I love spiritual practice.
Yes I know, some cringe thinking about the dreaded D word (yes, discipline..) having had too many authority figures telling us what to do.
But we can also view our commitment to practice as self love. It is a commitment to that which truly nourishes us.
We feed the practice, and then the magic begins to happen when the practice feeds us back.
I have been dedicated to the Women’s Temple and the feminine embodiment practices for many years already, and the depths of beauty that begun to reveal themselves to me just this last year, are something I could never have imagined was even possible.
I am in with both feet. I am on fire. I am helplessly in love.
Sometimes the practice is juicy, sometimes it is flat, sometimes we feel heavy, other times we are soaked in bliss. And just as any meditation practice… our job is simple to get our glorious behinds down on that cushion.
It takes surrender, it takes commitment, it takes devotion, and then maybe, maybe, if we are lucky She reveals herself in a fraction of a second, as a scent, a breeze, a rhythm…and nothing is ever the same.
Our practices arise out of an ancient lineage of yoginis (feminine spiritual practitioners, wild women in its truest meaning) and they invite us to move fluently between the esoteric and the highly practical realms.
We are asked to challenge the truth of any duality between spirit and body, between the holy and the mundane. Where is the red dotted line?
The focus of the practices are embodied awakening, embodied love, to be an instrument of awakening in this world.
Oh, how can I contain this. I think I will have to go and bow down for a while.
On my knees showering rose petals at your feet,
Image Bibbi Friman