Be brave, wild woman. Be strong. You are not alone. We are here.
We are all longing to go home to some place we have never been—a place half-remembered and half-envisioned we can only catch glimpses of from time to time. Community. Somewhere, there are people to whom we can speak with passion without having the words catch in our throats. Somewhere a circle of hands will open to receive us, eyes will light up as we enter, voices will celebrate with us whenever we come into our own power. Community means strength that joins our strength to do the work that needs to be done. Arms to hold us when we falter. A circle of healing. A circle of friends. Someplace where we can be free.
We hear the call. It vibrates in our bones. The words move us in ways we cannot explain, for we do not know what they mean. We have forgotten the language. The language of our ancestors, the language passed down to us aside the circle of fire, the language our mind has forgotten, the language our soul will never forget. The language of female magic.
The woman’s natural state is wild. She is born able to navigate the ways of nature and man—communicating fluidly between the two. She is born with uncommon sight, uncomfortable knowing. Her greatest challenge will be avoiding the blows of doubt and control, thrown by those who fear her power. Her entire life, she will face the foe of reason that will attempt to quiet her voice and dampen her flame.
Little do they know the raw power they face. They are wise to fear but stupid in the methods they choose. They cannot conquer her. Too few have seen the wisdom of making her an ally, keeping her in confidence, consulting her knowing. Standing in awe of her.
Before she can command awe, she must survive the weapons of man’s fear and her own thirst for self-destruction.
A quick look amongst books, stacked under the guise of ‘self-help’, shows the desperation at hand. She is being crippled by the weight of expectation and normalcy. Starving the fire in effort to fit in and avoid condemnation—leaving her a wisp of her true self. An empty hull moved and walked only by the perceived desires of others. She loses her sense of direction. Her instinct is faint, it is hard for her to hear.
She operates by the ways of the world—no longer by the rhythm of nature.
Every now and then, between the office and laundry, she can hear the whisper of the crone but she cannot understand the words. She can feel the pull of her womb, her heart, and of her hands. But pulling where? She does not know. She can no longer see the magic around her. She pushes the voice away and continues tasking.
She pushes the voice away with media, food, drugs, PTO meetings, to-do-lists, codependent relationships, and religion. What she gets in return is: self loathing, fatigue, anxiety, alcoholism, stress related illnesses, depression, and a deformed sense of sexuality.
She blindly attempts to recreate the circle of sacred feminine—that which births the wild woman—through book clubs, stitch-N-bitch groups, belly dancing, dancing aerobics like Zumba, working in medicine, and striving to restore women to places of ‘power’ in business and religious settings.
Her attempts at reconnecting with the oracle, crone, sorceress, witch, and shaman, that came before her, are deviated by the voice of The Harpy.
When she says, “I will do this.”
The Harpy answers, “you will look ridiculous and people will laugh at you.”
She says, “fine then, I will do that.”
And the Harpy replies, “you know nothing.”
Her inner dialog, the dialog that does not include her ancestors, will then continue to poison her spirit with excuses such as: “I don’t have the time, money, or energy.”
Using those excuses, she will hide herself among the office corridors, neighborhood meetings, and church pews, shielding herself from physical, emotional, and financial persecution.
Where have the wild women gone?
They have gone no where, they have simply gone deaf.
They are destined to a spiritual demise unless they quiet their mind and listen for the call.
The call will say “Be the queen of your castle, be the healer of your tribe, be the sage of your community, be the seer of your generation. Rise up to those who try to silence you. Rise up against those who deny your self. Look them in the eye and capture their hearts—for the eternal love of the woman is the greatest power of all.
Tell stories of magic, speak the native tongue, howl at the moon, honor the sacred blood, know the power of your sexual gift. Tell them, tell all who will listen, ‘Any who shall penetrate me will enter into a place of magic and creation and will leave them forever changed.’”
Be brave, wild woman. Be strong. You are not alone. We are here. Every voice that is added to the collective remembrance of our magical origins, raises the decibel of the call. Every voice that is added, brings another one near. The louder the call becomes, the harder it will be to deny. Be brave, wild woman. Unfold into your true self. Become our modern day folklore.
“But how will I find the others?”, she asks in a hushed voice.
The modern day wild woman uses her creative force in accordance with her own will. Introverted by nature, yet will easily join crowds when given the opportunity to teach or learn. The modern day wild woman has a diverse group of friends, often seeks self employment, excels at one or more creative art, and is the person others seek for guidance and advice in times of need. You will know her by the way she fiercely wields her grace. You will long for her and she will open her hands to receive you. You will falter in her arms, returned to your rightful community, you can rest, and you will be healed, by the circle of friends.
Sarah is an author, life coach, creator of the Mindful Energy Method, speaker, and intuitive, and has spent the last fifteen years helping people create empowered lives. If you’d like to work with her personally, reach out here. You can also pick up Sarah’s new book, Mindful Energy : A Journey of Transformation to find simple, practical and powerful tools to empower your life.