WHY WE COULD ALL DO WITH BEING A BIT MORE DEMONIC...

What I learned being in the jungle with 55 women in Mexico.

I Just watched the video for Mumford and Sons song Woman.

They collaborated with National Geographic.

I was fully prepared to love it.

I love Mumford. I love nature. I love women.

But instead – I felt a burning a brewin’ and a rumblin’ in my belly.

The video is beautiful.

It’s predominantly butterflies fluttering in a forest, overlaid with pleasing circles of other beautiful wildlife – lots of elephants (tribute to matriarchy?), a gazelle with her babies, more butterflies, etc, etc.

The song is also beautiful.

I mean, it’s Marcus Mumford opening his mouth – of course it’s beautiful.

He croons about being in awe of his woman, about wanting to read her mind and having this feeling like there is something he doesn’t know of in her eyes, and night time slowing down… yeah yeah.

We get it.

And it’s boring.

It’s beautiful and dull and flat.

The butterfly, awe, mystery of woman thing is getting pretty fucking old.

If you want to read my mind, ask me what’s on my mind.

If you want to know the mystery, if you want to experience true awe, be willing to see more than butterflies.

Here is the rub.

I just spent a week in a jungle with 55 women.

For the first time in my entire life I got a *glimpse* of what being a woman means – a tiny inkling of the power we hold, of the wisdom and wild inherent in our bodies.

I experienced in myself wells and wells of energy I literally didn’t know existed.

I got out of my fucking mind and surrendered to the flow of my own body.

It wasn’t pretty (okay, some parts were freakin’ gorgeous)

It wasn’t sweet (okay, some parts were the LITERAL SWEETEST, but)

It was terrifying, and then it wasn’t.

I fought it, until the struggle was too much and I had to let go.

I followed and freed lines of energy from my pussy to my womb to my solar plexus to my heart.

I shook like a motherfucker.

I coughed and screamed and shivered.

Tongue out, pussy fucking out, I undoubtedly looked demonic (the fact that we call that demonic is no accident, either).

The mystery unfuckingravels.

The awe afuckingwakens.

Here is the real rub.

To be seen as more than butterflies, we must show up as more than butterflies.

We must awaken our full selves.

No one can know what they have never seen.

Ready or not, the world and the wild needs us to wake the fuck up.

Ready or not, the world and the wild needs us to step into our power, to connect to our pussies and bodies and unleash our truest selves.

There is endless energy in this shedding, this rebirth.

And it doesn’t happen from floating along like a butterfly.

It happens from relinquishing to the deepest knowings of your body – from writhing, and shaking, and slithering, from sounding, and screaming, and roaring, and silence…

It happens from freeing your truth, it happens from CLAIMING your birthright of pleasure and power and ENERGY and creation.

If this sounds freakin’ epic, IT’S BECAUSE IT IS!!!

If this sounds freakin’ terrifying, IT’S BECAUSE IT CAN BE!

No matter what - it is the most beautiful, and powerful, and glorious adventure.

If you want to start yours, reach out today.