It is happening again...

Uncategorized Sep 30, 2019


Will you remember?
"It is happening again" she said.

"I feel it within me, expanding, and I don’t know what to do."

The awakening.

The will to dance, to move her hips in unspeakable ways.

The aliveness.

The shame that she felt burning hot in her throat.

The undoing of thousands of years, in an instant, a choice.

The one that says "Welcome."

And beckons the Serpent to swallow her whole.

She who no longer fears death can then be initiated into the deeper mysteries of the Serpent Path — the deep shamanic power, the transmutation abilities, and the raw and primal sexual awareness that comes with it.

The untamable manifestation.

Thousands of years ago, they saw our golden arm bands, and they called us whores.

"Prostituting" ourselves for God, in Sacredness. A sacrament. A holy offering, a disruptive essence, and through-line straight to the Wild Mother, calling us from deep in our bones.

To be so at odds with a culture, as an assignment, as an undeniable path, was to live forever on the edge.

And so the Serpent Woman does, live forever on the edge. As an edge -walker. As a seer. As She Who Knows, beyond all Knowing.

She does not play at superficialities. She does not care for diminishment. She does not sing quietly. She does not always speak sweetly. She does not fear her body, her blood, her desire, her perfect humanity, undone in the face of the Great Spirit.

And so -

Relentlessly, they stoned us. Shamed us. Burned us alive.

[Later, of course, they would also call us Witches]

Yet, their husbands still came to us.

And often - their wives.

Feeling the rising within, believing they were possessed, they came to us.

It was one of the many times when we knew to take our magic underground.

And still, it lives.

When the Serpent Woman comes fully into form, it will shake loose all of the bullshit programming at the core of the Feminine Condition in our "Modern World".

How can she dress like that? Move like that? Live like that?

How dare she be so alive?

I must hide my husband.

I must hide myself.

I must hide.

I must hide.

I must hide.

This is what the parasite so deeply planted in consciousness speaks, with its hunger to control. To subdue. To prevent the awakening, the true unfolding, the arising, the Christos.

We are not just Priestesses of the Rose. Many of us walk and dance with the Mother through the deeper layers of death and awareness.

The sexual mysteries are not for those who would exploit or misuse them [and of course, many have tried to — many have succeeded].

She who walks in mastery, with ability to sing to the cobra, to call forth the primal power of all that it is, to let it move her, dance her, and yes, even speak her, poses a threat.

She poses a threat to every ounce of shame that has ever lived in your body.

A glance from her might dissolve all that wishes to eat you alive, if you would allow it.

And those who know they walk in this medicine, will simply know.

And through a series of auspicious events, that knowing will deepen.

Culminating in peak experiences of awakening, ever-undulating, just like your spine wishes to.

Would you unbind yourself and set yourself free?

When you learn to writhe for and with the Divine, and what this really means, not what it has been "deemed to mean" —

When you cast out the true Demon which is shame, which is repression, which is separation from the Self, from something so Sacred and Holy as your Wild Life Force —

You walk through the fire.

You sing to the fire.

You no longer fear the fire.

For you have become the fire.

Come hither, Divine One.



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