Last week brought a heady winter cold into my body, demanding me to stop, slow down and recuperate. That is difficult to negotiate when your brain is still racing with ideas and somehow your body can’t keep up. I tried all the home remedies, tea concoctions of ginger, honey, lemon and turmeric or shots of olive leaf extract or high doses of vitamin c. But it lingered for days none the less. I was determined to kick the phlegm monster in the ass my the end of the weekend and when I received the offer to participate in a sweat lodge by a dear friend I knew I had to follow the outstretched hand.
I hadn’t done a lodge in over ten years and the last time was with a crew of women back in Canada. It seemed like a distant memory and so my expectations were limited to these hazy images and long-lived sensations.
I arrived at the 40 acres out of Daylesford and to the dark fireside at sunset to discover that I was the only female participating in the ritual. Me and 8 men. Ok. Right. Embrace this moment Devon. This is trying to tell you something. The fire took ages to fully become alive, I’m talking 3 hours, so in that time the crew of men and I got to know each other, swapping stories of children, travels and food. And by the time we were able to enter the lodge I had relaxed into a state of feminine sanctuary driven mostly by the respect the men were offering me.
The heat and stink and intensity of the next few hours defies words. My heart was elevated to the point where it felt like my neck was going to burst open and spray my life blood on the cold earth. My fingers tingled and with every touch to my leg or the earth or my neighbours hand i saw sparkles of energy dance before my eyes. The sound of the powerful owls that were perched in the nearby gums softened my anxiety and kept me rooted in the moment. I kept having to fight off the urge to escape, to ease the uncomfortable tightness in my chest with a gulp of fresh winter air…. and finally near the end of the ceremony i snuck out to the fireside for a moment, leaving the men inside for a time and there i sat in solitary mediation…the stars and the milky way spinning in their glory above me. i felt my soft female thighs against the earth and looked down at my breasts and smiled….i felt the divine female flowing through me and quietly thanked her.
How does this all relate to Ether? there’s no denying that to create means to draw on all aspects of your life; real, imagined or manifested. Since this experience on the weekend I have spent time looking for the link the spark for the development of our show.
Stamina
I struggled and endured mad physical and emotional intensity and survived the tale.
and
The feminine
And i was smacked in the face with the necessity to embrace my feminine and exalt in my goddess. I mean… 8 to 1… and i was ok.
Now to harness these lessons and apply in our development. yee ha…
ether 