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Intuition rises, a flor de piel

By: Marjory Mejia

A flor de piel awakens this desire to rise with the New Moon.
Women are taught to distrust their feelings, their emotions. Men are taught to completely suppress them and our culture judges both for any hint of this feminine realm alive in them. After all, we are told these feelings and emotions are illogical, imaginary, reactionary, unreal, source of trouble. And yet if we leave these parts perfectly tucked away, oppressed, we deny ourselves and can’t become WHOLE.

The unyielding ways of patriarchy are crumbling. They are inflexible and can’t bear the weight of truth. The gift of its age is really a burden that dulls and numbs our inner knowing. No more big man ego syndrome for women, for nature, for this planet. It is time to speak of women, of children, of elders, of earth, of nature, of ourselves because we are one and the same.

I hear woman rise, don’t let anyone silence your deep knowing. Speak up. It’s called the voice of the feminine, rising, uprising. No, she won’t be eclipsed or cast in nets. Even for those of us who know of other ways, from time to time we encounter someone who seeks to make us doubt our very bones. But these bones are ancient baby. They speak the more we listen to them.  So please don’t mess with the feminine. She will roar and soar high from the depths where she has been kept hidden, cast away for so long.

Know the tree by its fruit. I want to eat from this forbidden apple. In fact I am already savoring each bite that makes me come alive more and more to the voice that wants to be held in silence, that wants to reclaim itself, that knows something we have forgotten. The realm of the feminine wants to confer its magic yet its workings escape proof,  the way the grand mystery of the universe can’t be fully grasped or translated ALL into beautiful equations.

It is so easy to drown the soft whispers of intuition with the big loud voice of logic. These whispers don’t follow lines of logic, they undulate, zig zag and travel in spirals.  In a world that doubts their essence, the soft whispers inhabiting our depths are fragile. If we distrust the luminous threads of this voice how are we then going to navigate the waters of life? Destined to be lost at sea without the compass of our heart? The biting truth is that you can’t live in your head, there is so much you got to feel with body, heart and soul.

Listen dear ones, the mind executes what the heart finds to be true. So next time you are trying to think your way through something. Sit down and just listen, sense and feel how deep knowing emerges like lightning. Because sometimes soft whispers become thunder. Trust that you will deeply know in your gut, bone, blood, heart, spirit and that together with this soft voice, you will rise.

IN PERFECT RESONANCE, SERENDIPITY, AND SYNCHRONICITY, this divine woman sways with the breath of the FEMININE in all her glory and power. This video with Maya speaking her wisdom came to me as a gift JUST NOW to be shared with all of you.  I am leaping. I feel fireworks in my heart. Sparks of joy! Bless her!

And Still I Rise
by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

~Maya Angelou

I dedicate this post to the beauty and resilience of the human spirit in each one of us, and to the vision of this spirit rising in every community, in every nation, TOGETHER, WITH THE SACRED EARTH, AS ONE. May all beings in all dimensions who suffer from oppression, may their spirit find the courage and freedom to

RISE.

And don’t be surprised if next time you see me I “dance like I’ve got diamonds
at the meeting of my thighs.”

With love,