I have always been here.
This circle is my teacher, satguru, it is my home, it is my sisters, it is my mother. It is myself.
The Yogini lineage goes way back for thousands of years, and the practices we explore in the Awakening Women community today has been brought to us through the winds and stones and ripples on the water.
Self arising wisdom breaking the surface, through the blood in my veins, through the beat in my heart. The circle has swallowed me, chewed me, digested me, composted me, and spit me out. Re-born, helplessly in love.
The Yogini circle is the bridge across the tormenting schism between spirit and our aching humanness. It rips away the fog, the dusty old concepts, the plastic spiritual food, and invites us to feast at the table with the Goddess herself. Why would I settle for anything less than that, when she is RIGHT HERE. Only a breath away. Not even.
The circle has birthed me into real woman hood, it has given me infinite roots in all directions. I have surrendered into the flow of giving and receiving, giving and receiving, and in that flow I have had a taste of real sisterhood. Trust. Strong, brave, clear, beauty.
The circle reminds me to dance, to shake, to howl. I am ripped open, I am recognized, I am awakened. It stretches me, massages me, slaps me, tickles me, nurses me, pushes me, and it holds me tight, tight, through it all.
The circle would never let me slip away into any trip of achievement, of arrogance or unworthiness, it would never allow us to sit around and “talk about it” in a make believe world made of concepts and crippling ideals.
My Yogini sisters mirrors to me the fluidity and magnificence of this infinite awakening journey.
That the enlightened face of the feminine have a hundred thousand names.
That this life is not a problem to be solved, it is a glorious opportunity to contribute to a mysterious dance, wild beyond comprehension.