We once met as a Tribe of women grown strong through generations of story, myth, ritual, celebrations, lessons and teachings shared from intimate firsthand experience. Growing in maturity and wisdom each understanding that every woman her Sister and a reflection of her own potentiality. We met through the shedding of our blood each month to share our stories in tenderness, responsibility and love. Anita Diamant outlined an ancient memory for us in The Red Tent awakening women across the Globe to gather in sacredness and unity to explore the ancient mysteries of being a woman.
My Blood Story
From a young age I had a curiosity about menstruation. I learned much from Are You There God It's Me Margaret by Judy Bloom checked out from the school library and annual lessons from sex education classes starting in the 5th grade. I was excited for the day menarche would come and felt sexually prepared with an understanding of how to be safe when I decided to take a lover. My mother referred to menstruation as "being on the rag" in disgust. When my time to bleed came, it came with a brutal fury -- bleeding heavily on a 10 day on 10 day off cycle. Then, I understood the pain my mother endured as a woman but it would take nearly 30 years before I would understand why the women in my lineage endure so much menstrual difficulty. The pain radiated so badly my femurs felt as though they might break. Within two years, I had painful ovarian cysts, my fantasy with menstruation was definitely over. I desired to have a hysterectomy and swore off ever having children.
I still enjoyed many physical activities and intimate experiences with lovers but the relationship I had with myself as a woman became increasingly painful. I sought many alternative practitioners, holistic and medical remedies, including -- in the most extreme -- a uterine ablation at 33. I inadvertently severed the wisdom of my bones while simultaneously unearthing the history of my bloodshed. Silently this growing desire crept in urging me to seek answers about being a woman, learning and studying the relationships with ourselves and each other. The physical action of cauterizing my womb pushed me to reclaim the lost pieces of my Soul over the course of 9 years I would understand along the Heroine's Journey. I wholeheartedly dedicated myself to know the origin of my blood.
Discover Your Blood Story
Maybe you desire to know and own your sacred wisdom. When we understand how to apply The Heroine's Journey in our lives we become masters of our destiny with the ability to manifest our deepest desires. There is a cost when of moving through the depths, a period of loss and surrender to reemerge no longer innocent but rather, in the opportune place to review the cycle of life and use that knowledge to empower our future. Remembering and claiming your blood story can help you develop an understanding of the difference between a safe and committed lover and the easy pleasure of a hedonist. To explore the explosive energy sometimes experienced in childbirth and the heartache when birthing plans go awry. Or giving yourself permission to tenderly face the reality of contracting a sexually transmitted disease(s) or processing what it means to be unable to conceive. Finally expressing how it actually felt to lose a pregnancy without shame be it through natural phenomena, trauma, abortion or relief. It is a joyful experience to know ourselves intimately through self pleasure and acceptance before sharing our sacred wisdom and bodies with another and knowing the art of fully surrendering for the first time or thousandth with a trusted partner. Our blood stories carry so much wisdom, I hope you'll be with yours too.
Mentored by signs and symbols guiding life I listen deeply to a purposeful will beyond space and time to...
I hike in the silence of Nature
to hear our Earth Mother breathe clearly
in the quiet stillness before dawn
I scribe to record holy experiences, divine lessons
and to ground the gift of ancient teachings to the here
the erotic expression of elements
into a new
and imagined creation
my fingers, palms, and together, my hands
I dance with the ebb
of the cosmic sea tranced out in ecstatic bliss
I paint to express when left without.