Untrampling Our Masculine

His heart is tender and filled with uncertainty. Have I hurt her? Is she angry with me? Can she love me for who I am?

I can feel the gentle tears his heart cries in the darkness, in moments of time and space when strength and protection has worn itself out and he is vulnerably exposed. I hear his need to be loved, held, cherished. In the core of his being there is a space incomplete without her presence, her love, caress.

He longs to feel her radiance shine over him, warming from the inside out. Too many times being himself has caused a separation, leaving aching emptiness in her absence.

I can see, hear, feel this heart of our masculine. Ravaged by the demands of his women – mothers, grandmothers, wives, lovers – falling short of her expectations that he always be strong, and ‘right’ in the way she desires. He’s left with a constant sense of inability to meet her demands.

The feminine has risen. She is alive and beating with the Goddess Life Force. On her way up, the heart of our masculine has been invisibly trampled upon, quieted. His hunger, his ferocity placed in a box so as to keep women ‘safe.’

And yes…she has been harmed by him over lifetimes. In no way is this dialogue meant to deny what the feminine has endured. We’ve been looking at it, rebelling against it, speaking our truth for decades. Our voice is strong. Our cries have been heard and responded to. And now…

Her charge is to love, honor, receive her masculine.

He needs room to rise again, in all his glory, power, strength – with his tenderness intact. I feel the masculine heart as such sweetness, such deep desire to love and please his Goddess. Her deepest pleasure becomes his greatest joy. His capacity to love, hold, care for her is boundless.

Lovers ~ Anne  D Mejaki
Lovers ~ Anne D Mejaki

The wound is not merely of the masculine upon the feminine. The feminine has bruised and punished and whipped her masculine into a shell of himself. His heart can no longer bear her raging fire. He buries his pain, cracks deep inside his chest – tucked safely away from her reach, from her view even. She feels only his resentment, indifference. The heartache is far from visible and nearly imperceptible.

In our need to balance, the masculine purity has been set aside. Protected, hidden away safely so as not to reap her wrath.

He needs her love. He needs her acceptance, her willingness to see beyond tired misconceptions of what it is to be an awakened man – IN HIS POWER.

In my connections with women, there is a predominant truth: we LOVE the masculine Force. We want him to bring his fire to our bed, his strength and comfort to our tears, his ferocity to match our own. And we thrive on the kiss, the touch – his full penetration of our body, heart, soul.

What I’m feeling is a present need to embrace our men as they are. Draw them close, give the anger and distance room to breathe, for beneath it lies an expansive heart with the desire to simply love and be held in love. Allow time and space to unravel the hurt between our two – masculine and feminine – without pointing fingers, seeking justice, making ‘wrong.’

Come together in sacred space. Open your heart, hold love as you share your deepest fears, most vulnerable hurts and tender, precious truths. Allow there to not be words, answers, resolve. Let Love both dissolve and become the language. Be so intimately present with one another. Feel your hearts rise together. Give room for our history of hurting one another to melt in the heat of holding Love’s intensity.

This is the call of the feminine – my feminine. I have witnessed myself in this time and space – seeing how I disarm the masculine in ways that hurt – often unknowingly. At times I hold him accountable for hurts that are mine, for being the Presence that he is. I’ve asked him to take ownership of my heartache, my joy, my ultimate happiness. It’s not his job. And yet, I find when I give him room to feel his own pure heart, he can so easily hold space for mine.

These energies dance between the dynamic of male/female, but the power we hold centered here is within the relationship of Sacred Feminine and Divine Masculine. The present reality is we are healing together. Our expansion is intermingled. Walking this human life, we are designed to need one another, to love deeply, to feel fully. Our work is to open, to soften, to let the wounds be seen, held, loved – transmuted – in the glowing light of day. One of our greatest powers is making love to change the world. Loving each other with sacred tenderness is our way through.

Burning in Holy Fires

I’m engaged in an intense love affair – the kind of connection that wakes up my Everything. Her name…

Is KALI.

And She is a Fierce Lover. Her way is to hold steady, staying the course with continual arousal of my most intimately protected cracks and curves.

I’ve known of her for some time. A few months ago we found ourselves together under not-so-pleasant circumstances. I was certain she’s not my type – the OPPOSITE of my type in fact. The repulsion in myself was beyond a simple ‘no thank you.’ (Add a string of expletives spat in disgust of her ways.)

Kali was NOT for me.

Until…she was. I’ve found her to be incredibly attentive. She appears at the most unexpected times, stirring my emotions into a fiery whirlwind. The depth of her entry into my being has been mingled with fires igniting in my belly without warning. Burning consummation.

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Our affair began when a beloved woman shared with me a more intimate perspective on Kali’s appetite for drinking blood – the blood of her kills. This very practice absolutely nauseated me when I first learned of it. Kali and I would NEVER be lovers.

So I thought…

I had always believed her to be a violent, raging, furious Goddess exacting her revenge. What I learned that day settled into the recesses of my being, those very dark crevices where the light is challenged to come through. Ever.

Kali drinks the blood because she knows her own power. The blood being spilled in her rage against ‘evil’ would simply regenerate upon touching the ground. Rather than cultivate more destruction, Kali drank the blood…

Because She has the power to transmute it into holy healing and love.

This…is the seed she has planted in my body over and over again…

REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE.

We burned together this last weekend. As women across the globe made their hearts, voices, presence known by marching – Kali and I were on fire, marching in my own body. What showed up as searing pain and fury became transmuted into Power, Remembrance, Honoring.

She held me close with tender kisses and the sweetest caress as I reached into the shadowy, dank corners of my body and consciousness to call back my spirit, my Ancient Feminine Power.

We made fiery, intense love over and over until my raw edges began to soften. As I writhed between pain and ecstasy, She held me close, whispering remembrance and holy, hot love into my being.

I love her madly. I bow to Kali’s love for me, her breath in my body, her tongue on my flesh. She has consistently shown up and loved me with penetrating passion and holiness, burning off my excess, purifying from the inside out.

We drank the blood together, pulsing as One being in holy motion. We called up our deepest power and transmuted – burning off the lies and antiquated programming that was never really ours to begin with. We sank with holy ecstasy into the afterglow, letting it consume us fully from this new space of being.

I love her. And I’m deeply grateful to her relentless pursuit of my sacred heart. Kali. My new Love.

Becoming Love’s Void

She ebbs and flows ~ deeply, gently, fluently in and out of our heartspace. Her presence draws us further still into the blackened and intense depths of what it is to love, to be loved, to become her very essence. We are meant to give ourselves completely to her, and yet every barrier we have constructed through time and space gives us pause.

Love is a word too easily used in our language. We forget, sometimes, to feel her stirring us into remembering, into becoming spread wide open to receive her, penetrated to the core by her unraveling essence. But when we do, in those glimpses of time where She is ruler of all we think and feel and speak, in the moments we find ourselves lost to the impulses we can no longer hold back – in those beautiful, ecstatic, glorious moments we find ourselves catapulted into another reality, a very different way of being.

It seems all too often the human response is to pull back. Certainly because beneath our layers there breathes a programmed fear of Love’s pure and potent Life Force. Also, I believe, because we fear the void of her absence. In her continual ebb and flow there are spaces in which we feel she has left us–naked, alone, bewildered at the chasm she leaves in her wake. We sink into a state of wondering how we could have soared so high only to seemingly fall so quickly and with such great force.

Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it. ~ Rumi 

love

What we are still remembering is She is not only the burning, stirring, blissful state of passion and expression. Love remains present in the void. In fact – She IS the void. She pulls us close as we enter into that seeming state of emptiness, of lack, of loneliness that leaves us longing for her return yet again. She is there, ever so gently rocking us, caressing and kissing our most tender places and remembering us into opening to her once again.

What is true, my friends, is Love is the very power of unbecoming. She breaks us wide open, pouring the dripping honey of her warmth into every barren crack and dry crevice. And even in the quiet, the stillness and illusory absence of her – she is there, stroking, breathing, loving us into yielding to her embrace.

So many of us have this rhythmic relationship with Love, unaware still of just how present and masterful she truly is. We’re unaccustomed to her subtle tones, the ones that beckon us to come into her, to surrender fully to her, even in those places we keep most protected for fear they become broken open and bleeding yet again.

Become her void. In the space where there is the sensation of love’s absence, call to her, giving all you are, all you have to the offering of your shared intercourse. She waits for you too, longing to feel you, to be given all the room she needs to inhabit your heart and movement in total. This is her deepest desire – to become one with you, to sensually move together through each ebb and flow. Let her come and devour you, satiating her hunger and yours in whatever way she will.

A Religion of Her Own

It might be easy to say
I came to this place
In search of my self,
Only – that couldn’t be true.

I know who I am, this woman in me.
We are an infinitely intimate love affair.

The truth would be
I came here to feel
With intensity
The flames of her holy burning fire.

I came to this place to claim for my self
And on behalf of others,
Yet another gathering up of her pieces.

Smattered like crumbs from there to here;
A guide through the senses
To her inner castle of sweetness.

I met her there:
The radiance within my self.

Together we danced
On a warm spring breeze,
Playing hide and seek
In the mighty grove of pines.

Hand and hand we walked naked as One,
Through the glistening kiss of golden sun rays.

Sun Kissed

Calling grace and tenderness
As midwives to serve
In the holy unveiling of my deepest love.

My Divine Beloved
Is for me Everywhere.

In my words
And the rain
Through my food
And the arts,
You entered my body.

My Sacred Heart
Splayed apart,
Pierced by the holy sword
Of your fierce love.

I came here for this,
To meet you
And feel you.

Making love together
As the bird and tree,
As both sun and moon,
Asleep
And awake.

I came here for you
To whisper the song
Of re-member-ance
Into my being.

Drawing me in more deeply
To you
And to me.
Each of us – my Beloved.

 

My Body is a Prayer

My body is a prayer
Uttered, whispered
In deep moans of pleasure
With sighs of ecstasy

She is Holiest of Holies
Sacred temple space
Innermost chalice
Bearing crimson wine

My body is a prayer
Heart beating
In rhythm to All That Is
Pulse ripened
In her own unbecoming

Promised in the kiss of her lips
Cradled in the arms of her embrace
Nestled in the crevice of her legs
Infused in the ambrosia of her nectar

Voice of the Divine
Goddess in the flesh
Aphrodite glistening
Through lush feminine folds

My body is a prayer
Ever present lovemaking
To all breath of Life
Broken open, fully bared
By thrusts of holy Love

body prayer silverwitch

With equal measure
She inhales
And exhales
Beauty of her Presence

My body is a prayer
Consumed in continual reverence
Caressed by the taste of Eros
Penetrated fully
By the heated flow of Grace

My body is a prayer
Offering herself
Again and again
To her Beloved

 

 

Captivating Beauty

It seems for women especially the mere mention of ‘beauty’ carries so many triggers. We move through times of believing it doesn’t or shouldn’t matter at all. In other moments it feels to be what matters the most. Upon seeing our reflection in the mirror we sometimes believe the physical beauty of ourselves is the total sum of our value. And there are occasions when we catch a glimpse of our reflection and sink deep into the essence of our true beauty, understanding and seeing at once how it glimmers through our skin to reveal the most intimate and sacred parts of who we are.

‘Beauty’ and the desire for it, the nurturing of it has for many women become a dirty word. I wonder how this relates for our male counterparts? How does beauty compute in the interior of the man’s sensual nature?

I myself shunned my own physical beauty in its entirety for several years. There were very real and painful life circumstances that led me to such total feminine abandonment of myself, and yet I believed it to be the most kind thing I could do. Interestingly, even as I share this conversation with you now I can hear some of the old rumblings that lead women to feeling guilt and shame over the ways we love and adorn ourselves.

Beauty quote

There’s a natural desire to feel our full feminine sensuality. We do so through the feel of the clothes we choose to place against our skin. Through the fragrances we allow to seep into and through our pores. We each carry our own natural, very sweet scent for those who are close enough to breathe us in deeply. Our hair is for many of us an expression and carrier of our soul’s magic. The colors and styles we wear serve as indicators of our inner truth, our present mood and as a statement of how we engage this world.

With all the rage against the very overstated beauty industry, we have perhaps forgotten the nuance of what our true beauty is. It’s not merely on the inside as so many would have us to believe. When we pause and truly take in the essence of a woman, allowing that in fact her appearance–the ways in which she presents and holds herself–is an exterior, visual statement of her inner essence, we gain a pure sense of her true beauty. For beauty flows through her pores, spilling over into the outer layer of her human body. Beauty, dear loves, is not merely ‘spiritual,’ but very, very physical as well.

It’s in our natural programming to become drawn to beauty in all her forms. Yes, we each have our own unique taste and desire when it comes to our attractions, but it remains true we all carry and respond to the allure of beauty herself.

It took a few years for me to feel her nudging once again, to welcome beauty into my life beyond the esoteric and yes, very ‘safe’ manifestation of her presence. The more I saw and felt my true self, the more I remembered who I am and invited the sensation of all the beauty that is me. We do great harm to our being when we lock beauty into one way of walking in this world. It would do us well to become unraveled in her presence, to expand and petition Beauty herself to penetrate our senses, announcing her arrival and desire to be seen, felt and heard on every level of all we are. I sense she has much to arouse in us yet.

 

And Then He Kissed Me

It’s our usual morning routine before my love leaves for work – a kiss, sometimes accompanied by embrace. Usual. Normal. Routine.

Today it felt different. As my husband leaned in to kiss me, I felt him. I felt in that one short moment an overwhelming wave of all the love we share and are together, I felt my heart melt with the touch of his lips, I felt all the adoration he has for me–for us. The kiss was ‘small,’ short–the impact was deep, tunneling its way into the crevices of my being that most needed to feel such tenderness. Instantly tears filled my eyes without warning.

Much of 2015 has been this way for me–routine moments resulting in an eruption of my heart. Sometimes it comes as heartache, others as beauty and immense appreciation of what is real and true in my world. At times, it feels unnerving; the mind wanting to define it all, perhaps as depressed or disconnected. It’s how we’ve come to ‘diagnose’ and subsequently do our best to ‘fix’ what’s ‘wrong’ with us–simply because we feel too deeply.

kiss umbrellaEmotions are highly intimate and possess the power of Sacred Feminine wisdom. Have we forgotten this truth? Our ability to feel so profoundly serves as a gateway to expansion of the heart, awareness of beauty, inspiration for our creativity, honoring of ourselves, opening to more love. As I sat with myself following the kiss of my husband this morning, I felt an enormous surge of love welling up inside me. It reached to my toes, fingertips and deep inside my body with a tingling, soothing, calming, tender sensation. I felt the years and perhaps lifetimes of our love, through all its ups and downs, infused into our kiss, the meeting of our lips together. And the love I feel for him became even more immense.

It’s not easy to feel continually vulnerable, to weep with the simplicity of a morning kiss or a heartfelt text from a friend you have loved intimately. Our natural response is to resist it, talk ourselves out of it. The magic happens when we become the vulnerability, giving ourselves to it completely, trusting on some cosmic level in its companioned presence. This has been my practice of late; quietly, gently allowing myself to be drawn into the beauty and sometimes the sadness of my emotions.

It’s a challenge at times, my friends, I can tell you that. So many barriers we have against it–even something as simple as wearing contacts. Because contacts are ruined if you cry in them. So rather than ruining them, repeatedly putting in a new pair, costing extra dollars–just don’t cry too much, unless you’re prepared. How does one ‘prepare’ to feel deeply, to surrender into the love swelling in your tear ducts and spilling over your cheekbones? We can’t possibly. I can’t.

So I’m feeling. Fully. Deeply. And with that allowance comes not only the beautiful, uplifting, warm and comfortable moments, but the unseen and unknown heartaches held within too. The truth is, it’s all beautiful. We’re just unaccustomed to feeling and honoring it as so. Heartache, at its core, IS love. Our heartache arises out of our love for something or someone. There is a continual movement and ebb/flow to our lives as highly emotional human beings. The emotions are a vital part of our soul’s evolution. So feel. Feel the depth of love that you are, that you need, that you give into this world and that our world needs desperately for you to be. Cry and weep your way through all that comes to and through you, trusting and knowing all the while you are the very embodiment of pure, pulsating and heart breaking love, understanding that you are being drawn in by a very holy and sacred kiss. xx