Who Knew? Who Knew?

This picture of me was taken about seven years ago...I'd just caught the biggest fish I ever caught...in fact...I could barely hold it up and contain my joy at the same time. I didn't realize then that this beautiful red snapper (as we call them around here) had to be eighty years old or more to be so big.

Last fall I was at a place in my life where the phrase Vessel of Peace was light at the end of a tunnel. I followed the link and discovered Lynda Terry creator of the Vessels of Peace ( http://vesselsofpeace.com/ )was holding monthly meditations. After joining one guided meditation led by Lynda the creator of the Vessels of Peace concept, I was smitten. Unfamiliar with Eastern meditation practices I found the language, concepts and practices beautiful.

One of the meditations, called the 11 Intentions is an opportunity to honour and receive the transformative powers of Shakti, the Divine Feminine Energy, I honour and receive the peaceful knowing of Sophia, Divine Wisdom, the nurturing acceptance of Mary, Divine Love, the sacred flame of Hestia, Divine Sanctuary, the healing kindness of Kwan Yin, Divine Compassion, the steady courage of Kali Durga, Divine Strength, the generosity of Lakshmi, Divine Abundance, the natural rhythms of Gaia, Divine Harmony, the inspiration of Saraswati, Divine Creativity, and the inner stillness of Sige, Divine Silence. I honour and receive the Divine Feminine in all her Infinite forms. May her grace flowing through me uplift and transform the world.

An outgrowth of the Vessels of Peace work is the Doulas of Peace meditations being held for nine months on weekly basis on Sunday evenings. I welcomed whatever lessons would show up for me during this commitment. When, during a Doulas meditation I found myself dancing in spirit with an ostracized aspect of my feminine self as represented by my family of origin feminine triumvirate of Grandmother, Mother and Sister, I was joyous.

After that joining I turned to the ten faces of the Divine Feminine to name the aspects I had danced with. None of the names or their descriptive energies resonated with the energy I knew these women to be.

Grandma Annie didn’t like me; she said I knew too much. Annie was raised at the turn of the last century in a Dutch Roman Catholic Orphanage where she experienced horrible abuses. Mom was as incapable of nurturing as Annie so I, as the oldest of six children grew into a care giving role that saw my youngest sibling call me Mom two when I was ten years old. This was ample fodder for power struggles I didn’t ken and a jealousy from Mother as I matured that I didn’t understand either. Mother called me a bitch when I was still young enough to have to look up the definition in a dictionary; a female dog. I liked dogs. My sister was the youngest child who called me Mom two. She was the first girl after four boy children and she was Mom’s favoured child. When I ran away at fifteen to save my own life I abandoned, unbeknownst to me, my sister to our Mother. Mom told my seven year old sister that I left because I didn’t love her. My sister grew to be blindly jealous of me. Unto death I had shunned each of them as first class bitches.

I need to be clear about what the word bitch represents to me, what the word has come to mean. Through the course of our lives as girls and women we are either good girls according to someone else’s definition of good (consensual reality) or are labeled bitch. It is considered a female characteristic although men are as capable of bitchiness as women. It is always a derogatory term used as noun, adjective or verb. It is used to describe someone who is stubborn and enjoying it. It is used when a female speaks her mind in a way that doesn’t fit the “good girl” bill. A bitch is likely mean and an aggressive hot and cold tease sexually. A bitch is being accused of being ungrateful. Some among women are called a bitch more often than others. There is often a lot of pain associated with the word.

As a girl, a teenager, and a mother I denied their examples of the feminine with all my heart. I told myself there was another way. I knew with great conviction from a very young age that we had only to be kinder to ourselves and each other for the world to be a better place. When as a young Mother I discovered that I was being verbally and physically abusive with my children I was shocked. It took time to realize that I couldn’t give what I didn’t have. Where I had little to no self love I had truckloads of anger. Slowly, slowly I learned that to act lovingly with oneself was not selfish. I replaced the destructive self talk with Louise Hayes mantra “I LOVE AND APPROVE OF MYSELF”. I faked it until I made it. I adopted the ways of the First People around my Moontime. I have also digressed.

A few weeks after letting go of the question about what kind of feminine energy I had invited in I heard an answer while listening to myself respond to a young woman’s question. To paraphrase, she asked why her Mother lived without a voice, a say in her own life. I prefaced by saying, I/We need, to a certain extent, define ourselves within our own cultural paradigms, and then I said…”You’re Mother needs to take back her Bitch. No more words were necessary. It was as if several hours of conversation about what that statement meant hovered in the air between us. My young friend admitted she needed to do the same.

As I/we age and or move through the ascension process there is less and less grey area to play within; the aspects of Oneself, within and without that I/we have obediently tried to avoid will no longer be denied. Accepting Divine Bitch energy into my life through the front door instead of forcing Her to sneak in through the back has felt awkward. She refuses to enter quietly; where She/I see/hear situations that do not work for the good of the whole I can no longer hold my tongue. I’ve discovered that my Bitch has a loving bristly side that will not be put off, very like a dog.