On being Sovereign….

This is a poem I wrote after a profound ceremony, held on a retreat using breath work. It was somewhere where I was held and allowed myself to hold another with deep love, innocence and beauty. I want to name the uncomfortable feelings that come up around holding and being held, how the wounds from my student-teacher relationships mop up the opportunity to share myself. 

I want to be of service fully and step into my sovereign energy. But I am revolted by the arrogance that I have experienced when somebody is drawn to be a leader, to hold another persons vulnerability and the reverence or gratitude that can be expressed by the participant. The revulsion is to the part of me that enjoys how it feels to be told “you are wise.”. 

How will I navigate this? Will I allow myself to shrink back from expressing my gifts? I can barely name them as my gifts, barely own them as my gifts without cringing.  Even sharing a poem feels arrogant sometimes   Someone being moved by something I’ve done feels manipulative, I name this as my shadow. I do not want affirmation, but I do not want to sit here, and let the years pass without being big, sharing my bigness, and not shrinking back or being ashamed, or risk being too much for you…?

Breathing, blankets and the drums.

They move me, these creatures, 

they let me in,

To stand witness,

to hear the heart song.

They called me “safe” And “grounded”.

They saw me, and they said come, 

you are safe and of the Earth.

And we held her.

Everything I have practised visited me___

As she took my hand.

Every gift, every wisdom,

every craft awoke inside me.

And we journeyed 

though, where she went,

I could not follow.

For I was only there to witness____

to sit as still as I ever have,

In that place of man.

And there, in awe, I sat.

As she returned.

I, as the Earth, I was moved around her.

So there was substance.

Ethereal and corporeal coalesced.

We sat for awhile, wrapped in blankets, 

and looked out into the world.

Then she took me back into the sacred space.

And they help me.

And I felt that bond_strong!

So I travelled, with breath, I purged,

In safety, and earth, and joy.

I howled, and wracked.

And they help me.

They bore witness.

And kept safe, my flesh and bones.

Then stopped the drum.

and I was home.

The goddess took me.

Lay my head in her lap.

And I was held.