Tag - warrior

Sacred Masculine or Scared Masculine?

The truth is, it’s a fine line!

I lived the first fifteen years of my life in fear that my step mother would assault me while I was at home and when I was at school I lived in fear that I would be teased by my peers for wearing uncool clothes or be verbally or physically attacked by the rougher kids from the other more working class estate.  After I left home I spent seven years with no fixed abode in fear of my fellow drug crazed traveller friends, the abuse of power by the police or local vigilantes.  Yes, fear was my constant companion.  It was there lurking in the shadows all the time like Gollum in Lord of the Rings, following, waiting, whispering.

Fear is a natural aspect of being human.  It is designed to keep us safe so that we alerted to danger and choose appropriate action when our safety is threatened.  But what if we are a child and there are no options that will make us safe?  Then we find ourselves in fight and flight all of the time and the flow of cortisol and stress chemicals become our default state, placing great stress on our adrenal glands and our biology so that our bodies have to try to compensate for this as best they can.  Add to this, if you are in a male body, the platitude that ‘big boys don’t cry’ so that these fear based emotions are not allowed to be processed and we have the beginnings of boys supressing and denying their feelings.  Every young boy will experience fear to varying degrees no matter how lovingly he is raised and consciously or unconsciously will absorb the information that you are ‘less than’ if you feel fear and often are actually  taught to feel shame for feeling fear when it does arise and it can’t be concealed. So we learn to give ourselves a hard time for having a hard time, we shame ourselves!

When a baby is upset or fearful it will cry and alert it’s carers that something is wrong and hopefully it will be attended to.  The emotion is expressed through the sound and through the release of tears.  When a duck has finished a skirmish with another, it will raise itself up and flap its wings to release any of the emotion created in the conflict.  Nature has designed it so that emotional energy is released as it is felt and therefore causes no lasting physical, psychological or emotional harm.

But what happens when a boy or a man’s fear is not expressed?  Then we have a whole society of boys in men’s bodies who adopt many different ways to numb or distract or to conceal their fear. This is most commonly done through addictions like overworking, alcohol, pornography, over consuming food or material things, wearing the mask of status or striving for what our dysfunctional society calls ‘success’. And sadly we leave the realms of our bodies, of our hearts, of our feelings and we retreat into our heads. We become talking heads. If our male leaders were truly in touch with their feelings they could not make the decisions that they do which they know will cause so much suffering to children, women and the planet. These are the very things that the sacred man knows he was born to protect, to raise up and honour.  But we live in a world where men are taught not to feel and we see the result of this disconnect between head and heart.

Let’s be clear that most if not all ‘negative’ or uncomfortable emotions arise from fear: shame, jealousy, guilt, anger all have fear at their root.  This is why the road to sacred masculinity is paved with fear.  To make that epic journey from the head back to the heart I have had to feel much of the fear that had been trapped in my body for decades.  Sometimes I feel fear and I don’t know what it is related to and I just have to trust that it is old energy leaving. Sometimes a situation will trigger an old memory and fear will arise that is far in excess of the current situation.

I know that this issue is not necessarily gender specific.  Women carry the same wound to a large extent.  So it is vitally important that when a man is making that courageous journey back to his heart that he is not shamed or dishonoured for whatever arises.  I have been held in the arms of men and sobbed and sobbed uncontrollably at times when I felt safe enough to allow the years of unexpressed fear to be felt and to leave.  The sacred masculine is not a hunky, tattooed, warrior who fears nothing. He is a man who dares to walk a road without a map because there is little record of this happening before on this earth in our recorded, censored and distorted ‘his’story. He is a man who keeps stepping toward what he fears regardless of how much it evokes haunted memories of past injustices or abuse or shaming that he suffered.

I feel it is no coincidence that the words sacred and scared are so similar.  To become sacred you must acknowledge your scaredness.  You must make fear your constant companion until it is time for you to go your separate ways. Perhaps that day will come or perhaps it will not.  I don’t know because for now I know that, although in much smaller ways, I still find, that I am asked to embrace and honour my fears most days. It seems the journey of becoming the best version of ourselves is never ending and letting go of fear is key to this process.

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Yesterday I Fell…

…the challenges had been coming too quick and fast and I didn’t have enough time to regroup and centre myself. I forgot about me and tried to carry too much.  The fear touched some tender scars and the discomfort in my body clouded my vision and I lost sight of who I really am. My little boy got scared and the man was a little too hard on him.

Yesterday I fell, I held space for those who I was responsible for as best as I could and gave my best knowing that it was good enough. In the giving I received and I was reminded of my worth. It needed to be a gentle day. Everything that was not immediately necessary was put on hold while I rested in my falling, while I viewed everything from my new vantage point in the corner of my world with my arms hugging my tucked up knees and my head bowed.  I rocked myself gently.

Yesterday I fell and yet my friend phoned asking if now was a good time to call. And I replied that the timing was perfect and I gave thanks for the beauty of friends and connection and I spoke my truth from a tender vulnerable place inside me. And I missed him when he was gone.

Yesterday I fell and still I moved around the grey alien landscape of the supermarket buying groceries that would be needed for the imminent arrival of my son so that there would be wholesome sustenance for both of us. I moved around the distant world getting stuff done and the shapes of people were unaware that I had fallen.

Yesterday I fell and still my soul heard the call and my heavy legs walked the sanctuary of my hills, plodding my way up to the summit and turning to face the sun that appeared momentarily from behind the thick, mottled clouds. I lay and allowed my body to be held by the earth and I breathed it all in and breathed it all out allowing the sun’s rays into my wide open mouth and then gulped and swallowed lungs full of sunshine into me.

Yesterday I fell and so I took myself to bed early and snuggled myself under the comfort of my warm soft covers and felt my fallen-ness. I felt the heavy sensations in my tired body and with my mind I caressed my weariness.

Yesterday I fell and today I awake to the sound of rain outside my open window. The clouds have broken and let fall their cleansing drops and the air feels fresher and lighter again. There was not a spectacular sunrise to be seen today but never the less a new day has dawned.  My tender heart reminds me to go gently for today I rise again. Today is a new day and today I rise and I am at peace knowing that ‘all is well and all manner of things shall be well,’ in spite of the fact and partly because…yesterday I fell.

 

 

 

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What is the Sacred Masculine?

 

‘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.’

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A message for human men from Herne The Hunter, The Horned God and Lord of the Forest and Wild Places.

What do you see when you see my image here? Does my appearance alarm you? Do not be alarmed it may just be that you see my power, my primal energy which for too long has been abused and twisted and wielded over others rather than being used to protect and to raise up as it was meant to.

For too long you have been domesticated with this short, tidy hair, this smooth shaved face and body, these elegant clothes,disguises, costumes, uniforms reeking of washing powder and chemical products designed to hide the true smell of man. The smell of earth and fire and human.

I too, along with The Christ and Shiva and Merlin and Arthur and all the others are the face of the sacred masculine that now, finally is stirring from many generations of slumber. Like the first shoots of the crocuses from the frozen earth the energy is rising. I am rising, I am awakening and I am here to take my rightful seat upon my throne once again. The truth can only be hidden for so long. The cracks of the false grow bigger and bigger in your world as the old stories, the old lies that you were fed no longer stand. You see the mockery of the sacred masculine in your so called leaders; these petulant, dangerous boys in men’s bodies. Their time draws nigh, for once the sacred masculine stirs from his sleep he can only awaken further and claim his sovereignty…it is too late for him to fall back to sleep.

For too long have you been tamed and subjugated. For too long have you believed the lies of your fathers and the so called holy men. For too long have you carried the guilt and shame for the defilement of the divine feminine. This was not your doing, it never was and never shall be. Now is the time of honouring and revering and raising Her up so that the true power and magic of She can be returned to Her throne where we will sit together side by side in holy communion and gaze out on the restored harmony and balance, the miracle and mystery of this magnificent creation.

O yes I am a leader and I shall lead for I am a force to be reckoned with, for I am Herne The Horned God, Lord of the wild places, I am Love and Truth in Action and know this : all of my leading will be guided by Her. She is my way, my light…my Love.

It is time for me to deepen my re-wilding, to sink deeper into the earth so that I can rise cleaner and clearer and stronger in my loving softness with the all encompassing truth that permeates every cell of my body. It is time for me to reach higher into the sky so that my fingers touch the stars and the cool warmth of the moon’s grace warms my face. The sun of my heart blazes with righteous justice and passion that will see that this work will be done. I am here to serve Her and to see that the divine union of the sacred masculine and feminine is once again restored upon this earth.

I am Herne the Hunter. Be alert when you are out walking the sacred earth for I shall be with you if you dare to venture into the wild places within and without, that are my home. But do not be alarmed if you should glimpse me amongst the trees, the rocks; I mean you no harm. I am The Lord of the Wild places and my presence in your life is to remind and reconnect you with the primal, wild power that resides within you.

It is time to remember.
It is time to reawaken from your slumber.
It is time to honour Her for in so doing you shall return to your throne.
And so it is. Blessed Be 

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If You Come To My Door

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…

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The All-One Tree

Can you see the tree that stands all alone on the hill?
How complete she seems unto herself as you hurry by.

But slow down, pause a while and look again.

See how her sure branches reach and merge with the light infinity of sky.
See how she makes love with the gentle breeze; caressed and fondled she whispers her delight in the shimmering of her delicate leaves.
See how the sun warms her and the frost adorns her; different lovers who come to be with her a while.

How the raindrops fall upon her, trickling down her branches and trunk into the soil to be drunk by her and released again into the sky to reunite with the shape-shifter clouds that float effortlessly by.

Her leaves practise their alchemy breathing in and breathing out. Silently, unobtrusively wanting no applause or recognition she stands humbly performing her magic.

If you wait a while you will see how the buzzard comes to rest a while in the safety of her branches and look out on the majesty of creation.
You will see how the finches and sparrows come to dine on the small creatures that have made their homes in the folds and sinews of her woody bark.
The squirrels that scamper and chase along her elevated highways and the mice curled in their cosy nest in the folds where her roots meet her trunk.

When the cold days come she rests and relaxes and her leaves and energy fall,
Down, down, down into her roots that twist and turn, held as they are, embraced in the cool darkness of the sacred earth.

Can you see the tree that stands all alone on the hill?
Look a little closer, a little deeper, a little more slowly with the eyes of your heart.
And she will re-mind you that you are never really alone.

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