I woke up this morning filled with such joy and gratitude. As the sun streamed in through the blinds of my bedroom window, I lay there with an overwhelming awareness that I was raised by wild women. Beautifully wild women.
It’s the kind of thing that you’re not always fully aware of as you grow up. They’re you’re family, they’re what you know. And sure you recognize that they are not like the other people in you’re community, but you don’t truly see them or the ways they’ve shaped you until you have the eyes to fully see them and the pattern they helped to weaved around you.
My mother is a wild woman. She stands on the strength of her convictions. If she speaks it, her actions are sure to follow. She stands for what she believes to be right and true. A sense of fairness, and a sense of justice. She will never allow herself to be disrespected, but she is so loved by those that know her that disrespect seems like an inconceivable act. She first handed me her tarot deck when I was 7 years old, and then gifted me my first deck when I was 16, just as she had received hers at the same age.
Auntie D is a wild woman. Sitting me down to teach me about authenticity in the face of pressure to conform and deny one’s truth. She would brush my aura on the weekend, making sure it was a strong bright shield for the week ahead. She ensured that I could face life with the heart of a warrior.
Auntie M is a wild woman. Gentle, kind, graceful. More softly spoken than Auntie D, yet just as fierce, she is an intuitive healer and Master shaman of the Peruvian Inca tradition. She poured the knowledge of self-love and self-healing into me like the purest water from a fountain.
Auntie P is a wild woman. Tiny in stature, she commands attention with a glance. She is also a Master shaman, but in the tradition of the South African sangoma, carried in her blood through her mother’s side. Deeply in touch with the power of the Divine Feminine and harnessing your sexual power, sensuality rolls off her in waves. She taught me powerful dances and movements so that even as I stood in Canada I could bring my foot down and touch Africa. She taught me that I need not fear the power inside of me. To embrace it and let it pour from me like spiced honeyed wine.
Auntie S is a wild woman. She has a flower garden so large and beautiful that you are 100% certain there are fairies hiding in it. She would gift me big bold primal jewelry and beautiful bracelet charms made of gold. She taught me to expect beauty and abundance in my life as a known thing. To drape myself in adornments and carry myself with the presence of an ancient Queen.
My birth mother was a wild woman. Having me much too young, she had the courage to heed Spirit’s call, and with love in her heart she placed me where I would have my best chance.
And with that act I ended up in the arms of wild women. And as my power began to show as a child and grow, I had been divinely placed with teachers to help support and guide me. I was given wild women to illuminate my path.
Now here I stand, humbled and filled with gratitude, a wild woman in my own right. Taking the gifts and knowledge I have learned at their knees and through my own extensive study and experience, standing tall to beat the drum, and dance the dance, and pour life into those that are lost and seeking. And I ask myself, “Is there anything so beautiful in this life as wild women raising wild women?”
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