Blood Magic

Today the fire of the full moon swells in me once again.  I have spoken with many of my female friends, and something about this moment is awakening the hot divine energies of the feminine within us.  There are millions protesting economic injustices in America and across the world right now.  The wave of massive political change which swept across the Middle East is spreading!  And the earth herself is writhing, moaning, allowing her magnetism to shift and her relationship to the sun to reinvent itself.  In my opinion, humanity is responding to celestial changes, to the impulses of the earth, and to our collective consciousness.  


This past week I had the fortune to bask in the sun and warmth of Los Molinos, a valley formed of gypsum crystal in the Andalusian hills of Spain.  So lucky and so blessed in the space of friends, I witnessed an amplification of all that needs to clear, recesses which still need healing, and an opening of light from within. Walking barefoot on the dirt, scents of sagebrush and palm heavy and sweet, stars so clear, and the oasis of the river in the valley.  Magic. It was as if my body became the whole earth and I was the gypsum crystal, and shedding layers and layers of myself in rainbows and waves, I became so free. My blood time was with me and in her power I knew myself not just as woman, but as all women.  We sang together there and my bones will not forget, will not forget the freedom and the earth and the power they inhabited.  Since returning to the UK, with the strength of a fire and a blood moon to support the journey, flashes of a primal kundalini are continuing to sweep my system.  The wave is at once deeply personal - as I rise within - and global - as the occupy movement takes root and new languages, new desires are birthed in the collective soul.  Heat is flowing from the mother straight through all of us.


Authors Drunvalo Melchizedek and Llewlyn Vaughn Lee, among others, speak about a rising tide of feminine energy.  That tide is rising both in the earth and in the beings who inhabit her, for we are not separate.  whenthesoulawakens


And so, in the spirit of Helen Cixous and Luce Irigaray and the early heartfelt feminists, I welcome my cyclical self, as part of the cyclical earth and humanity, and with a roar of power proclaim that I am a flower.  

The Datura was flowering my last two days in Los Molinos :)

A flower, she blooms when she is sung to, she is frail and wide open, she draws her power from the earth and her delight from the sun and rain, she is not afraid of withering or death, she can sprout from the top of a skyscraper or from a bedrock of crystal, she is eternal in her willingness to share, to bloom again, and yet again.  She speaks through her fragrance, her heart.  In the words of Mevlana Rumi, "Become crumbled, become earth so that wildflowers may grow up within you, you have been stony too long."