‘What is the Sacred Masculine?’ She asked. ‘Well,’ he replied:
‘He is the phoenix risen from the flames, there may be ash on his beard and the smell of smoke in his hair
And He will feel like the sunrise in a peachy, orange sky after the long dark night.
He is the one that was wounded to the core and now stands straight and strong again.
He is the one that was broken and has dressed his own wounds from the battles he fought.
He is the one that wandered the dusty grey shadow lands for ever and a day but has returned to feel the warmth of the sun kiss his scarred flesh.
He is the one that was lost in the dark tangles of the thorny brambles, who now lies on his back in the grassy, sunlit clearing transfixed, mesmerised by the exquisite, simple beauty of the birdsong and the clouds floating by.
It is he who has tamed his wild monkey mind and has become its astute and fair master.
It is he who now rides on the wings of the dragon that once snarled and breathed smoke and fire to keep him from his treasure, hidden in the dark places within.
It is he who falls to his knees at Her feet and kisses Her belly: the spiral, vortex, womb of creation.
It is he who breathes his love into Her, causing her body to shudder and shimmer in ecstasy and release.
It is he who knows where to place his hands and lips and his loving gaze.
It is he who knows that he was born to lead and yet will only lead by following Her guidance.
It is he who will speak his truth even when he knows that he will not be loved for it.
And he who will hold his tongue when it is time to listen tenderly with an open mind and heart.
He is the one with universes and galaxies spinning inside his chest.
He is the one that carries both the sun and moon in his hands and when She beckons they eclipse at his heart.
He is the mirror in which you fear to look because although in his polished silver reflection you will see your dazzling light you will also see the shadows of the forms that you have yet to embrace and make love to.
He is the one who is no longer distracted by the ephemeral trinkets of knowledge and false prophets.
He is the one who looks inside with honest, courageous eyes to see what needs to be seen and cleared with the bright light of his pure awareness and integrity.
He is the one who cries tears of joy at the sound of a child laughing and whose glowing face beams and chuckles at the feel of the puppy’s tongue on his naked feet.
He is the one who will hang his head just long enough to acknowledge his error fully and feel the impact of his choice before raising his face once again, ready to do what is needed to set right that which was not in alignment with truth.
He is the one who is not ashamed to admit when he has been lost for a while in the mist of fear, arrogance and pride; he who embraces his vulnerability with strong, kind arms.
He is the embodiment of divine twin flame alchemy and always a work in progress.’
‘And where will I find him?’ She asked.
‘Be still, listen and feel.’ He replied.
‘Can you hear him? Can you feel him? For He is wooing, hunting, longing for you… right now.’
She hung her head.
‘So stop seeking and waiting and balance the twin flame divine masculine and feminine energy within you, for when you are ready your nectar will be fragrant and sweet and as the bumble bee finds the open flower He will surely find you.’
(Who am I to write these words? This is the thought that arises almost at the same time as the thought to express my sadness at how fashion has wounded woman. So I push through, past the thoughts and write anyway…fuck it!! )
Just about every woman that I have known has issues with her body image. ‘My hips are rather boyish, my breasts are too large or too small or too saggy, my hair is the wrong colour, too thin or too curly, my belly or my bum is too big…’ and the list goes on.
So many girls are suffering with mental health issues and eating disorders etc because of how they believe that they are not beautiful just as they are.
So allow me to be bold enough to say that every woman’s body whether we have the pleasure to explore and be with it or not, is a mystery, it is something sacred, incredibly alluring and beautiful.
Yes we men are programmed to varying degrees to notice the fashion magazine like features: the long legs the pronounced curves, high cheekbones and large eyes but we also know that this is just a thin veneer. We also know this is just programming.
Once we go beyond the visual there is so much depth to be appreciated and enjoyed from our other senses and that which is beyond the senses. There is often a conflict that when we lay with a woman we want to keep her at arms length so that we can see her and yet at the same time we want to be so close so that we can feel, smell and taste her (and let’s not even get into the sounds!). These senses do not discriminate based on how she looks. These senses are enjoyed by man to a large extent, by the degree to which woman accepts, loves and honours her own body.
It is possible that the mind will only take us so far. So what then? Is it possible that the body is perhaps the doorway to the divine? Is it possible that through the body we shall return home and this is why most religions have worked so hard to keep us away from loving our bodies and made a big thing about ‘sins of the flesh’? Woman’s body is a portal, it is a miracle, regardless of what shape or size it is. Her body is the temple of her sacred Heart. She is Love em-body-ed!!
Please, woman, remember this.
I wanted to feed the birds so I bought a fine looking bird table from an elderly gentleman who was retired and wanted to put his carpentry skills to good use in the shed at the bottom of his garden.
When at first I hung out the bird feeder and sprinkled the table with seeds the visitors were few.
Sometimes I would have to throw the food in the feeder away because it had gone mouldy and yet I so wanted to feed the birds. I knew they were hungry.
Before too long the big brave birds came: the arrogant, greedy magpies, the comical, strutting pigeons and the quarrelsome blackbirds. And of course the curious robins, they were amongst the first.
And although to begin with I was a little disappointed because I wanted to see the pretty little birds, I decided to do my best to welcome everyone to my bird table!
The winged creatures are a blessing to me. They are a gift: miracles in aeronautical engineering presence of a master creator. Messengers, teachers, delicate beings with wonderful songs to fill the trees and skies.
Like pieces of my spirit the birds flit and fly here, there and everywhere, unfettered by the lightness of their being. As I feed the birds with my humble offerings I feed my spirit which is also returning to the light.
When the winter months grow heavy upon us what else can we do but feed the birds?
What else can we do but tend as lovingly and gently to the aspects of ourselves that yearn for care and kindness?
And with the passing of time and regular care and attention the numbers and varieties of visitors to the bird table increases in the garden of my being; slowly at first and then more and more.
I sit and watch their antics from the comfort of my chair and I smile in welcome at the new arrivals who now grace me with their presence daily.
The pretty multi-coloured ones come now too: the goldfinches and bullfinches and blue tits and great tits, the shy winged ones: acceptance, compassion, gentleness.
So I feed the birds to show them that I love them all.
As I make my morning trip, barefoot across the cold, damp, earth to replenish the bird table for my spirited, winged, treasures I know that as I feed them, so I feed and nourish myself.
And the cold, dark season begins to pass and I am at peace with my winter’s work of kindness and care, tending to the nourishment of the birds as they flit and fly inside me; the arrogant, the gentle, the comical, the cheeky, the quarrelsome, the shy.
After all, I am learning that everyone is welcome at my bird table.
If you come to my door then please leave your mind by the path on the garden gate.
It’s not that there is a problem with your mind, you have a beautiful mind, it’s just that it gets a little lost and scared at times.
Do not leave it by my door because it will bounce and jump, so that it can peak through the windows.
Hang it gently, tenderly on the gatepost as if it were your favourite bag with a box of eggs inside.
If you come to my door then take my outstretched hand for you are most welcome into this sacred space.
Let me take your coat and shoes and take a seat while I prepare you something warm and soothing to sip.
Show me with your eyes when you are ready to be held and I will wrap my strong arms around you so that you will know that you are safe and cherished.
And allow me the pleasure of nuzzling under the tumble of your thick brown curls so that I can breathe you in; your exquisite, delicate, feminine fragrance.
If you come to my door please allow me to prepare some food for us while you lay looking so beautiful on the sofa, and rest your sleepy body.
When our bellies are full let’s watch our spirits swirl and blend with the gentle, warm music and soft, cosy candle light.
If you come to my door then perhaps my body will dance and move for you as it has never done before and I will lay back when I am spent and watch your curves ebb and flow to the rhythm of your life’s passion for itself.
If you come to my door then perhaps you will also come to my bed. Perhaps I will lay my hands on you where they are moved to be or I will breathe into you the sacred Lover’s breath and allow the magic to pulsate, to move and tremble your open, physical form. And the releasing, the transforming will be done with tears and laughter while a deep reverence and gratitude for this human experience shall join us and watch in awe.
Then we shall lay together and I will caress your face allowing the memories and old fears to surface gently like rainbow bubbles whose time has come to burst.
Please come to my door for your love blesses me as it undoes and dissolves that which was never really me.
Your outstretched hand as I go to leave the bed says so sweetly and tenderly ‘don’t go my love. Stay a while longer. I want you.’ Your wanting melts my heart and tears for all the unloved and unwanted parts of my self rise up.
And when we are done with our healing, our feeling, our letting go, then we will slip into a hot bath together to wash each other and feel the wet contours of these miraculous human lives. Frankincense and Lavender oil to anoint these sacred bodies that know and feel so much.
If you come to my door then know that I will miss you when you leave; even though we both know that Love can never really leave itself.
If you come to my door…
In the realm of the mind and of the five senses everything is separate and there is disconnection and there is a you and a me. This is true.
But beyond the mind and beyond the senses everything is connected, energy is vibrating at different frequencies that our 3D senses are not fine enough to discern, which makes more sense of the saying ‘as I do unto others I do to myself.’ There is only One. No more you and me. Only the I AM presence. This is also true.
I like to think of humanity as a human body. Every person and every thing on this planet makes up the complete body of humanity and each individual person is like an individual atom that makes up the whole. All those cells and atoms in our bodies are carrying on their business apparently unaware of other cells in far distant realms of the body. And yet there is a symbiosis an interdependence which takes place perhaps through the grace of consciousness that ensures that, when we are in good health, everything runs smoothly. What a miracle. The same happens in the world in that people in distant lands are responsible for decisions that affect us, clothes, food and much more that impacts on our experiences. What happens on the other side of the world affects us. This is easily seen with weather patterns but as we live from the heart we notice that like the weather, another’s suffering becomes our suffering and another’s joy is felt as our joy. This is why when we return to the heart we cannot sit idly by and allow injustice to happen. We are called to find our way to contribute to making a more beautiful world because we can’t not do this.
The cells in my toe nail do what they need to do so that they create afunctional toe nail that grows and the cells in my eyes do what they need to, to ensure that I can see. But if my toe nail is broken there may be pain and this will affect my vision and perception of my reality and if my eye is damaged I may stub my toe nail. A more extreme example may be that if we have cancer in our throat it is not happening in isolation. It affects the balance and the environment of the whole body/mind/emotions/spirit. Everything is connected and yet there is sometimes only an awareness of this when the system breaks down.
I guess it is living with awareness that helps us remember that everything is connected and our presence constantly reminds us of the miracle and interconnectedness of life. When we arrive at this place we no longer need pain to encourage us to stay in alignment with our true nature, which is love and truth.
When we honour another we honour ourselves. Giving and receiving are really one and the same thing and yet we live in this physical realm of duality. So it is wise to find the balance of giving and receiving in life until by grace we transcend this mind construct.
Christ reminds us that in relation to others, in conscious relationship, of how when we receive, we can do the other a great service by allowing them to give. He was a great giver but he knew that everything is connected and that in receiving Mary (or Ruth’s) act of love he was honouring this universal law and that when we give or receive we strive to do so unconditionally. This practise purifies our hearts.
Giving, receiving and honouring the interconnectivity of Life….another beautiful dance to be enjoyed while we are here in these human forms. Enjoy the dance…