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Sacred Sassy Heroine: This is the everyday goddess within each woman. It is she who harnesses the unfeigned feminine energy that makes you divine. She embraces all-she-is and struts it like she means it. Today is the full moon. This cosmic event serves as a reminder to crack out of your proper exoskeleton and reconnect with the howling sister within. She is sacred. She is sassy. She is YOU. And she is a Heroine.
Peace out my pretties.
It’s one of those crazy full moon primal crying fits, with me pounding the bed, screaming into the pillow, full blown lunatic style. Hum drum questions like, “What’s wrong?” don’t stand a chance here. They wither in the face of my menstrual mania, dodging the hailstorm of reasonable answers, each one hitting harder than the next, but never absolving the questions.
So I dial it down. What actually is going on here? Zooming in past the cosmic, timeless questions like, “Where do we come from? Why are we here?” Traveling swiftly by global crisis, hunger, poverty, elite banking family corruption. Passing by the deplorable wake of the military industrial complex, the truth of my own country funding ISIS, the circus of presidential goonery. Nope it’s not even the familial rhetoric and drama, it’s even smaller that. It’s right here inside me. Looks a scrappy, scared poem of sorts.
I ache for someone to meet me here
In this exact and precise pain.
Help hold it
Without making it insignificant.
Don’t remind me to count my fucking blessings.
Climb into this heartache
Feel with me.
Cry. Sob. Rage.
Grieve for the losses.
Wonder what went wrong.
Understand how hard I love.
Hang out in this limbo of no right answers
Lay down in this disgusting puddle of shame and failure.
Ask what it’s all for.
Feel what it means to be the backbone.
Grunt under the weight
Of well kept secrets.
Unpack with me
The pressures, indiscretions, and muted advice.
Be here with me someone. Anyone?
You can’t know my pain.
Each of us is shackled with our own.
Well apparently that was the shit that needed to come out before all the other embryonic ideas scratched out on napkins and journals could gestate.
I’m changing again, rapidly being pulled back into quiet restructuring. Mega metamorphosis. My decade long exhale has been rich with exaltation, rowdy irreverence, and loud fuck perfects. I have danced on stages and in ballrooms, married, divorced and married again, led and fed the crowds my rebellious rendering of what felt significant and worthy, and I have faithfully wrote my full moon love letters to you year after year now. As much as my ego wants to argue and clutch the spotlight, my heart knows a curtain call when she feels one.
I see the light fading, I know better than to fight this death. We die a thousand deaths in just one lifetime. It will only hurt if I struggle. The petals of this blossom are fast falling and I want only to bow in humble gratitude. I thank your gorgeous eyeballs for reading my diatribes, your sexy lil ears for listening to my rants and wisdom, but most of all your big juicy heart for feeling a little bit of me. I am honored to have had this platform, an altar on which to place my words.
For now I stand before you empty, confused, but so damn clear, imploding, turning to dust, a mere wisp of smoke. I don’t know what the inhale will look like.
It feels like coming home from the party of life, taking of my dress, heels, hose, wiping off my makeup and slipping my sweats on. Maybe I’ll learn a new language, binge on Netflix, write a book, remodel my barbershop, learn to make cheese, build my tiny home, head to South Africa, I really don’t know.
I feel Mystery whispering to me, calling me down deep. I must go.
Be true to yourself my beloved Heroines. And as always…Fuck Perfect!
Until we meet again, Love. L.O.V.E. just LOVE!
We’d love to hear from YOU…
Do you feel like you need to move onto something new in your life, or are you in the right place right now? If you’re moving on, what phase are you moving into? Leave your answer in the comments below!