REWEAVING THE WORLD
The women are the weave, the stitch, the energy of the Divine Feminine is held in a spiral, in the circling back to again and again. We do not heal the wound in layers that look like lines. We spiral back to deeper places with The energy of the Divine Masculine feels like the container and the structure. Yet my feminine does not like to be contained. She is WILD and rebellious, she is CHAOS incarnate. Without the structure that the masculine offers, she can and does sometimes, spiral out of control into destruction. She can trash a space in nothing flat.
Without the structure of the energy of the divine masculine, she cannot be brought to form, into matter. She remains a shape-shifter, beyond reach, ungraspable. She cackles in her freedom, her spiral dance across the Cosmic Universe. However, many cannot see her and this makes her sad. And mad. There is nothing that enrages her more than not being seen, not being heard and not being witnessed. In this state, she can elude healing. The irony and the conundrum, is that, in order to embody healing in human form, she must embrace the inner divine masculine and the inner divine feminine and bring them into balance. In order to affect healing in the world, her task is to embody the UNION, the hieros-gamos, the divine marriage of the masculine and the feminine WITHIN herself. Where the conundrum or the oxymoron lies, is that, on subconscious levels, she has rejected the divine masculine or she has put up guards against him. He is the wounded Fisher-King, he is the wound. He has enacted, the wounding, embodying the abuser, the perpetrator, the misuse of power and structure, creating structure that harms. Therefore to embrace him feels impossible. How then to find the healing?
Where is the untangling? How can it be accomplished? The balls of yarn have become impossibly knotted and tangled through thousands of years of violence. The karmic consequences seem insurmountable. To reweave a beautiful garment, my Mythic Feminine wonders how the untangling can be achieved?
The call of the ancestors across the winds of time, is heard and they have wisdom and answers to share. They come from the heavens, they come from the light. They are the illuminators. She turns her face to the light, she listens for the messages.
“Dance over the bones, dance over the bones, dance over the bones” This is what they chant. She does not know how this will help but she chooses to trust.
As she dances, she grieves for all that has been lost. She wails and she weeps, she oozes oceans she creates rivers of holy water. She cries for the senseless deaths and for the unnamed tragedies. For the unbearable suffering. She cries and she cries until her tears transform into laughter and then she laughs and she celebrates. She undulates and she howls at the moon in her wild woman way. She sees that the reweaving does not have to wait for the untangling. She sees that they can happen simultaneously, that within the cocoon, the container of chaos, of the cosmic soup that, METAMORPHOSIS happens. She sees how the circles and the gatherings and the red thread is creating a new container, a web, a structure, that heals and that stretches and grows and moves, as needed. She begins to see how she has come to be one of the weavers and to hold her piece of the red thread. She rejoices to be part of the reweaving of the world.