Kindling the Fire of the Sacred Feminine

Our meditation circle gathers.  We take turns, reporting how we've been since last week.  Each woman's experience is received with a nod, a knowing smile, laughter.

Kathy, only 54, is undergoing hip replacement surgery this week. So instead of our usual sharing after meditation, I suggest that  we quietly make our way  to the adjacent sun room and give Kathy a healing.  Anticipating their, I wouldn't know what to do, I suggest simply placing hands and intending the most benevolent  outcome for our sister of the circle.

They're intrigued.  And willing.

As I chime the end of our meditation, everyone moves silently into place -- Kathy on the table, the rest of us encircling her.  I indicate where each one may place her hands and   murmur an invocation. The women can tune in or tune me out, per their own guidance.

And then the magic begins.

Mary, another trained healer posted at the right hip, whispers to Kathy's body, thanking the worn-out hip for it's service, alerting the surrounding muscles and tendons that the hip will be removed and replaced. She invites the entire area to accept the new hip, acknowledging the wisdom of the body to knit itself back together -- cell and soft tissue, bone and blood -- each part is invited to assist in the healing of the whole.

I rest my palms on the back of each healer's heart, supporting them in getting acquainted with their innate power to nurture in this way.  The energy being generated is visceral, pulsing in waves beneath our hands.

My sense is that Kathy is relinquishing the old -- and embracing a new way of walking in the world.

Moving forward will no longer be fraught with pain.

Pushing will be balanced with allowing.

Exertion will be balanced with rest and repletion.

The feminine aspects of her being will  rise up to balance her masculine aspects.  The inner feminine strengths of intuitive knowing, receiving and surrender will temper the inner masculine strengths of logical analysis, giving and asserting. 

These parts of herself will inform each other, yielding a greater wisdom than either side can accomplish on it's own.

The marriage of these polarities transcends either/or, becoming both/and.

All of this feels larger that one woman's journey. The air shimmers, reminding us --  as within, so without.

This what the shift of ages portends.

The Piscean Age, the patriarchy of the last 2000 years, has been one of conquest.  As we recover the lost  sacred feminine, duality gives way to unity, competition evolves into cooperation, and survival of the fittest becomes recognition of the One Being that we are. When the sacred masculine and feminine energies merge, a new age is born.

Withdrawing our hands, everyone is glowing with awe.  Kathy's hip pain is gone; she hugs each of her healers in gratitude. Each healer has been initiated -- her connection with the vast field of universal intelligence confirmed.

Later, at Kathy's request, I let the ladies know the outcome of the surgery.  It took less time than expected.  She was walking within an hour of leaving the recovery room.  By day two, she had graduated from the walker to an aluminum cane.  Kathy never rated her pain level (on a scale of 1-10) at more than 5. She requires no physical therapy.

Such is the power of intention when women gather. There's something primal in the ritual of tending to one facing an ordeal, summoning up one's presence in service to another.  The sacred feminine is born in moments like these, when healing power leaps to life like flames kindled by light and love -- illuminating an inner sanctum that has been too long dark.

Entrainment

Dreams will not be thwarted,

Faith will be rewarded

Our meditation circle  gathered on Monday evening, a blustery night.  The women came in, along with the gusting wind, ready for some peace.  Each one related daily difficulties -- the death of a loved one, a troublesome diagnosis,  being surrounded by negativity. 

Our inner journey that night had an unusual destination:  the sacred space of the heart.  To satisfy our minds, I gave a preview of the trip.  This is an opportunity to anticipate obstacles and ask questions so that once we get started, we can let go of all that and enter into the creative, imaginal realm, where intuition takes over and sacred magic transpires.

Now for the real thing.  Everyone settles in comfortably.  After the usual progressive relaxation, we connect with the earth, the sacred feminine aspect of creation.  Next we open to connect with the night sky, the divine father creator of All That Is.  Then we invite these energies to mingle in our heart chakra, knowing ourselves as a divine child of divine parents -- a holy trinity.

This earth/sky connection is familiar to the group.  We feel ourselves as bridges for  gentle, powerful, opposing energies to flow through -- male and female, giving and receiving, acting and waiting, yang and yin.  Together, they make us whole.

Yet we have not ventured into the heart itself.  And here we are, on the threshold.  Gently, using the visualization I had laid out earlier, we set the intention (prayed) that any obstacle to entering be removed, permitting each woman to enter her own sacred heart space.

Then, like a ghost gliding through a wall, each one made her way into her physical heart.  Most found it dark.  I was guiding them with excerpts from Drunvalo Melchizedek's Living in the Heart:  How to Enter into the Sacred Space of the Heart.  Per his instructions, I said, "Let there be light."  Each woman was gifted with an experience of her inner sanctum, her chamber of creation.

Now we enjoy silence for 15 minutes --  potent time to explore inner worlds.  This is my opportunity to offer healing to each one, if only briefly.  Some ladies are lying on the floor, one is perched on the hearth by the fire, others sit cross legged or on the couch.  I visit each one, placing my hands you-know-where.

To my amazement, every single woman's heart chakra is open and flowing, spinning with strength and tenderness.  If the heart was quiet at first, it blossomed in the grace that filled the room.  As I went from heart to heart, the word entrainment came to mind. An invisible, yet tangible, momentum was fueling our experience.  

So this morning I look up the word  "entrain:  to draw in and transport by the flow...."  Yes, the power of the group enhanced our individual experiences.  We somehow brought each other along for quite a ride.  And even though this definition describes how women's inner wisdom is contagious, I like my pocket dictionary definition too.  It simply says, "to board a train." I smile, thinking of Springsteen's lyrics from Land of Hope and Dreams:  Dreams will not be thwarted, faith will be rewarded, on this train."  

Grace

Last Saturday morning we woke up to the thinnest coating of snow.  It's only 13 degrees outside but I  bundle up and go for a walk.  As I round the corner, the sidewalk is unmarred by footprints; it's a snow-white carpet, scattered with sparks of green and blue, orange and yellow.

It must be the angle of the sun coming up over the rooftops, fracturing the snow crystals into tiny rainbows, strewn not just on the pavement but across frozen lawns as well.

So I blaze a trail on this pristine path, joining other footprints as I round the corner onto Two Rod. I wonder about this pair of footprints; perhaps they belong to Joan and Roseanne, neighbors who are usually finishing their walk as I'm starting out.  Or, could they be Joe and Alica?  No, these are women's sneaker tracks etched in the snow.

As I traverse my usual route, I wonder about the souls of the soles I encounter.  So many patterns, I give them names -- horseshoe heel, windowpane, fish bone, Nike ninja, herringbone, starburst.  So even though I'm walking alone, I feel as though I have company, these snowy sojourners who have come before me. I glance over my shoulder to see  my footprints mingled with theirs and sense an odd unity, a strange melding of time and space, like dimensions colliding.

I make my way as usual to the reservoir.  Here at the dock the snowy crystal coating at my feet remains untouched.  Farther out, the wind has swept the ice clear.  A trio of geese huddle out there, looking taller than usual on their webbed feet.

I don't sit down because if I do, I'll get chilly.  I survey the winter pond. Backyards are exposed, branches are bare, shore stones are edged in ice.  And it's so still.   The silence is vast, hovering over the frozen lake.

I gaze at the handful of prisms scattered on the ice at my feet.  The surface of the pond is three of four feet below the dock I'm standing on.  My focus softens and the sparks of light seem to rise up and fill the air in front of me.  Tiny flecks of green, blue, pink, orange and gold float in the space around me.  This seems  to be an embodiment of grace -- the field of grace that grants access to realms beyond reason.

For me, insight often comes in images.  And this image makes the elusive concept of grace leap to life.  As I turn toward home, I thank the Great Mother in her winter raiment, for rustling her gown and leaving sacred sequins in her wake, seed pearls of wisdom for my healers handbook.

Cold Moon Visitor

The other night, as usual, I went around the house closing up.  When I turn off the last light and close my laptop here at the kitchen table, the stars are visible out the back slider. I usually open the door and gaze for a moment or two, but this night the sky is so open and clear, I make my way through the dark house, pull on a jacket, and step outside.

The moon is just past the half, illuminating the crusty snow, the bones of the gazebo, the sentinel trees.  Branches overhead intertwine and entangle, yet the stars peek through.  I'm looking for Orion's Belt -- the three stars in a row that point to one of the brightest stars in the winter sky, Sirius.  Each step on the ice-encrusted pavers interrupts the night's quiet.

There they are, three points of light, recognizable amid the jumble of winter constellations whose names I don't know. Orion is the mythological  hunter.  It seems we are all hunting for something in deep winter.

Standing on the frozen ground looking up at the heavens orients me somehow.  It banishes anxieties, large and small.  And there have been some large ones.  The death of my husband's mother.  Starting a new job.  Under the stars, perspective enlarges and stresses take their place in the order of things. Breathing in the frigid air feels like inhaling eternity.

As I walk back to the porch, my echoing foot steps disturb an owl!  I look over my shoulder to see him flying in utter silence, white wings gliding.  He settles himself on a craggy branch.  He is marveling at how little I know about his territory -- the dark night, the frigid winter, the sprawling stars.

The owl teaches us to abide these mysteries. He possesses silent wisdom, vision in the night.  Nocturnal omens like these are charged with the import of dreams. Some underground river of knowing unfreezes and begins to yield it's secrets.

Cold Moon Meditation

Give Yourself the Gift of Serenity in 2013 

Join us for our Winter-into-Spring meditation series on Monday evenings, January 28 through March 18, from 7 - 8:30 pm.  This will take us through the first quarter of the wheel of the year.

Each evening will offer instruction to facilitate ease of meditation.  I will present chakra dynamics, showing how these influence your health, overall sense of well-being, and relationships.   In addition, we will explore other tools for getting in touch with your inner wisdom, whether it be aligning with the rhythms of nature, using oracle cards, or discovering your spirit guides.

Using guided imagery, I will lead the group into meditation, with increasing silence as the group decides. We will vary the background music from week to week so you can find what works best for you.  Each meditation is designed to calm, center and ground you within your being in order to contact your divine essence. We will become increasingly comfortable residing in stillness and silence.

The atmosphere is open and relaxed; wear comfortable clothing and bring a cushion or two.  Photos of our beautiful meditation space are available here on the blog -- please browse to view the space and get acquainted with me. Invite a friend or two for these evenings of deep nurturance.

The fee for the eight week series is $80, payable on the first evening, unless other arrangements have been made. To reserve a spot, you may comment below, leave a message at blueheronhealingct@gmail.com or call 860-563-5682.

Give Yourself the Gift of Meditation in 2013

In the very near future, I'll be posting specifics about our upcoming  meditation circle. I plan to resume on Monday evenings at 7 pm until approximately 8:30.  If you are interested in joining us, save that space on your calendar.

We will most likely begin on Monday, January 28th.  I'm not sure about content but will firm up ideas and let you know what to expect in the coming weeks.  Let me know if there's something in particular that you're struggling with or interested in learning more about.  In any event, there will be a guided meditation every week, with increasing amounts of silence as the group becomes comfortable.

Please invite anyone you think might benefit from this calming practice.  The charge will be $10 per evening and I may extend the number of meetings to 10.  So the fee for the series would be $100.

Looking forward to co-creating a sacred breathing space for us all as we enter this blessed new year.

Julie