We are coming together to birth our grief. We grieve…
life, not just death.
the reluctance to fully come into our bodies.
that life is not what we want it to be.
that life is not what we were told it would be.
the lives we haven’t yet lived.
the lives we have been fearful to live.
what we know we are here to give and have not yet given.
the voice we have not been able to voice.
the loss of our sexual expression.
the loss of our power.
the emptiness of what we have been promised.
the emptiness of what we have created.
what it means to be in a body and feel everything we feel.
Whether extreme pain or pleasure, our voices have been dampened. We don’t wail anymore. We don’t moan. Are we loud enough?
The land calls us. She beckons us to feel our grief on her. She invites our grief to come through our bodies so she can process it through the Earth. Body and land merge.
There is an aversion to grief, and yet there is a hunger to explore it. It is the vehicle to feel deeply. When we surrender to grief, we are given everything we need to experience.
The crone says: I see you. She holds out her hand. We feel the pain and grieve what we have created. Burn it all down! We dance the death. We walk through the fire. We taste the ashes. The fire cleanses us. We are re-birthed. Like a phoenix, we rise again.
We take responsibility for what we have each done and we take responsibility to birth something new. As Life wakes up to itself, creation and destruction become one. We are leaders with broken open hearts. We are the creators of life. What will we create that had to have an ending first?