Renewal

This moon’s cycle is all about Renewal. Renewal of Trust.

Yesterday I spiralled down to the place where I felt hopeless. Is everything I used to believe a lie? Is this the kind of world where I want to raise my son? I went to bed with my mouth full of bitter ash and I had a hard time sleeping with all these pictures running through my mind. I didn’t want to feel what I felt but I knew I had to feel it. Once a month I allow myself to take the pains of the world as my own; I drown myself in the scars and sink deep … only to rise again stronger and lighter then before.

Today I rose again. I was blessed with time and space for me, as my boys were away. I was working on an inspiring project that I’m preparing for all of you, guys. Reminding myself of what I stand for, what I believe in, and what I praise and preach towards instilled in me a new sense of Trust. Trust into the World that I doubted yesterday. Trust into My World. This meant: no, I didn’t feel like cooking. I felt the way I feel every menstruation, and it is to spiral down, cuddle up and dig, dig. No, I didn’t feel like cooking, but instilled with the new sense of Trust into the world that wants to caress us … I knew we would be fed.

So I finished work, and went for a ten minute barefoot walk on my meadow before picking my boys. I followed the sun’s invitation and cuddled up with golden grass beneath the top of the hill, where the Bora couldn’t get me, and soaked in the last autumn rays … when my mother called. She seemed excited to invite us all for dinner because she was blessed with beginner’s luck to find three big mushrooms on a walk through the woods.

Mushroom pasta for dinner? Thank you, heavens, for guarding my descent to renew my Belief into the world.

I knew we would be fed. And I knew, even in the darkest hour, when I had trouble sleeping, that everything would be okay. Everything is always okay, if there’s Trust in the okay. It’s the same kind of Trust that the story will come; even if it is 8 p.m., when I slowly unplug myself from the World.

If I Trust that there is a story to come, the story will come.

If I Trust that everything will be okay, everything is always okay. The question is … are we okay with the okay, or are we aiming at something else?

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I am Enough

I’m sitting on Svarun’s bathroom step stool (you know the little steps they make for children to reach bathroom sink) while the computer is resting on our bamboo laundry hamper, dancing throughout my typing. I just washed my hair, something I was looking forward throughout the day, and I love how the water is freely dripping on my back and ass. I’m sitting here because I have nowhere else to go; namely, the floor in the rest of the flat is still wet from cleaning. I cleaned the entire flat because if there’s something I know about myself it’s that I like to return to a fresh and tidy home. So I decided to make myself happy. I’m the first one to take care of that. It’s just me after all.

During the day while I was preparing vegan treats to sell at a weekend festival here in Slovenia, I felt really good … but confused. I had this conversation in the morning with my friend and we were talking about running a business and making in happen and while it left me inspired for a while, it all melted down into these existential questions like “who am I” and “what is real” and “do I have to pick one thing to be, or can I immerse into everything that my heart desires”. I liked the existential nature of the questions I was asking myself because I think that once in a blue moon (or rather every moon) it’s good to redefine ourselves. Like, from head to toe. That’s one of the qualities of the darkness; of digging deep into oneself.

Who am I, then?

My friend Attila from Arambol’s jungle in India sums it up perfectly, when he says: “When we switch off the mobile and all the information and the news, suddenly it’s awakening by itself. It’s what we are all dreaming of, to be nobody again – it means ourselves, not this or that.” In the darkness, the etiquettes that we’ve attached to ourselves dissolve and what is left is what we really are.

What I learned today, is that I’m enough. I’m enough to do all the work that I need to do. I’m enough to go to a festival alone with my son. I’m enough to keep my son company. I’m enough to set up a tent, think of all we’re going to eat in the following days. I’m enough to do it all by myself.

Mind you, I didn’t know this before. I was always taught that a woman, let alone a mother, needs a man to help her out, so I gladly accepted the help that was lying around. I had been counting on it, so it always came. But with time I’ve learned that by accepting people’s help to do just about everything, I was disempowering myself. When I would break up with my boyfriend for the hundredth time, I’d call a friend because I couldn’t handle my emotions; when I would need to pay a bill, I’d call my father to do it for me because I couldn’t do it via the internet but didn’t feel like going to the post office to do it physically. The list goes on. And while I’m not saying it’s bad to ask for help or accept it when offered, I am saying: don’t count on it. The only person I can count on is myself. And this I’m not saying with my a mouth full of bitter ash of disappointment, but with pride and a full heart that knows – I am enough.

It’s always just me … which I mean in the most empowering way possible.

Go girl!

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Light and Dark

Life is a balance of light and dark. Everyone gets to choose how much of each he’s willing to put up with … until he or she realizes that what we call dark is really just a cry for more light.

I have always been into experimenting with the darkness. I was drawn to people with a certain shadow quality that I wanted to … experience. I fell in love with boys and men with addictive patterns of damaging themselves because I wanted to … observe it. And I was delving deep into my insecurities, fears, anger. Although I was very intrigued by the darkness, I never feared it. It thought that darkness was just a good place to hide, and so I wanted to lift the veil for everyone, including me, to come out – shamelessly, painlessly, fearlessly. I learned the hard way that I couldn’t lift the veil for others; it’s not mine to lift. That was then. That was me as a Maiden.

Now, as a woman, I came to know that darkness is not just a good place to hide, it’s also a good place to rest, to restore, to meditate, to dream, and to be. It’s a good place. As we speak I’m sinking into my menstrual mode, the time of truth. The time to face my darkness and my light; to face what tools I’ve got in my hands to work with. Menstruation is the time of barren winter fields, the time of Death. I’m lifting the veil of that, which the rest of the month doesn’t get to see.

I said that darkness was just a cry for more light. We are the ones to shine that light. Darkness is a place where your fears reside, but when you shine your light of truth upon them, they disappear. The same way as a dark room is no longer dark when you turn on the light.

That is what happens during our menstruation. We delve deep into the underworld to nest the fears and once ready, we shine the light of understanding, of experience, of knowing upon them and they become transformed. It’s called alchemy and it’s what’s calling me to face it.

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