On this sixth month of quarantine season, I am in three regular meetings – weekend ballet lessons, a four-part session on freeing your voice with a Greek guru who can sing in overtones like magic and, lastly and fabulously, a 3-month weekly gathering with a group of Goddesses who talk about Goddess-y things. My feminine energy is PUMPED UP, y’all.
I recently revisited my entry from December last year, Menstruation Celebration. I was at the beginning of getting tuned into my feminine cycles. Understanding my seasons and how to tune into my energy throughout my flow has been game-changing. I have been on an exciting new adventure month after month, week after week, this set of days until the next.
My monthly cycles have become gift offerings and the turnaround has been unbelievable. I am at the end of my Winter week right now, and this is always my favorite week. I relish the cozy in it, the chance to excuse myself from extra efforts and stay in – way, way in, deeper than lockdown requirements – and sit and lie with my inner systems for days, listening to my body’s deepest desires and learning what we wish to intend next, and in which way we wish to grow. I pick theme to start each cycle with, what I hope to seed and grow and nurture for the next 28 days, and I have now gone through many.
All that it takes is for me to hold sacred the stillness required in those first seven days of my flow and I get to tune in to what I need for myself so that I can grow in the direction I am meant to grow into.
This next cycle will be about “Sense and Space” and I am excited for new discoveries!
But the real headliner for this entry? MY PMS SYMPTOMS HAVE ALL COMPLETELY GONE!
Autumn (week 4, the PMS season) gave me a lot of difficulty in my recent adult years. Not so much because of the bloating and the bad skin, but because of the flatulent inner demons screaming from the canals of my emotional existence and threatening to wreak havoc on all my close encounters and intimate relationships. And often succeeding. All in a matter of three to five days.
But somehow, like sorcery, understanding what is about to come and respecting myself for what it is that my body goes through has completely tamed my strange persistent beasts. All it took was to listen and be accepting and kinder to myself.
Paying attention when Autumn arrives, I focus all my energies on me and me alone. I’m lonely? That’s okay, let’s stretch and put on oils and get a good shower and indulge in extra dessert. I’m always hungry and I’m getting fatter? That’s fine. What do I want to eat now? Like, really want to eat. What will make my tummy sing? I’ll have it. My body can adjust back to leanness later during my more heated up and energetic seasons. I feel like crying or lashing out? Best to disconnect from the world for now and take some solo time to figure out my feelings. Sure, I can cry. I can cry hard. Does life feel extra difficult? It really sometimes is, so slow down. Slow way, way down. To the point of stillness. It’s really okay. Just breathe, nothing more is required. For now.
Fight of the Fall
In the real seasonal world, as far as immediate aesthetics are concerned, autumn has always been my favorite. Of course, we don’t have this season in my tropical country, and maybe that’s what makes it more enchanting to me, even more so than the brilliant flowers of a bursting Spring. Just to see even pictures of the fiery-lined landscapes of the cold climate gives such an impacting thrill to the senses.
*cue in falling leaves of autumn*
To be immersed in those singing barricades of yellows and oranges and maple browns and reds awaken in us a recognition of the passions of the Earth. We see beauty in the face of change. The fire in the furnace. A richness coloring the forsakenness. The audacity of abandon. A soaring flight in the face of surrender. A willfull fight for final basking in the light. The climactic peak at death. Fireworks held at a funeral. The sensation of the fall.
What is nature fighting for?
This leads me to the question: what is my body fighting for?
I think of how natural it feels to quiet myself and create the magic dust for my intentions during the cozy afternoons of Winter, and the thrill of sharing all the magic I can give during Spring and Summer. What is it about the fires of Autumn that threaten to burn me and hold me ablaze? How do you learn to sit by the fire with a cup of hot chocolate in hand instead of burning yourself? If nature is able to be creative about it, how can I do the same?
Letting leaves fall
Humans have a difficult time letting go. We can be a clingy, sentimental, possessive bunch and we have an obsession with ownership. Not like nature. Nature thinks nothing of change and letting go. The leaves are attached to the stems only until it is time to grow a new leaf. The worm works in the soil only to be eaten by a bird that is to be killed by a cat and the whole of domestic life moves forward without hesitation.
But nothing is ever lost, only always lived.
The trees set themselves on fire not to cry for help or try to change directions or defend themselves from what is inevitable. They are on fire to make a celebration of their transition, and to show the world that constant creation is for the courageous.
I realized I have been holding on to my intentions. Getting attached. After all, they are so wonderful to me, like flower-bearing plants giving fresh varieties to my days and calling in the birds and the bees. Every month, the intention that I choose to seed grows into beautiful and magnanimous proportions, giving me so much truth, and will, and proofs of life and joy and discovery. I have had such success in my 30-day projects of “Independence,” “Nurture,” “Surrender,” and I know there is so much more to come.
So when Autumn arrives, this is when I must learn to let go of my dedicated intention for one period and move on to the next.
This is why I feel a strong sense of conflict, resistance, pressure. Autumn is all about letting go, no matter how beautiful any of it is, or ever once was. Autumn is about wondering what more could be waiting, and being wise enough to believe that there is more to come. Autumn is about hope, faith, acceptance, and all the essential oils necessary to propel the movement and flow of our emotional energies forward. It is about resilience and rebirth. Desire and deliberateness. It is, fantastically, about both change and constancy – these are all the contrasting colors of Autumn that we see and love.
Fire transforms. Fire symbolizes rite of passage. Fire gives movement to all of creation and allows alchemy. To allow ourselves to be set on fire is to allow constant renewal.
And all we have to do is let go.
When I was a less aware of myself, the onset of my PMS – no matter how normal and expected and monthly it was – always caught me off guard and always left me bruised, maimed and helplessly putting out different accidental fires in its wake. Awareness gave way to being more prepared and present for myself. Nowadays, when the transition into comes, I can clearly identify the sudden change of weather within me. I even feel a distinct shift in my gut, a contraction. Like my organs are all starting to draw in, clenching their fists, waiting for who will punch first. I remind my body to relax, assure it that no one’s out to get it, focus on breathing and clearing and releasing tension. And I know that whatever outside condition I experience – an insensitive partner, an irritating friend, rain clouds, a spilt cup of coffee that is trying to destroy my life – they are created from my own state of contraction and resistance. A mirror, if you will.
But to calm something down requires much more understanding of the root causes, just as the courage to create something out of restrictions comes only when we are able to recognize how trapped we are and seeing that there is nowhere else to go but up.
This is where courage and the nature of our creativity come together. We root ourselves down to be able to rise up and above. The fire is the condition, the physical outer aspect of things beyond our control, just like the condition of snow, rainfall, heat and spring allergens in the air. No matter the season we are in, our inner tilling is our constant. We need to be courageous to allow ourselves to build, create and explore upon, around and within all that is provided us in the present. Our tree contains all our resources. This tree has within it all it needs to survive. Let it be known that it has given what it could give in the days that passed, and it is working on giving more in the days to come. Just wait. All the good and the bad come to pass, but it is in the transition that we find what always remains within us.
Let dragons fly
I signed up for this 3-month gathering of women called “When She Comes – An emergence of the Goddess Within Through Dance and Song” under Daloy Dance Company‘s Ea Torrado. We have had three sessions and all participants are new acquaintances, but every Friday night has quickly become this badass stronghold of feminine vulnerability, openness, surrender and such honest strength. It’s insane how empowered we’ve all felt in each other’s virtual presence and how we all resonate with one another.
We just finished a session now and it was, most appropriately, Dragon night. (Our first animal was the Wolf and the last one was a Lion.)
Since I just went through both my Winter (this is becoming very Game of Thrones haha) AND new moon rituals, I just literally and metaphysically burned some stuff up. And Ea talking about this Dragon – who strongly represented an image of the inner child for me – burning down villages of people, paths and ideas resonated a lot with where exactly I am in the moment. I decided that for this cycle of my period and the new moon, I would not only burn a list of things that no longer serve me. I decided to burn my entire self.
Yup, read that right, I burned my entire old thought-constructed self down. Because why not if you have the ability to go through fire?
Synchronicity is so damn hot. (Our playlist here was pretty hot, too.)
I did burn down a village. I burned mine. The ladies also talked about not being able to possess anyone. And I have decided that I do not possess my very own journey, either. I do not possess any knowledge as to where I am headed. And if I were to allow myself to become completely who I am meant to become, I must be able to burn in the fire and know I will rise again.