I believe that women have a subconscious connection to the persecution of all women by the patriarchy and that it manifests itself within us with the presence of rage. Sacred rage. Rage that we cannot account for other than to blame our hormones and curse out our periods, our PMT, our most beautiful cycles, because the rage is uncomfortable and it has wisdom within in that sometimes we aren’t ready to hear, it has truth in it that we sometimes aren’t ready to witness, and it has expression in it that we are unaware of, or unable to communicate. It holds the anger and the grief of every woman persecuted, every woman oppressed, every woman made quiet, made small, made less than. It is ancestral, it runs deep. It is a divine manifestation of the Goddess within us that was once known to the world and is now barely acknowledged to have ever existed. Deep within the layers of this rage, underneath it all, buried by it, is the truth of our inner Goddess and the truth of our sublime connection to the divine, our inner knowing, our intuition, our magick. Women are the portal to life; we are sacred life givers and chalices for all humankind. We are uniquely connected to the Moon and her cycles of illumination. We are soft and gentle, fierce and strong, patient and loyal.
We are so strongly connected to nature, to the trees, to the plants, to the earth, that we have innate and inherent knowledge about herbal medicine, crystal energy, earthly magick, and how to heal our bodies, birth our children, tend to and care for those around us.
I believe we as women need to be able to access this sacred rage. We need to be able to hear it, to feel it, to be in it and with it at times when the wisdom and inner knowing wants to come roaring to the surface and the only way it can be channelled is through us. This thread that runs through the core of Gaia, through the earth, the crystalline layer, the soil, the dirt, to every woman that existed when women were revered, to every woman that existed when women became persecuted, to every woman that was executed, abused, held down, raped, violated, or silenced, through to every woman that was told she can’t, she couldn’t, she shouldn’t, it runs through every single one of our wombs and allows us to feel that pain, that anger, that sacred fucking rage. It is a rage that you are entitled to as a woman, and you have every right to feel safe enough to express it.
I believe that the divine masculine, is not here to continue this persecution. The divine masculine holds a safe container for the divine feminine to be able to unleash this rage and be held and heard and felt. The divine masculine is able to hold space for the knowledge and truth that comes through the rage.
This is not a space for more wounding, more triggering, more ego bashing. It is a space for deep ancestral healing and the release of ancient pain so that we can move forward, but also so that we can go deeper, so that we can come full circle and reconnect to that time when women were divinely connected, and held sacred, sacred to themselves, and sacred to each other.
I never began to heal though my sacred rage until I was in the relationship I am now. I lived in deep rooted fear of every masculine connection I had in my life, from my grandfathers, to my father (who I talk about frequently) to my ex-husband. I wasn’t scared of them, none of them were ever violent or threatening to me. But none of them ever felt safe to me to be able to be in my sacred rage. I definitely felt small, insignificant, not worthy of being heard. My rage was insignificant. Perhaps even something to be ridiculed. It was never valid.
Right now, I find myself in a relationship with my Twin Flame, which has its own challenges, but with it brings a deep sense of safety as well that I can be in that space. That I can feel my sacred rage, I can express it, I can process it and find my way through it without judgement or ridicule. It is valid, it is heard, it is allowed, it is forgiven.
Is it messy and difficult? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Is it bigger than me sometimes, than both of us, and scary? Yes. Without question.
Has it always just felt safe and heard? No. It took time. It took an awful lot of patience, compromise, listening, presence, accountability, tears, tiredness, and soul searching. It took some hard and painful lessons, some firm and unquestionable boundaries, and trust. Lots and lots of trust. And, it’s a constant moving target that like everything on this path, is never ‘fixed’, never ‘finished’.
It’s so heavily conditioned within us that as women we shouldn’t feel rage. It’s become the butt of jokes, the curse of being a woman, it’s to blame for our downfalls, our missteps, our ‘bad attitudes’, it’s not ‘attractive’, it’s not ‘feminine’, it’s not acceptable in modern society (patriarchal society) and yet, don’t we, as women, have every right to be angry?
Don’t we have every right to feel that rage?
Do these words make you feel that trickle of red-hot burning lava begin deep within you? Does it light a fire that feels familiar? You know this space. As a woman, you already know this pain. You already feel it through every cell in your body and you’ve probably been told far too many times to keep a lid on it.
I invite you to feel it. To safely hold it. To look at it and love it. To observe it and witness its beauty. It is beautiful. It is ancient. It is part of who you are, and it helps you to anchor your connection to Mother Earth from a place of fierce truth and authenticity. To express it somehow, through words, through tears, through screaming if that’s how it rises.
If you don’t feel safe to feel it, I invite you to look at that without judgement. To search for the ‘whys’ within your ‘I can’t’s
If you made it this far, I know something within these words resonated with you. I see you. I love you. You are worthy.
So much love to you all.