It was an odd day yesterday. As I shared with my intimate circle of women, there was a restless energy creeping up all around me, actually from inside. My resident ‘screaming woman’ began to make her presence known, signaling something was for sure out of balance from the depths of my being.
My dear, beloved soul friend Joss suggested a bit of music and a practice of moving my body–DANCE. The resistance was immediate, my inner Wild Woman beckoned me, but that old familiar quicksand holding me in place. I’m blessed to have had a beautiful space in which to voice all that I was feeling, to process it, to allow it and to move through it. She had her way with me, this Wild Woman Divine Feminine, and together we lit candles and prepared to dance.
This type of being with myself hasn’t been part of my life in quite this way, so as you might imagine, felt a bit uncomfortable in places. The music, my mind began to focus on finding the right music. Something sensual that inspired a release and letting go, that allowed my body to take over and my thinking self to sink into the background. Ray Lamontagne–my sister loves his style, ‘soulful’ she calls it–ok for a moment, but no, the energy just wasn’t moving, my thoughts remained at the forefront. I tried several other options that seemed as though they should have done the ‘trick’–whirling dervish music, my favorite Jimmy Buffet and a couple other styles. Nothing. Frustration began to set in, and of course that intellect was pleased with the outcome. ‘Told you so.’
Pausing, I stopped to check in with what I’ve always loved. What used to inspire me to get up and move? What were the songs I would love to sing out loud and just had to feel the rhythm of their energy? Madonna. Always a love of mine. It seemed silly, but ok, I gave it a try. The Madonnna-ish radio station on my tablet began with a Gloria Estafan song and my body knew just what to do. She moved in ways I didn’t expect–not a sultry, sensual unleashing, but a Wild Woman-feel-every-beat-and-just-let-go response. I was quite taken aback and just let myself go with it, tensions melting away.
The AHA! moment that came was this: it wasn’t about allowing my body–giving her permission–to be sexy. It was about dissolving restrictions to just simply moving to the rhythm because of her fear she might be perceived as ‘too sexy,’ too much of all those ugly words we’ve heard said about a beautiful, alluring woman. It wasn’t about whether I was that or not, but about transcending those old patterns and just FEELING into it. It was quite welcomed to just move, to just be, to allow and to not have a care of how it looked or might be perceived.
For too long we’ve held these fears tight to our heartspace, suffocating our spirits, clogging up the intuitive channels of our body’s language and wisdom. It was such a beautiful experience, very different from what I would have ‘written’ for myself. Some of my learned yoga poses (there is much to this occurring, too much to share here) even came into play and felt magnificently empowering in every cell.
This is the spirit, the energy, the call of the Wild Woman. To be and honor who we are. We’ve restricted ourselves and then written a story about who we are that we can’t possibly live up to, mostly because it’s not our authentic truth. My commitment to 2014 is to release the untruths about myself–from within–and to integrate the authentic pieces of who I am even more.
I’d love to hear your Wild Woman stories – whether you are male or female, because this goes beyond gender specifications. Whether from your own experience or something you’ve witnessed. And I’d love for you to consider how you might honor the Wild Spirit you carry within the entirety of your being. She presents differently on each one of us, and yet at the core, She is the very same Presence we are each tuning in to.
I’m reminded of my own commitment to Dance Out of Control….
she sang. she took.
she dissented. she enlivened.
she saw. she grew. she sweated.
she learned. she laughed.
she shed her skin.
she bled on the pages of her days,
she walked through walls,
she lived with intention.”
― Mary Anne Radmacher