What an incredibly humbling experience to journey with my Sisters of the Colorado Springs Red Tent through the Yoni Flame this weekend. Thank you so very much for honoring me the opportunity to Priestess and to Tascha, of the beautiful and comforting Center for Powerful Living, thank you for your excellent support in functionality throughout the entire process. My mind was at ease with you at the helm.
Women, My Sisters, You INSPIRE ME!!!
Creatrixes bringing life to material UTTERLY blowing my mind. It started with a woman who reached for the thorns of a rose, another who thought a petal might be grand. Then, my dear Sisters shared pearls and amethyst, casting gemstones in the matrix of their creation. Symbolically lavishing glorious creative expression and attention to their Yoni. How excellently erotic is that?
Conversations moved gently and easily with the creative flow of energy moving around topics about how we call and see our Yoni's, hear our Yoni's reflected in a Lover's words and gaze, questioning the taboo, luxuriating in the freedom to claim each glorious Yoni as one's own Divinely Feminine creation with open-hearted vulnerability and authenticity between us. Together, we remember the power of healing through storytelling while sitting - as equals - in Circle.
I am in awe and without further words to describe sharing this deep healing with my Sisters. From here, I'll let the Yoni's speak for themselves.
I started painting with a neighbor in 2012 but wouldn't find the grace offered in the confines of a circle until years and muses later. Mandalas create a container for the unconscious to emerge often revealing details, premonitions, and varying perspectives out of view at the time of conception and creation. They offer us a deeply personal way to discover aspects of the psyche's hidden realms driving our patterns and behaviors so we may find freedom from the conditioned chaotic state of today.
A mandala I began not too long ago. It's name and meaning continue to swirl in the many layers and journeys of my Soul as the paint lingers between the unconscious, brush, paper, and time.
of pearls and bone
by: Jessica Ruth Allen