The Burning Fire of the Snake Woman

December 17, 2017

 Photo (crop) by odducky


Spring brought such an unexpected amount of joy back into my life after an intense winter of grief and inner work. I followed my callings and was led through heart breaking grief, through staggering loneliness, through the fears of my inner child, through my soul crushing lack of self-worth, through sobs that wracked my body until it was just a shell.. to this place of independence and freedom where I am not relying on others to offer me security, or if I do it’s because I choose to for that time, not because I feel I can’t do it alone. It led me to my inner healer, my shaman, my witch; she who feeds my soul with rage, with a burning fire that is transmuted into the energy to heal, and the courage to walk the dark paths alone, and with you as you dive into the depths of your fear. It led me to a part of myself that I found in the most expected and unexpected place, hidden behind walls and pedestals and fear, behind should’s and should not’s, inside my red-haired soul mate with dragon eyes that I’ve known for lifetimes, and in other dimensions, forever and forever, an infinite spiral of coming apart and together, learning and loving. A gift from the universe that has inspired me to be the best version of myself that I can possibly be in this reality, striving forward, following my path that is laid out before me in paint and blood; both tools of creation and life.

I walked along the bush paths with my tribe in front and behind me, healers, teachers, guides, friends, lovers, students; we went in silence, picking up leaves and sticks, feathers and dirt, as we walked to the place where the Grandmothers live among moss and stone. We sat together and spoke in silence as ants danced across my toes, absorbing magic through ink sigils and geometry magic; they too spoke that language. The Grandmothers let me rest on their ancient, moss-covered flesh, their breasts and wombs having given life to uncountable children, they cradled me and sang lullabies of cicada dreaming. She came to me then, a wisp of green, the Mother, the Grandmother, and held out her hands in offering of a gift; a seed. She brought her hands up to her face and blew a golden green dust into my face, like the seeds of dandelions blown into the wind. I thanked her for her gift and gave her back my love through my heart as it expanded out through the entire bush, so grateful for this healing.

Summer came as I drove north. My 25th Solar Return fell on the full moon, while I was 3 days into the 10 day Visionary Alchemy painting workshop with Aloria Weaver and David Heskin. In the morning I walked down to the river and stood in a clearing surrounded by trees and the sound of the running water. I closed my eyes and sent my energy down into Mother Earth through my feet as they kissed the soft grass and early morning dew, and back up she sent her energy through my feet and up through my body, grounding and healing. I became a pillar of light from the infinite light above, to the earth below. I felt the huge portal that was open over the land, the energy grid that was sending full power light into the space, infusing everything with magic and intensity. I felt a cleansing take place in my body, uncomfortable and heart sore, I spent my day mourning the closing of the cycle, the return to the beginning and the death of everything that took place during the year. When the moon came out, I stood underneath her and let her anchor me, reminding me of my truth. I had a conversation with one of the artists about birds as she was painting a black cockatoo. I showed her my Tawny Frogmouth painting and we spoke about all the bird magic that was in our lives. There was a fire and drumming underneath the moon, so a friend and I walked down into the night full of giggles. As we walked along, a Tawny Frogmouth flew up in front of me from the ground and into a tree above us. I thanked it for its gift once again, of coming into my life in the perfect moments and imparting its wisdom. I sat in front of the fire staring at the moon above us, feeling the heat of the flames on my skin, and listening to the music being played around the fire. As the music came to a close, I picked up a stick and gave it all that was no longer serving me. I placed it in the fire; an offering, a closing. And then went to bed full of love and gratitude for my life and the precious moments of magic.

Breakfast of fruits and homemade bread and jam. Lying naked in the morning sun warming my soul, swimming bare under the trees and sky. Morning meditation; alone and in group. Feet on earth, hands on heart, breathing the fire, igniting the flame in my womb, expanding, creating, being the channel. Soft nights painting to music and UFO documentaries, micro-bat visits and squeals of delights, quiet conversations, integrating group knowledge, silently contributing to the collective energy field, giggles and the painter’s eternal dissatisfaction. Jumping naked into the hot tub under the stars and swimming in the river in the dark with beautiful goddesses. The rush to finish a layer of paint in time for the next step after long days of paint and tea, and the manic painter’s noises of sighs, meows and frustrated moans. Falling in love over and over again with the inner beauty of the visionary tribe, with the land, with paint, with the process. What a gift. What a blessing. Eternal gratitude.

A naked swim in the morning sun interrupted by a bite to my ankle and a manic attempt to exit the water without slipping on mossy rocks. I looked at my ankle and it had two tiny marks dripping blood. Everyone knows there are animals in the water, but no one actually wants proof of it. I was about to head back up to paint, when I knew I had to walk into the clearing again. I walked down and wondered what was calling me. I felt the trees talking to me, and sent them love back. I reached my meditation spot, and felt the need to place my hand on the earth, and was sent a vision of a serpent women under the earth who had snakes all through her hair, a Medusa-like Mother who was strong like fire. She was both a woman and a huge snake, poised upwards, ready to make her move, to show she was alert and fierce. I’m still integrating her wisdom, but I’m so thankful she wanted to show herself to me and I feel that I’ve been carrying her magic in me since I met her.
Coincidently (but not really because there are no coincidences), I did a photoshoot on my way home and one of the shots we got I was tied to a tree, with my hair tied into rope above me so that I look like Medusa. The Snake Woman is a part of me now, and I can’t wait to channel her into paint.

After I left the workshop, I stayed with my best friend and her partner on their amazing property that overlooks valleys and sings with the sound of peacocks. The second night I got hit with the most intense stomach pain, that quickly turned into gastro, and I spent that whole night in a fever, curled up in pain or running out to purge. I pushed through the next day thinking it was just an upset stomach. The third day I was heading home and had a photoshoot planned on the way back, so I pushed through the pain and managed to do the photoshoot despite being bloated and struggling to pose because of the pain. I was hoping to drive through the night and make it home, but only made it a few hours before I was in agony and struggling to drive. I pulled over on the freeway and curled up in bed sobbing. I was about an hour from my Dad’s so I called him and told him what was wrong, and decided I would drive to the closest town to him and let him know how I was doing. I barely made it to the town I was in so much pain in my stomach and so delirious. My dad ended up coming to get me and took me to the emergency room where they put me on a drip straight away because I was so dehydrated. I learnt a big lesson to take gastro more seriously as it can get bad so quickly.

What I find so interesting is that for the past few months I’ve been having some intense body image issues and health issues, feeling like my body is rotting away and generally not treating it kindly. I have been looking in the mirror and nearly crying every day because of how ugly I have felt. I’m being real, not looking for any sort of reassurance, because logically I know it’s not true, but it’s just my struggle at the moment. I feel like this let me purge all that negativity, like my body just reached a point where it couldn’t take any more and had to expel it. I feel so much better after my huge purge and I’m now actively healing my lack of self-love again. I say again because it’s something that reoccurs in my life and each time it returns it has less strength than the time before. Our bodies hear us when we speak to them, they listen and take on all the thoughts we fling at them.. This is something I’m really trying to work on, is to talk to my body kindly, to treat it like I would a child; gently, kindly and with compassion.

There is so much more magic about to start and it’s exciting and terrifying and light and dark and everything in between.

I don’t have any more words except thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you

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