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Gaian Rants | |||||||||
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Our Wild Nature - Celebrating the ReWilded Woman by Loba | |||||||||
We are reminded of the power of unconditional love, of women together without separation from each other or from our authentic selves. We find the self that has been hidden under layers of belief, of ego, of history. We step through the fire, step out on the other side and feel the sand under our feet, the brush of bee-plant on our bare skin, and jump with abandon into the crisp life-giving waters. We emerge whole, new, and never ever the same again! We are stripped to the bare bones, and filled with a love that overflows. We are women yearning to ‘re-become’ their true selves... women wanting to wholly, truly live! -Terri Segal | |||||||||
When people in this society talk about a “wild woman” they usually mean she’s promiscuous, vicious, undisciplined— somebody who needs to be gotten under control. But in truth wild means someone or something embodying its “authentic, original nature,” being self-disciplined, and moving to the rhythms of a wild, wild world! Being wild is really being in touch with our hungers and hurts, needs and desires, our moon cycles and life cycles! Being wild is passionately valuing the living Earth we’re a part of, nourishing her, and then standing up for her when she’s threatened. A Summer’s full moon marks each “Wild Women’s Gathering,” an exploration and celebration of the Gaia and Goddess within. A small group of lovers of the Earth from all across the country come to circle, share, learn and celebrate in a true place of power. Young pagans searching for affirmation, and wise crones reconsidering their next big shift in life. Skirted ecofeminists and ex-housewives going ever further on their lifelong path of truth and healing. One by one we drop our resistance and armor, finding power in our ability to need and feel, opening up to the clarity and blessings of this sacred living planet. For tens of thousands of years this bend in the canyon was a ritual center for the Mogollon people, pit-house and cliff dwellers who needed their own ritual time and focus in order to stay in alignment with their spirit filled environment. Like us, they used ecstatic dance, solo quests, and the heat of the sweat lodge to help keep their pushy left-brains in check. In fact, it seems to take a whole day just to slough off the vibe of airports and cars, to still the mind enough to begin noticing where we are in the now. There are just so many waking hours in a lifetime, and so few of these are given over to solitude or prayer. Or getting together with our fellow sisters. Or soaking up the lessons of the untamed world, dancing and cuddling in the arms of sweet Mother Earth. And then here we are, suddenly together! We sense that we’re welcomed by an ancient spirit, encircled by a protective river. We start feeling safe enough to take risks, to face the truth within us and all around us, in a place of mountain and forest, vibrating cliffs and thirsty hummingbird moths feeding on bursting blossoms. Sure enough, events like these are about “nature”: our aware, instinctual, feeling, inner natures. About the natural ease with which tribal women and women on the land relate to one another. And about the natural world, the Gaian whole we’re each an inseparable part of. We’re made more alive by this coming into our senses, trusting and following our intuition, rediscovering our little-girl dreams and medicine woman purpose. We realize that we are both at home in nature — and naturally wild! These gatherings are wild too. They unfold according to where we’re at and what we hunger for, the experiences and wounds and hopes that each person brings with them, and the direction of Spirit. The wildflowers bursting with color, the shade of the gnarly oaks and the coolness of the water are all unplanned but somehow perfect. The kinds of delicious wild greens we add to our meals depend on what’s growing at the time. We move through one powerful experience after another, with the only certain direction being deeper. Form magically follows the energy as feelings are expressed, situations change, and intentions and needs are revealed. No matter how attached we are to our plans beforehand, it’s especially potent when we respond to opportunities, when deep feelings are expressed, or when something significant and unexpected happens. Water-striders skating across the surface of the river make us think about doing the impossible. Wild-foods pizza baked over coals on an antique shovel demands and gets our attention, informing us through our eyes, and tongue, and nose. A spontaneous moonless hike turns into an opportunity for to exceed our imagined limitations, how much we can really “see” without our eyes, and the ways in life in which we’re really “in the dark!” A swim in the river, planned to get us out of our minds and into our wilder beings, becomes the seed for sharings about self-image and shame. A certain vulnerable story comes up and a circle on bodies and self acceptance shifts to the difficult subject of relationship, and the difference between codependency and the interdependency represented by everything around us: the river nourishing the cottonwoods and willows, the willows providing a home for the insects and birds, the lion needing the deer and the deer needing the grass .... and the water, and each other. The results have seldom been what anyone expected. One woman remembered what she loved most about her husband, and others have found the strength to leave unsatisfying relationships. Another came to terms with her attraction to others of the same sex, teens have considered this their rite of passage to empowered adulthood, and my elders have used their time here to accept and own the gifts and responsibilities of cronehood. And everyone gets the benefit of feeling their truest hearts, together with other heart-full women. My self-consciousness gives way to the magic, as I’m empowered by what I’m able to give — and as I so appreciate what each woman gives me in return. When the swimming and dancing are done and the tears are all soaked up by the ground, the songs and laughter of re-wilded women continues vibrating off of the holy crimson cliffs. One by one the sisters pack up and wind their way down the canyon towards their cars. I watch until they are out of sight, waving their arms in the air like wind-swept pines. Once the last seeker has gone the river seems to wrap around me like a cushy comforter. And in the stirrings of the current I can feel the movement happening in these sisters’ lives, growing and flowing wilder than ever! I hold tight to the way our farewell hugs felt, and to everything we shared and learned. But it isn’t long before I’ve lost track of time again, bending over to lift and fluff the grass that marked the circle where we sat. | |||||||||
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