Aspects of being a woman
And there are days like this.
When my breasts are aching, I become very sensitive, I snap at my husband (sorry amor) and I feel like crying out of nothing.
So I cry, and cry, letting it all out, tapping into the collective pain, into the intense eclipse season, into any emotion that wants to be expressed.
And I write, and write everything that I feel, everything that I crave, all the doubts and insecurities, all the empowering and calming thoughts.
And I drink tea, lots of it. Today it was chamomile, because she’s such a gentle and compassionate flower.
And I listen to comforting music, even if it makes me cry even more, it’s healing me in the same time.
And I go back to Her, to nature, to Mother Earth, to the wind blowing and the birds singing, to the warmth of the sun of my skin and the moisture of earth beneath my feet.
And when I breathe Her in, I find within my heart an unshakeable trust that the path will show itself to me, that I am taken care of and that everything will be OK.