Femininity and Masculinity

All human beings posses both, the masculine and the feminine aspect – two contrasting forces that are drawn towards each other. The feminine aspect is charged with negative polarity, yin, that welcomes, draws towards herself all that she desires, whereas the masculine aspect is overflowing with positive polarity, yang, that righteously fuels a man to take action towards achieving his goals. The feminine aspect is bound to be more abundant in women, but present in men as well, while the masculine should prevail in men, but should also be found in women.

One look at the western societies tells us that the aforementioned structure has been shattered, since most people – both men and women – predominantly live in their masculine essence of action, action, action. This should not come as a surprise if you take into account our education, our upbringing and the values that were passed on from a few generations back. We have all been taught since very early on that striving, pushing it and making it happen is the way to get things done around here. Having no other model to look up to, us women took up the masculine dynamic, went out into the world, achieved … and got back home exhausted and needing to take care of the kids, home, and our partner.

While the masculine approach may well serve men in initiating and igniting their desires, it will only drain, wear out and bring women to their last legs. Funnily enough, as I was checking the synonyms for “exhausted” on the internet, the dictionary’s first example sentence for the word “tired” said: “She came home tired from work.” You don’t really believe it was a coincidence that she was tired, not him? If even dictionaries, written by men and women in our society, say that women are bound to come home tired from work, it must also be written in our collective consciousness that the feminine aspect was not designed to fit the masculine society’s tight schedule. Indeed, women are not meant to use up much energy and force in order to achieve, because we excel at attracting and accepting the energy that we have pulled towards us. And yes, we accept everything that comes our way, including the energies and outcomes we might not want. For instance, did you know that during a sexual intercourse the woman accepts into her literal body not only the man’s penis, but his emotional state with all the baggage as well? Everything we as women accept into our own energy field, into our own being keeps piling up in our wombs until our creative centre is brimming with feelings and beliefs that not necessarily serve us.

If we know that as women we will accept everything that comes our way, we can start now to be the judge of what’s coming. To be the judges of what’s coming, the magnificent creators of our own life experiences, we must learn how to live from the feminine.

But how?

By listening, not speaking. Now shhh; open your inner ear.

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On Being Real

If you have been following me at all up here, you know I’m taking this three-month course called Abundance Group, where we aim at developing our talents and gifts into abundance. It’s amazing. And it’s challenging to see that our acquired sense of self is often the jailer for all that we could be. That’s what I want to talk about today.

What I’ve come to notice is that I didn’t have any problems stating who I was. This is the question I’ve been dealing with fort he past decade:“Who am I, really?” And I’ve come to definitions and I’ve come to conclusions and I’ve come to internalize a set of beliefs about me that I hold dear to my heart and that make me feel right. For example, ever since I came to know the hippie movement from the late 1960’s in my early teens, I just knew: “Mom, I’m a hippie.” What got me about the hippies was their FREEDOM, but what made me stay was the prison that kept my mind believing: “It’s alright if I’m penniless, at least I’m free.” Excuse me, mind, but having a child and being penniless is no fun. Even the freedom, which was the reason that I signed up in the first place, turns to anxiety and rage when my son needs winter boots and I am in no way capable of buying a pair. I wasn’t, but luckily I always had family and friends who were. 

And then I started asking myself whether this was really who I was supposed to be? “Honestly, I’m here to be broke?”, I asked myself and paused.

The voice of the wise answered for me: “Well, if you’re buying this, I’m certainly not.” It was time to acquire a new sense of self. This sense of self made me describe myself as I did a few days ago.

I’m a woman and a mother who is aiming at balance of body, mind and soul. I am a researcher of life whose job is to find pleasure in every little step on the way. I am here to tell the truth about the way and I am here to be REAL.

Seeing the world that is fake and the people who fake in order to please or reach some sort of standards,  lights the fire on my way, because I’m here to question: “Whose standards?”. If you know the answer to this, right you are; if not, go deep inside and look for them for the answers always await until you come inside. We are our own standards and once we’ve caught a glimpse of ourselves, of our true light in being … that light is loyal enough to never let us go. Whatever we sense, or see, or feel, or hear, or touch inside – it’s all good. And if your mind can’t categorize that as good yet, know that that exact thing is a call for love; your love.

We are here to do pure magic, get it?

We are pure magic! From head to toe.

But in order to let the magic shine through, we must love and accept ourselves first. We have to come to terms with all of our pieces because none are better then others. None! Sure, we have come to accept the light and the dark, the up and the down, the left and the right, and yes, even the right and the wrong. But we have only come to know these because we live in a dualistic reality, where it’s easier to understand our different pieces as contrasts. There is no harm in that – as long as we also keep in mind that all of these contrasts can only apply to our particular viewpoints (that are unavoidably the products of our upbringing, education and experiences).

Try not to label your contrasts as right or wrong. If you do that, you will show the world only the pieces in you that you think are right and hide the rest. And that’s fake. And not only is it not REAL, but it will make the unloved, unappreciated pieces of you either sink in and hold a grudge – or (if you’re anything like me) rebel.

All of our pieces are right, because they are ours and because they are real and thus make us REAL. And if they’re showing you a part of yourself that you don’t like or try to ignore or deprive of love or starve to death … they are here because of that alone: to point the finger.

Today bathe the parts that you don’t accept in yourself with love. And let them be.

They make you REAL.

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Gotta Love Him, the Scorpio

Do you feel the Scorpio’s rule this year? It seems highly unlikely but this year, I felt immediately when the happy-go-lucky Libra set off and king of the shadow, Scorpio, took over. I know that because I started to feel more tension running through my veins than normally. That, and more visits to my shadows than usual.

My shadow emotion has got to be anger. It’s the first feeling I would get when something doesn’t go according to the plan. I’m not a particularly fearful human being, and I don’t get gloomy all that often – but I will get angry in no time. Anger is the one that’s using up the fire of my bright spirit – when I’m not tuned in. Into myself. Into my body and mind. When my head is calculating the earnings, the to-do list, the people I have to call, the articles I have to write … instead of noticing what’s here and now.

And what’s been here and now is my beautiful son, figuring out this world. This past week he didn’t go to kindergarten so we spent all of our days together all the time. For the first couple of days I didn’t even do my yoga or meditation, but when I saw where this has brought me (and consequently us) I quickly called a halt to the absence of inner-goddess-time. I need this time as I do my oxygen to stay alive – and I took that time as I do my oxygen … even if he regularly uses my downward dog for a bridge to climb under, and even if I use a non-harming cartoon with no commercials to relax into a meditation. Well, it’s called life!

So yeah, it’s been wackadoodle around here. But I chose it because I wanted to see how far along am I in managing my roles as a woman, mother, mompreneur, single parent and constant teacher and student thingy – at the same time. What?! I’m getting better, though. My technique?  Try to remember as often as I can that:

  1. Life is not as serious as I tend to think of it. So laugh a little. Or a lot. Actually … don’t ever stop.
  2. All is good because I’m exactly where I need to be … I just need to come out of my head and notice where I’m being.

So even though I have had to try much harder to accept life’s situations with laughter, rather then with anger, I’m still here, bolder and brighter. And you know what?

There is nowhere else I’d rather be because

there is no skin that would better fit me.

I walking the feminine journey a step at a time

never forgetting that whatever is here to chew –

it’s fine, because it’s mine.

I’m focused on not forgetting that I’m here to shine,

and to turn all of the worldly things into my shrine.

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You’re Already There

Today was a good reminder that I don’t have to get anywhere – because I’m already there. I used to live in a very conditional state of mind where I would have to be thinner in order to go out in high school, wiser in order to start exposing my truth and my beliefs, older in order to feel better in my own skin or even calmer in order to call my attempts at trance – meditation. Who said that?

Isn’t it time to expose my truth when I feel that aching feeling in my chest and I know the words are going to rip me open if I don’t speak or write or sing them out immediately? Isn’t meditation supposed to be about accepting the state I’m in, no matter what that might be?

Yesterday me and Svarun went for a lovely autumn walk with my best friend and her baby boy. After a while of walking, Svarun starts asking when we are going get “there”. My friend answers: “Don’t worry, we’re already there.”

He looks at me, puzzled, and I confirm. Sure, we’re already there.

We’re right in this moment where we need to have this exact experience we’re having. And yes, we might feel tense, we might be overflowed with chores and calls, and we might need a lot of energy to squeeze that smile out instead of a hiss, but we’re here for a reason. The reason is to remember what keeps us going at all times and always act with respect upon it.

In that split second that you have, choose respect. Embrace your tension, your sadness, your anger, your fear, your disappointment, your impatience … but choose respect.

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I am Awake

I’m awake on the eve of 19th of October, just as I was awake exactly four years ago. Back then, I had just been awakened by labor contractions, fortelling my son was about to come earthside. I went to bed really late because I went on a late night walk to watch the starts, selected the music that would sway our forcoming birth, took a long hot bath and a cup of cocoa afterwards. I went to bed peaceful. After about half an hour of so-called sleep, I woke up in the midst of what I would only later realize was a full blown contraction. In a haze I recalled waking up with contractions many times that night, so I decided it was no use to pursue lying in bed. I sat on the ball and started circling with my hips, being as present as I could, every time I would sense the familiar rushes at the bottom of my henna-tattoo-ed belly.

I could swear I felt the exact same contraction in my womb just as I thought about those rushes four years ago. Sure, it’s the first day of my period, but now again I have found myself to be birthing something into this world yet again; I’m baking a cake for my son’s kindergarten birthday celebration. It’s the second one I’m making because the first one turned out watery enough to be called – a pudding.

Now, I really don’t like late nights. They get me every time, honestly. It was late when I started, but when I realized the pudding thingy was not going to cut it, I almost felt the need to cry. Wait, I wholly truly did. And the need to feel sorry for myself kept creeping in: »Oh, man. It’s the first day of my period, the time when I should be resting, and I’m not even going to get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow I’m going to be out and about the whole day and why do I always do this to myself on my period, it’s always the same …«

But then I realized what I was doing. I stood up. I thought about my son. I thought about how much I wanted him to have a surprise cake for his birthday. So I looked up, and prayed. I prayed to the goddess to give me the strenght to pull this off. And I sat down in my car, started it and drove to my parent’s house a few miles away to pick up the eggs that I need to make the cake (try one was a vegan experiment that failed).

I came back, bursting with energy and commitment. And I noticed it. And I thanked it. And I meant it. And I trusted her when she said I had made the right decision. And I trust her when she says that this is only the start of the best day ever.

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Discipline

I have long decided to invite more discipline into my life. Correction: I have long decided to invite more discipline into my working life. Being a mother, that means those five to six hours in the morning and early afternoon while Svarun is in kindergarten. Being a mompreneur (a mother who is an entrepreneur), that has meant: all day every day.

It’s utopian to think that I’m going to be able to do all that I want/ should/ must/ desire in a mere few hours, especially because … well, I’m a woman. I don’t do things linear; I do a little bit of this here, and a little bit of that there, and then return to this, and then continue that bit over there. Just as I’m typing this, the granola is in the oven and washed clothes can’t wait to hang out in the balcony in this hot, orange, autumn sun. But being a woman, I also posses a lot of creativity that just wants to see the light of the day. However, being a woman alone does not make me highly chaotic; what makes me such is thinking that discipline would bore me to tears.

I’m willing to shift this now.

I’m willing to see things differently.

If we take a look at the word discipline, it shares the root with the word disciple. I’m not going to go into some religious lagacy, but just consider the meaning of the word disciple or bhakta, which is how the same person is called in Hare Krishna tradition. A disciple is someone who has surrendered his will to the coach.

For me, the coach is myself … or rather the part of myself I have yet not named, but it’s a she. She is the divine feminine that is waking up inside of me. She is my primal nature; she is Nature itself. Her gift is to find wisdom within her cycles; her gift is to descend and ascend, and give to the world all the love and beauty and softness she has gathered along the way. And what she needs in order to do all of that is … inspiration.

My idea of discipline? Surrendering to the inner guidance and feed it well with a lot of inspiration.

Again, my idea of discipline? Every day I take time for things that inspire me; I take time form y yoga and meditation, I take time form my barefoot walk, I take time to spend in Nature, and as of today … I take time for my kitchen playtime. That means I take time for the new app I’ve created, called Igralnica Kuhalnica in Slovene (but coming in English as well) and for sheer plain experimenting in the kitchen. When I’m throwing things together I fill like a kid again, wide eyed, barely managing to wait what’s going to … become.

That way, I’m becoming anew every second of every day. And that, my friends, is a gift.

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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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