Beauty Medicine

What a kindness she showers upon me, not letting me skip any steps, or leave not even one stone unturned.

On days like these, cold and rainy, I feel a pull from the deep from the dark, womb of the earth, source of all things.

I’m only just beginning to learn upon whose backs my life has been built; whose blood has been shed for mine to live; who has been displaced for me to stand where I stand.

Find your ground in love. Real ground.

Through centuries of sunrises and sunsets, there have always been women’s hips. Hips swaying under the stars, dancing to the rhythm of the wind, singing the songs of our ancestors, worshiping the very life they create.

Poem by Chameli Ardagh – Unworthiness and arrogance can only allure you into their entangled shadow dance when you forget who you are.

You can be sure She is awake, summoned by the gods again for battle, perplexed by their own chaos. They quietly confess they need her now more than ever to move mountains

There are mothers. There are birthmothers. And there are stepmothers. There are adoptive mothers and there are soul mothers. There are real life mothers and there are heavenly mothers.

Yogini sadhana—the spiritual practice of women— is not a mental theory for us to memorize or learn. It is an unfolding from deep within you, from within the very fabric of the world. Earth is birthing herself as you. Gather wise women around you…

Sacred union of earth and sky, dancing all the elements. Sky penetrating Earth with life-giving water. Filling Her, quenching Her becoming the life-blood of Gaia.