The world of spirituality is a weird place.
I first found my way into a spiritual life through the divine feminine – a path full with flow, surrender, allowing, and receiving. That shit felt great, and I leaned way in. I fell into the river of femininity and flowed right along, allowing and being soft as hell.
And then I began trauma work.
Healing from a trauma is no joke, and it’s not soft. It’s not flowy, it’s not delicate, and it can’t be done whilst floating in a river of divinity. At least, that hasn’t been my path.
My path has involved hiding under a rock, trying to crush myself with the rock, and then….. unfurling. Anger that had to be pulled up from a deep well. Fighting, both myself and the trauma. Horror when I realized that I’d used my divine femininity as an excuse to protect and excuse my abuser. Anger that spilled over and flooded my whole being, that at once scared me and felt something like….
It’s ok to be a warrior. In fact, I’m going to say it’s necessary. For a long time I laid down and allowed and surrendered and that’s all I did. Learning to fight and feel anger and rage and allowing those things- that has been a whole new experience. It’s a merging of the divine feminine and something new and delicious… the divine masculine. There is divinity in anger, and warriors can be noble creatures. They can fight for beautiful things like love, and humanity, and their struggle makes room for that softness after the storm.
I am a warrior. I don’t lay down anymore or float passively along. I’m fighting, and it’s messy and clumsy and I don’t quite know what I’m doing, but I know it’s divine work that needs to be done. I’m owning it, and allowing this masculinity to find it’s place among the feminine. Because without the banks, the river has nowhere to flow.