matrix. You find Dzieci when you are ready to find them. May you hear the call when ‘dzieci’ is ready to awaken in you.

'Dzieci' is Polish for 'Children'

http://dziecitheatre.org/

Goldenrod - Summer's Last Sun

Green Witch's Herbal Wisdom

Goldenrod – Summer’s Last Sun

Goldenrod is the last burst of sun in the summer, as summer turns to fall and leaves fall from tress and nature begins her slow retreat inward.

Goldenrod – Botanical name Solidago – sol meaning sun - is quite appropriately named. We see her by the roadsides and often think of her as a common weed. Some who suffer from allergies mistake her as a culprit, but that’s her companion ragweed. She’s insect, not wind pollinated like ragweed who brings so much suffering to those with allergies and hayfever.

This summer I made a tincture of goldenrod’s flowering tops after listening to herbalist Rosemary Gladstar speak at the Northeastern Women’s Herbal Conference about goldenrod being a remedy for SAD (seasonal affective disorder). My original intention for the tincture was to support a friend’s daughter who was living in Scotland and was struggling with Seasonal Affective Disorder during her the long dark rainy days in Edinburgh.

Today, I decanted the tincture I had made in vodka and sat with goldenrod while she spoke to me and told me about her healing properties. The tincture came out yellow and had a sunny sweet taste to it, true to her name.

I mused back on my journey in the hills of Vermont, harvesting this beautiful yellow weed. I was lucky enough to find an entire field of nothing but goldenrod. In this field, I noticed a surprisingly large percentage of the plants had a bulbous mass in the stem where it looked like the plant had swallowed something, sort of like a snake after eating a mouse or rabbit – bulging grotesquely at the sides of what would normally be a svelt and slender body. Goldenrod, I discovered, after dissecting this bulbous mass on her stem and doing my own research, was often host to many beneficial insects including wasps that lay eggs in her stem, giving them the bulbous, goiter-like appearance. The wasps then feed on some of the more harmful insects like mites that may be a nuisance to the plant. Smart plant ;) No wonder goldenrod makes space for them!

In speaking with goldenrod this afternoon as I decanted her, she was very chatty and was thrilled she was being put to use as most people don’t know about all her powerful healing properties. Goldenrod enjoys being used as an infusion or tincture. She’s a blood cleaner and circulatory enhancer. Goldenrod infusions and tinctures support the kidneys in flushing toxins from the body and tonify and support the natural balance and function of a healthy bladder. A bit obvious, but I remember this by her yellow flowers that are the color of urine when I haven’t been drinking enough water. She balances the bladder bringing on urination if there is trouble urinating and balancing excessive urination by holding the blueprint for a healthy bladder. She can also be taken when there is an infection in the bladder or kidneys to help clear and realign our natural flow and healthy inner watery balance.

Goldenrod’s flowers make a beautiful natural dye and you can use her dried flowers and foliage in sachets in your linen closets and dresser drawers to keep clothes smelling fresh. You can also smoke her dried herb to give a deep rushing opening to the heart and lungs – think flinging open shutters on a dank dusty attic and welcoming in warmth and sun light. In her fresh state she makes a wonderful bouquet to brighten any heart and home.

UPDATE one month later....

As an herbalist there's always that incredulous part of me that asks "Does this really work? Really??" Over the holidays, like many, I sank into a depression, the long dark days, the over extended holiday schedule, the absence of daylight and the mugginess in New York without the invigorating cold behind it. Goldenrod kept calling to me form the corner of my apartment and I kept waving my hands at her and saying I didn't need her I'd get to her later. Finally after a few days of moping lethargy I finally picked her up and took a dropper full. Is this really going to work, I thought unscrewing the cap to the tincture. I put a dropper full of tincture on my tongue and swallowed and it was literally like taking a mouth full of sunshine into my body. My entire demeanor head to toe changed. I thanked Goldenrod, mostly for her patience and not telling me I told you so after she had been calling to me for two weeks.

As we come up on the holidays and darker days, call on goldenrod as an ally. She's so excited to be here with you. Can't find goldenrod in your health food store? Drop me a line - sensualshaman@gmail.com I have a few extra tinctures available for $11 each.

Green Witch Blessings!

Conversations with the Goddess

CONVERSATIONS WITH THE GODDESS

by Dorothy Atalla

I had the wonderful gift recently of reading Conversations with the Goddess by Dorothy Atalla. This beautiful book is a ray from the beacon of new light that is coming onto the planet. As the patriarchy rebalances and we move into the world and paradigm of partnership, Dorothy Atalla’s book recovers the lost voice and wisdom of the Goddess that has long been silenced on our planet. From her initiations at Petra, into opening to receive the transmission of the Goddess, Dorothy’s experience and humble teaching helps to awaken the readers journey through universal, feminine and human consciousness to reconnect us to a divine wisdom that exists in every living thing. Dorothy’s book takes the mostly forgotten wisdom of the ancients and moves it forward into our present and future of human and planetary evolution made accessible to every person who is blessed with reading this wonderful book.

Free Round Table Tele-Discussion with Dorothy Atalla -

"How Does the Divine Feminie Manifest in your Life Today?"

Guests Isis Phoenix, Michele Geyer, Suzanna McCarthy, Rev Misa Hopkins.

For a Recording of the call click on the link below

http://InstantTeleseminar.com/?eventid=21375930

For more information about Conversations with the Goddess

Click Here: http://www.conversationswiththegoddess.net/

Holy Body Worship ~ Why 'Clothing Optional'

Holy Body Worship is a clothing optional worship service led by Rev. Goddess Charmaine and Isis Phoenix each month. Having recently abbreviated our name to 'Naked Church' we are taking this time to redefine that this continues to be a 'clothing optional' event.

Holy Body Worship is an Interfaith spiritual service that celebrates the intimacy and uniqueness of the body and soul relationship through honoring and acknowledging the body as a temple and recognizing it as the vessel our soul chose for incarnation. The option of being naked or skyclad during Service is used to further the expression of reverence and celebration of our body soul relationship to Source. Our bodies are miracles, beauty, complex ecosystems, walking art - each unique, holy and a piece of God/Goddess/Source. The ‘clothing optional’ is simply that – optional. You are never required to be nude during service. It is a matter of choice and truth in the present moment based on how your body feels and wishes to express itself. In service, we view nudity as a form of transparency and intimacy. We bare our soul’s and the places that have been hiding or living inauthentically and bring ourselves back to authenticity, transparency and one-ness. If we feel guarded when we remove our clothes it’s not a form of celebration and we’ve actually moved our relationship to body/soul/source out union or one-ness and into fragmentation and inauthenticity. However, if you have felt guarded your entire life, perhaps this is the moment to experience your union and one-ness through exploring nudity, through moving through fear and embracing yourself ‘holy’ and completely in this moment. In Holy Body Worship, we choose to be nude or to celebrate with others who are nude to explore a deeper level of intimacy with our bodies, our souls, each other, the divine. To remove that which keeps us separate – and to bring us back into right relationship with body, soul, Source. Whole-y Body Worship celebrates and takes a stand for the right to choose to worship your body naked or clothed or in any state of disrobe that feels appropriate to you in the present moment and also acknowledges that that decision may change from moment to moment. We invite you to ask yourself what makes you feel powerful, holy, wild, sensual, free, and totally you and to celebrate your body soul union from that place.

Among Ducks, Geese and Crane

Among Ducks, Geese and Crane

The mallards were sleeping when I arrived armed with half a bag of wheat bread for them and an oatstraw infusion for myself to help combat the heat as temperatures rose towards the upper nineties mingling with New York City pollution creating both a sweltering and suffocating day. I squatted in a shady spot below a tree and simply watched. A green headed mallard opened one eye in my direction and floated about a foot away from me towards his mate. Four adult Canadain geese and another group of Mallards roosted on the other side of the pond about thirty feet away. The babies were missing this morning. After sitting in silence for about ten minutes, I pulled out my oatstraw infusion took a large swallow to rehydrate and then pulled out my bag of bread. A mallard twitched its tail as if suddenly sensing the food human relationship. I removed a piece and inconspicuously began to crumble it and slid it down the rocks towards the mallard couple closest to me. The male mallard stood watch as if to say ‘Honey you go first,’ while the female had her share. Seeing her eat well and recognizing there was abundance available, the male finally joined in. Two other male mallards caught on that there was a free food frenzy going down on the west bank and began paddling their way over, only to have the male of the mallard couple chase them off with some angry quacks and bill jabs into their sides. The mallard couple feasted happily for a few minutes until their ecstasy of being fed overtook them and their sounds of rapturous eating rose into cacophonous quacks alerting the other ducks and then the geese to the free buffet. After a moment two other adult Canadian geese appeared followed by four preteen grayish goslings. All the winged life made a hasty run/swim across the muddy pond in my direction. Inspired by the family unit of the geese and their quadruplets, I doted most of the bread on the young goslings and some on the parents – hey being parents is hard work – especially goose parents in Central Park in New York City. The preteens crawled up the rocks enthusiastic enough to walk on my legs and eat out of my hand and then snatch the bread all together. I laughed and snapped some candid photos of the youngster, astonished at their boldness. The parents of these young awkward preteens were fierce and did not take their parenting lightly. They wanted only the best for their children and worked very much in scarcity consciousness – ‘come too close to my children or their food and you’ll leave minus a few feathers’ sort of consciousness. Mama goose was a fierce force. During my previous visits, after I fed my feathered friends all of my offerings, mother goose would walk right up to me, hiss at me in a warning as if to say “Bring more next time and off with you now!” It was awe-inspiring to witness this power couple in the park. During some choice duck and geese feedings, if mallards swam too close to the young geese, a goose parent would chase them not just to run them off but actually to latch onto the offending mallard’s tail and pull out their hind feathers. I saw on several occasions this remarkable event where a daring mallard began taking more then his fair share of the bread and a goose parent lunged for him, it’s beak clamping onto the mallard’s tail and pulled back a full bill full of plumage. Later I would see little tufted balls of duck feathers floating away with the current and puddling up on the banks of the pond.

Today as the heat bore down, both geese and ducks were overly enthusiastic to not have to work very hard for the lunch. The sun bore down hard and I put aside the bread and leaned against the tree to sip oatsraw infusion I’d brought with me. As the ducks and geese pecked at a few crumbs left, a sudden stillness seemed to settle on the pond. A hush came over the wildlife and everything seemed to pause, a white kite cut the air and descended slowly, black pencil legs with large and delicate branch like feet unfolded effortlessly and descended on the mud patch in the middle of the pond. The white kite-like bird landed without a ripple in the water and stood perfectly still with a soft statuesque presence. The crane had arrived. Her long neck lengthened for a moment as she surveyed her surroundings and the other inhabitants of the pond. After taking in her new landscape, her neck slowly returned to a large S curve as she gently lowered her long sharp orange beak to lightly fluff her plumage. A duck gave an uncomfortable low quack and shuffled aside, as if among a peasants gathering royalty had just entered the room and made itself known. Hopeful for engagement, I tossed some of the wheat crust with a pitchers throw towards the crane who was standing in the very middle of the pond on a mud bank. The crust landed a few feet away. The crane stood statuesque with a sense of regalness permeating her being. Deigning not to even flick her head in the arching movement of the crust nor where it landed, a few low squatting ducks waddled over to take up the scraps. I tried again and the crane merely turned its head as if to magnify the beauty of its profile and to let me know that something so beautiful would never stoop for mere crumbs. She was majestic. Passerbys stopped in their tracks to pause at her beauty. Slowly, the impulse for movement rippling down her neck and spine and finally towards her feet, she began to stride across the mud island picking up her branch like feet and placing them down with such lightness that the water beneath them showed not a ripple. The hierarchy was clear. Ducks, Geese, … Crane. I watcher her coronation walk until she disappeared through the tunnel of a stone bridge, off to impress the other wild-life and urban life near-by. After a few breathless moments where time and my body simply stood still from witnessing such beauty, I came back to a baby goose nibbling on my sandal. I snapped back, laughed and gave the ganders the rest of my offerings and stood to brush myself off.

Witnessing the inner intelligence and workings in nature brought a silent wisdom into my body. The chivalry of a mallard fending for it’s mate, the geese raising their family with ferociously aggressive survival instincts, and the crane, a glimpse of wildlife royalty. A deep satisfying quiet settled over my being understanding in this moment that at times I was all of these birds in all of these relationships, a chivalrous partner, a ferocious and protective mother, a Queen. Deep and present I gather my belongings and left the park, a little more wise and a tad more integrated than when I entered it.

Shepherd's Purse

Yesterday, New York yoga teacher and doula Lisa Kazmer and I met in Central Park on a mission - to harvest and make our own medicine. After beginning my studies at the Wise Woman Center, I am becoming increasingly aware of everyday healing herbs and foods that are in my home environment right here in New York City. I operated for years under the assumption that I I had to leave New York City to exist closer and more authentically with nature, but more and more I find that I have quite astonishingly overlooked what exists right in front of me surrounded by this city of stone. How appropriate that the herb we are harvesting just happens to grow in sidewalk cracks and in rocky terrain as if shouting -"Hey, look at me, I'm like you - an urban survivor and thriver!" As I took my oatmeal in Central park yesterday morning, there Shepherd's Purse was peeking up through large rocks and as I walked through the meadows she popped her head up in clusters and at various moments her white flowering tops and heart shaped seed pouches standing tall and proud on their slender stems.

I called Lisa, who is co-creator of our earlier herbal product for women's reproductive health 'yoni steams' with me and told her to meet me in the park that afternoon as we were on a mission. I gathered all the info I could on Shepard's Purse, printed it off and took two canvas bags, two harvesting scissors and a snack for us. We meet at 59th and 6th Ave in front of the horse carriages with the grassy musky manure aroma of NY carriages greeting us as we entered the park. We walked to the gazebo and sat on the rocks and read aloud to each other the printed information I had gathered on Shepherd's Purse. One piece off the internet had a photo of Shepherd's purse. I asked Lisa based on the photo to find the plant. She pointed to a few similar looking things from the photo. This was actually a trick exercise. The photo was actually wrong - meaning 1. you can't trust everything on the internet and 2. sight is on of the worst ways to identify herbs and leads to often harvesting the wrong and potentially plant. We then moved to the correct variation of Shepherd's Purse, greeted her and talked about sustainable harvesting, asking the plants permission and only taking what we need. Shepherd's purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris - Brassicaceae family) is an anti-hemorrhaging herb that regulates blood flow in the body. About to be on the heaviest day of my moon flow, it was an appropriate time to harvest ;) Shepherd's Purse stops excessive bleeding in the body by constricting the blood vessels with its atstringent quality. It's a wonderful herb to lighten excessively heavy menstrual flows and post-partum hemorrhaging as well as bleeding from all parts of the body including stomach, lungs, uterus and kidneys. Shepherd's purse has also been taken internally to treat cases of blood in urine and bleeding ulcers. Shepherd's purse was most likely brought over from Europe as it's actually not indigenous to our continent. It is an herb that was used during the Great War when amputations took place right on the battlefield and they needed to stop a new amputee form bleeding out.

Lisa and I harvested Shepherd's Purse from three different places in the park only taking what we need. Shepherd's purse is obviously not an herb we will take regularly and would only be used under very specific conditions. The jar we made into a tincture will last us the rest of our lives. Lisa commented to me after our harvesting trip she felt incredibly grounded. That is the power of The Mother - sharing with us indefinitely her energy and wisdom and deep powerful presence. As we deepen opening to Her knowing we are able to share with others her power. Urban medicine making is teaching me patience.

In New York one thing is for sure - we want everything right away - our food, our entertainment, our business. Herbal medicine takes time. Shepherd's Purse will steep in Vodka for 6 weeks before she is ready to be medicine. While six weeks doesn't seem long for a life-time worth of medicine, in our electronic tweet-ing, facebook-ing world - it's an eternity which is why alopathic medicine was birthed in the west. Natural healing took too long. But even in New York there are times where a deep penetrating sense of grounding can take us over and pull us into The Mother's embrace. Thank you Pacha Mama for your gifts, your healing, your wisdom." Lisa shared this Paulo Coehlo quote with me yesterday and it feels good to share it with you here - "God placed 'Her' pharmacy in the woods and fields so that everyone could enjoy good health."

Please stay tuned as we continue to grow our Urban Herbals Business.

Nude New York Interview with WFUV's Cityscape

I had a great time doing this interview with George Bodarky on what has inspired my own naked yoga practice and the naked yoga movement in New York City.

You can download or listen to a free podcast of our interview below :)

http://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/wfuvs-cityscape/id168241302

Enjoy!

Traumatized Wings

After teaching a beautiful yoga session this winter, my student inquired about the rather large collection of feathers I kept on my altar that ranged from peacock to hawk to seagull. Each feather had been gifted to me or found while in nature and over the years had become integrated into my Shamanic healing ceremonies. He asked quietly how I would feel about receiving some more. Knowing my yoga student was also a hunter, I questioned where and how he would get them and what would be come of the bird whose feathers would end up on my altar? He said warmly he ate everything he hunted and that the birds’ life would not be for sport. Satisfied, I accepted, feeling the circle of life move through the room and right relationship resonate throughout our conversation. I would be grateful to give the feathers and wings of these birds another life beyond their own.

A few weeks later my yoga student brought a large bag of newspaper wrapped wings to me. Giddy and excited to experience the power of a new healing tool, I rummaged through the bag and pulled out the first newspaper wrapped bundle. Much to my surprise, upon opening the bundle with joyful eagerness, I closed it just as quickly with wide-eyed horror. The energy emanating from the wings was so intense I had to look away directly after opening it because they nothing short of knocked my energetic socks off. I was almost blinded by the power of what I was holding. It became too much for my nervous system to process and after the first look I put the wrapped wings up in the top of my closet promising myself I would set aside special time later to properly attend to them.

Weeks passed. Each time I got dressed the bag holding the wings loomed over me. I had asked for this and now that I had them I wasn’t sure what to do with them. Finally, on a cold Saturday ready to finally move into spring-cleaning and avoid this ridiculous energetic procrastination, I took them down and set them on my bed. I opened the first wrapped newspaper bundle that held partridge wings. There was a loud moan and flapping that swept over my heart. I realized that the bird’s spirit had not fully left the wing. When its life was taken, the quickness of its death confused the bird’s spirit and had somehow become trapped in the wing. What I had experienced before when I looked at the wings briefly a few weeks ago was a bird’s soul in severe distress. The bird that had become food had not transitioned back to source. Instead a piece of its soul had become trapped in the part of its body it uses for escape. I energetically merged with the wing and let if move through and out of me until the flapping moan subsided and there was simply peace and presence left. I realized that trauma had actually locked the bird into its wing making it unable to move forward fully into its next life.

All afternoon, I sat with this experience and pondered the bird’s wing as a metaphor for our own lives. Places where as humans we have become stuck, traumatized and are holding incompletion in any area of our life is a place where our wings have become detached and our soul’s evolution has stopped. Any place where we have experienced loss of power, rejection of another or ourselves or compartmentalization is a place where we have become stuck and our soul has stopped its process of growth.

Much like the experience with the wings, I invite you to explore areas of your life where loss of power, resentment, grudges and incompletion is present for you and to visit that experience fully. What do you need to complete? What would support you fully in moving forward? What opportunities of forgiveness would support you in opening your wings to their fullest extent? How can your wings grow and stretch even further across the planet and support our communities and our world to its return to balance and right relationship?

Teachings come every day in new ways. Thank you to my yoga student who brought me the wings that helped open my eyes and my wings to new horizons.

Much Love!

Isis Phoenix

Yoni Steams

Yoni Steam Ritual

Yoni is a traditional Sanskrit term for a woman's vulva. The term itself acknowledges and honors that yonis were a symbol of the Great Goddess and that in their presence rests the force of Shakti, the pure essence of the divine feminine. Yoni Steams are an ancient wise woman traditional treatment using a unique blend of organic and consciously harvested herbs that are steeped in hot water creating an herbal infusion. After brewing, the steaming herbs are transferred to a bowl and placed in a toilet where the woman receiving the steam sits as the medicinal herb steam rises and opens and lubricates the yoni. The herb steam has gentle healing, cleansing and stimulating properties supporting a healthy pelvic floor and reproductive system. The steam increases blood flow to the yoni and helps discharge clots and energy blocks by relaxing the muscular and deep tissue layers of the pelvis and naturally balancing yeast and bacteria. Yoni steams help lubricate the pelvic floor and encourage a natural healthy wetness that cleans, clears and rebalances.

The Ritual ~ Add half the jar of your yoni steam herbs to the muslin bag that was wrapped around the jar. Place the bag in a pot of water that has cooled just below boiling. Steep the herbs in the muslin bag for 15 minutes, covered, on the lowest flame setting. Pour the herb infusion that has been created into a large bowl that can rest in the toilet. Test the steam for heat sensitivity before sitting directly on the toilet. Disrobe from the waist down and drape your lower body with a large towel or blanket to keep in the steam and your body warm. Steam for 15-20 minutes. The sensation should feel pleasant, opening and relaxing as the pelvic floor is nourished by the healing steam bath. After the steam cools, as an additional part of the ritual, you are welcome to pour the herb infusion in a warm bath and bathe to continue nourishing the body or add hot water to the bowl of herbs and steam longer. Be sure to keep the body warm afterwards and allow time for quiet meditative reflection or rest. Give used herbs back to the earth in your compost, garden, or any green patch that calls to you.

Benefits, side effects and Contraindications

A Yoni Steam treatment serves as an internal cleansing of the uterus assisting in the release of incompletely flushed debris and fluids. It introduces warmth and softens and nourishes internal membranes. Yoni steams are ideal if you have endometriosis, dark blood at beginning or end of the menstrual cycle, ovarian cysts, irregular periods, painful periods, uterine fibroids, prolapsed uterus, pelvic trauma, vaginal dryness or decreased libido.

It is not advised to steam during your menstrual flow, if you are pregnant, have a uterine infection, vaginal sores or blisters.

Yoni Steams are lovingly crafted by hand for you J

Floracopeia Essential Oils - The People's Medicine

This is a very generous offering from David Crow - Founder of Floracopeia Essential Oils. Their oils are a huge cornerstone in the healing I've done in my own life and the healing work that I offer clients. Herbal medicine is "the people's medicine" - natural plant based medicine from the Earth as we return to her and align ourselves with her medicine. Enjoy :)

Free Audio Download: Dharma of Essential Oils and The Flowering of Spiritual Culture

Reclaiming Natural Ecstasy

Dear Ones,

I am just back from a glorious week in the green mountains of Vermont celebrating a late Lughnasadh - the ancient first harvest festival with the Celtic Witch Priestess who initiated me onto my path and her new apprentice who is already in the throws of this life changing ancient transformative magic that is permeating the season. Vermont continues to be a place that inspires magic, transformation and access to open portals of wisdom from the proximity of the land and the way the community must live in relationship to it. I spent my days stacking fire wood, hanging a bat house, perusing the local markets and fairs and cooking good wholesome food all the while reminded of the depth and magic of simple Earth-based living and the beauty of human existence when it falls into right relationship with the planet. My body aches this morning from the hard manual labor of the past week and I smile with a deep pleasure at the sensual wholeness of the return to the land. A conversation that spun out of this time was the "turn on" of human existence when we reach this integrated relationship. When we are simple doing what we are here to do and living the way we are here to live. My dear friend the Celtic Witch Priestess spoke of her new apprentice's new amazement at her own limitless and expanded sexual energy and how it now colored every part of her life. I laughed, remembering my own initiations unfolding to the natural state of being sexually functional, always turned on - reclaiming the ancient brain and animal body of our existence and plugging into the Earth's perpetual state of orgasm - how truly exuberant existence becomes.

A meditation - When in your life do you experienced true wholeness and interconnectedness? Where is desire and passion currently running through your life? Are you following it freely or resisting it? What would shift in your life if you consciously plugged into this energy all the time?

In Natural Ecstasy,
ISIS

Gender Imbalance In Balance

The gender paradigm can often rouse passionate responses and heated dialogues from almost anyone who has actively explored masculine and feminine roles in our society. Today, on Mother’s Day, I pause to look back at the presence of the feminine in my life and reflect on how grateful I am to be such a privileged woman in the west who has had a myriad of powerful female teachers, mentors and leaders who have influenced my own spiritual maturity as a woman.

In the arch of my spiritual journey, the roles of masculine and feminine energy have influenced the core of my spiritual evolution because they exist at the very heart of our culture and the heart of our evolution as a species.

I’ve had my fare share of heady and aggressive conversations about the feminist movement, the monotheistic male center of patriarchal religion, the concept of Goddess and the place of the uprising divine feminine. As a fierce representation of the uprising feminine, I fought hard in my college years to let the voice of the feminine be heard and to quench my own insatiable thirst for mainstream information in reference to the sacred feminine and presence of Goddess Worship in the barren lands of Midwest America. My formal teachings of the Divine Feminine came behind closed doors and under a covenant of secrecy from the town witch, and while what she was teaching me may have cast me as a heretic in the Bible belt, today, it rolls off my tongue and passes through conversations between my friends, clients and community as quickly and easily as someone might discuss the weather.

In my flag-waving feminist days, however, I declared myself a female refugee of the patriarchy and quite often entered into relationship with men where I both dominated and resented their position as man and masculinized my position as woman in an effort to climb out of the years of patriarchal oppression and absence of choice. I martyred myself and my poor unsuspecting boyfriends at the time who fell helplessly in love with a women claiming her Goddesshood and owning her wrath of centuries of oppression and abuse. The early uprising feminist spiritual movement was laced with Martyrdom and rightly so after centuries of silence and oppression. In my individual uprising of ushering in the proclamation of the Goddess, I worked directly in the wound of the feminine, answering calls at Domestic Violence Intervention Services trying to put myself in a path of creating change and healing the world. I directed the Vagina Monologues, raised money to stop violence against women, took back the night. I became self-identified with what David Deida refers to as ‘Stage Two Feminine’ where the feminine embodies her inner warrior and challenges the masculine to meet her on that plane of existence. She has become empowered, liberated and demands equality and at times superiority on every level. She works under the solar influence of the masculine, not resting or nesting or nurturing but constantly creating, fighting the activist’s fight and coping with adrenal burnout from over-embodying dominant solar energy.

Today the split is mending and we are moving into an age of partnership, a time where the energies of God/Goddess are uniting within us and outside of us. The third stage of the feminine is the stage of partnership, a stage of inner God/Goddess Harmony, within and without. It is also a stage where we consciously embrace and celebrate our born gender identity knowing we can shift among all stages interchangeably. The feminine, becomes all aspects of the feminine AND masculine but rests in the love and balance of wholeness of her feminine body and archetype by choice of nature’s script and soul purpose. The masculine rests fully in his role as male after actively embracing his feminine and moving through his stages of masculine maturity and evolution.

The masculine/feminine relationship thrives from the inside returning to the oneness and balance it evolved out of from Source – God/Goddess consciousness. Many of us New Agers who have ridden out our own liberation from gender roles bemoan gender identification and the masculine feminine gender paradigm citing ‘people are people,’ but to know each energy separately is to know it as part of the whole as well. Just as on a Shamanic level the elements make up our world – Earth, Wind, Water, Fire, Ether, so do the masculine and feminine dance make up our universe and these very primary energies are at the core foundation of our creative archetypes. To disassociate from them, we must know them fully balanced both within and without and also be able to re-release them back to the cosmic void which often results in returning to them, acknowledging them, playing in these roles and stages of the masculine and feminine interchangeably and consciously and then releasing them to that cosmic source void of the universe once again.

Today, on mother’s day, I pause to look back at the presence of the feminine in my life. I look at the promises I made to myself in the arch of my feminine journey as woman. Promises about never getting married or having children and today I find myself on my way to marriage and for the first time in my life, hearing the future whispers of family life within me, which had always been previously met with silence or wounded protests. Today I find myself celebrating my role as woman, as matriarch, standing next to a partner who embodies all aspects of the divine masculine and acknowledges his feminine core. Today I stand and acknowledge the ushering in the age of partnership and holding a vibration of wholeness as we move towards healing ourselves, healing our partners, healing our planet.