From: I sit listening to the wind: 5

~ by Judith Duerk ~

How might your life have been different if, once as you sat in the darkness, suffering the most piercing shame for simply being yourself…you had sensed a presence nearby, sitting quietly in the shadows attending you…a forgiving Feminine presence?

If you had felt such a flow of compassion from that ancient presence…that you could begin to accept your flaws, even your gravest faults? And deeply comforted in the flow of that compassion, you were able, at last, to embrace your own woundedness.

How might your life be different?

How might your life have been different if, through the years, you had felt that there would finally be time enough for you?If, very early one morning…as you sat at the window seat and watched a silvery mist slowly rise from the meadow…you heard, far off in the distance, the cry of the wild geese?

And you remembered the first time you had heard that cry, many years before…with a chill up the back of your neck? And that you had known, even then, that the haunting, primordial cry…was the call of the ancient Feminine returning?

How might your life be different?

How might your life have been different if, one morning in the earliest springtime, something had drawn you to the woods? And in the cool mist, you had seen women of all ages, from every epoch in history, waiting in the stillness.And you had knelt among them…had heard the trembling in the voices of the older women as they spoke of preparation, of individual sacrifice…of woman offering out of her own uniqueness, her suffering, her devotion. And if, as you listened, you had a glimmer of hope that your work to develop yourself might make a tiny difference…help heal an ancient Archetype…restore a longed-for balance in the greater cosmos.

And you felt a sense of wonder, knowing that each woman kneeling there was considering inside herself what her offering would be.