I laid down on the wet sand, with my belly touching the ground and closing the eyes, feeling my head being supported by Her. Surrendering and passing all of the weight of my body onto Her, letting go of the strength, letting go of the tension that’s been burdening my back and chest for days and weeks on end.
At the first moment, the light sensation of floating in nothingness terrified me - unused to walk around with my guards down and my fists relaxed and open, the feeling of pulsing expansiveness scared the shit out of me. Surrender. I took a breath in, held it for a few moments and then let it all out through my mouth, hearing the sound of profound relief coming out.
I felt her embracing the flesh of my body from underneath, holding me in her mothering arms and whispering loving words in the language of wind and oceanwaves. My body started to get really warm and I felt energy flowing to its center, forming a ball of burning red light inside my uterus. I couldn’t ignore it no more. The pain I’ve been feeling and trying to numb, avoid and suppress was calling out for my attention, asking me to dive in, to take a look and drink at its well of ancient feminine wisdom.
As I entered the field it exploded and overflooded all of my body. I could feel the pain of generations and generations of women running through my legs and arms, I could hear their cries and screams in my head and above all - I could feel their strength. The strength that they were so attached to, that they let guide them towards suppression and disowning their feminine powers in order to blend in more smoothly into the world dominated by the masculine.
Lifetimes and lifetimes of shame and unacknowledged pain accumulated within my womb, testing me if I’ll continue to hold onto my masculine side, fighting and being strong in the way the patriarchal society taught us to be strong, denying my softness, my womanhood and the richness of my intuitive feminine nature. Hot tears started to run down my face, the well was open and I felt like it would never stop pouring out. There was just so much that had to be released.
So I let it all go, I surrendered to the waves of excruciating pain, feeling it cut through each of my organs and coming out in warm salty drops that were drank by the sand, going back to Her. And in that moment, I knew I wasn’t alone, I felt her soaking up my pain, sucking it out of my body, clearing those ancestral wounds as I permitted Her to do so. Thank you for being strong. I heard Her say. Strong? I replied. I am crying here like a pussy, I am not being strong at all.
Then it came to me as clear as ever: this is the Strength. The real Strength that comes from faith in being truly supported, that reveals itself once we let go of the attachment to the strength as the Ego and our society define it.
There is a strength and then there is a Strength.
I found out that the second one comes in when we release the hold of the first one, when we fully step in what is and stop disowning the parts that make us feel at unease and that make us question the construct of the identity we grew addicted to. When we finally allow ourselves to shed into pieces, fall humbly on the ground and accept that we are out of resources, that all of the external entities we brought inside to solidify the illusion of safety and certainty, that all of them failed miserably at the job we expected them to do... then we find ourselves face to face with it. Falling back down into the arms of the Universal Mother and sinking into the real Strength that has been waiting for our visit since the beginning.