You’re like a spider woman with claws trying to rip open shit with a nastiness and distaste that drips fierceness from your tongue.
Tracking for threads of truth within her rage from a blinding pain that is all consuming when she’s misunderstood and her grandmothers that live inside her are not seen. Polishing her finds with the saliva of her ancestors, delicately placing each piece of wisdom on the shelf to lead her back to who she is. Collecting magic with her hands from deep within the earth, her elbows begin to grow roots and she becomes the wildness that she remembers.
Protector from violence she becomes, as she soaks up the volcanic liquid that meets the lava inside of her and spills from her mouth and between her legs and that’s when the world wills her death when she becomes more than can ever be understood.
A power that fills her from the mud she likes to smear over her body. A reminder that her ancestors live inside of her as she reaches for their bones deep within the earth. And with everything she knows, they still try and silence her rage from being heard, even from women that say they understand but haven’t ventured deep enough to know it in their bones.
As her lava spills and hardens to create new surface, she collects all the fuckers that try to destroy her and suffocates them with her fire. Give no fucks, be the bitch that only the earth understands because of the love you hold and have for Her. She understands why death is important and why woven skins that violate her is fucking necessary.
It’s a stirring that never goes away. A chaos that’s deep in the marrow. A burn that’s lived through the rage of all the women before you. A scream that’s eternally lived from centuries of pain from the tribes I am from.
No matter how you expect a woman should be, she will never be what you want her to be no matter how hard you try to make her fear her fire. It’s a furnace of heat that will melt your fucking insides with the sting of her words and the trickery of her niceness.
Understand, if you take the light out of her eyes you’re creating something you don’t want to fuck with no matter how meek and complying you think she is. A darkness is stirring that will swallow you both whole, but only one will make it out alive.
I’ve had my bones broken in many places and set them back together with the wisdom from my grandmothers loved back with the chaos I was born and taught to fear.
You can’t destroy a woman that is made of death that enjoys inflicting pain and sewing lips with whispered words of hate that she is made of. The misconception that you’re going to be some fucking nun when you rewild and come back to the woman you are is a fucking lie. You live the rawness of nature and the ferocity of your ancestors honour. Think before you try to smack a bitch down because she will rise with her people behind her.
When the fuck are cunts going to learn that we don’t break, we burn.
I ain’t going to pretty it up for the war thats comin.
Difference is oppressed within crevices of the earth you think you are and only discovered in its fullness each time you go deeper. It’s within the heat of rage of being told you’re not okay like that. That’s too much, too disgusting, too angry, too dark, and we’d be learning how we make people feel uncomfortable but unsure what it is or how until you go deeper and more.
For women especially, we learn to hide our too much under a false sense of self called nice. A trauma response to keep ourselves safe always knowing when we meet people that won’t respect our too much. We be knowing it, before we even think about it and when a woman be sensing more from a person, she will replay the pain of people pleasing to avoid feeling unsafe, to avoid the self rejection cycle to be triggered.
The more we know ourselves the more we discover what we’ve been hiding because we haven’t had an opportunity to know what we’ve been hiding. We learn how people have reacted to what they see and sense about us and we’ve been left wondering why or what reliving self rejection patterns spiralled grief longing to be loved and freed, words and behaviours from toxic people believing its more than okay to fuck around with someone’s self and yet they’d be not knowing shit from clay.
When we hit layers of earth within ourselves that are yet to be discovered, don’t polish her to be presentable. See what she needs to breathe in the air she needs to be free, and the earth within her that needs to flourish and live,
One of the most common fears women share about stepping into her power is being seen as crazy. It’s up there with ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone with my rage, and what if they don’t like me and leave ?’
It speaks volumes as women how we are conditioned to fear our individuality, our true self expression. Not the trauma response of ‘nice’ and people pleasing, but at the core of how she really feels and who she really is.
And those trauma responses woman, listen to them. Learn to be present when you’re feeling something from another person knowing you can’t be your real self with them. Watch this so you don’t turn it inwards believing there’s something wrong with you and you spiral down into self rejection attacking yourself and contracting your power.
The oppression we all know is to contain a woman’s power so she can mimic and obey the oppressed masculine. Obey or you’ll be rejected, isolated and ostracised.
And women do it to women too, it’s an ingrained dysfunctional behaviour to void the feminine unless she’s obeying to something unnatural and false to who she really is so it feeds the conformed expectation of colonisation.
That trauma response of masking niceness with people pleasing because there’s a strong fear within her that she knows when a person expects a woman to behave to the oppression of colonisation, and if she doesn’t there’s something wrong with her.
Anything outside this bullshit box is crazy and will be rejected even those that say they don’t but refuse to be inclusive by not living the mindfulness and presence of inclusion and instead falls reign to colonisation and white supremacy which should also show you that to unthread, understand, know and be present with this bullshit inside it takes inner work and daily presence.
Now that I’ve laid that out, this week I will share a little about reclamation of feminine power through goddess myth untangling the religious influence of upholding this power as a statue on a table usually named as an altar which I don’t use (and I’ll explain why in my next post) instead of living the embodiment which is what the practice be.
To be continued.
Wildness isn’t a picture of a white women in boho clothing using a racial slur towards my people to describe what they fucking are not and never will be. We’ve seen the pictures with stupid arse memes describing what a wild woman is not.
The depth you must evolve into and towards when speaking of ancestral witchcraft and shamanic practices is none of the above. That’s white washing of earth practices and the misunderstanding of wildness.
You live the power and depth of mystery and that is an ongoing evolution to stand in the fire of who you are and your own ancestry. It is feeling, expressing, and being all human emotions with fuck all guilt, which includes rage women and I’m going to touch on that again. Ancestral healing work goes hand in hand with ancestral witchcraft and shamanic practices in order to live and pull up ancestral power within the deepest wounds in our lineage. If you’re not emotionally healing, your practice is aesthetic, an image of what witch is not.
Ancestral liberation is emotionally expressing the power which is the freedom of you and your own ancestors and the pain that has been oppressed in your own thread.
This wildness holds fire, darkness, depth and freedom. Much of the time it is tumultuous, and learning to hold and express that fire with no fucks given. That includes rage. People speak of authenticity yet pass consistent judgement on women that have fought to stand in her fire. Wildness is the mystery naked and raw within us. Ever moving, fierce but always loving whether you understand her expression of woman or not.
Don’t even fucking try to shame our rage, and I’m speaking for women of colour. We have so much unvalidated rage and the niceness that white women try and gaslight, guilt and want us to be, is the cunty oppressor within her. There’s a sprinkle of some amazing white women I’m surrounded by, those that have listened and validated my rage wanting to understand. To the rest, unlearn that woman and let’s walk beside one another because black lives matter and being anti-racist is not a fucking trend.
Let’s talk self acceptance for a little bit cause if you’re wanting tip the edge and walk into this deeper and darker place, this is work that needs doing and ongoing presence, and definitely not living a surface level place of convincing yourself that you do. That’s not love, that’s bypassing what needs to be loved.
Self acceptance, I know the term has been thrown around like a fucking well used vibrator, and it’s much more than saying ‘I acceptance myself’ cause you really don’t know what that means until you unthread the conforming oppressive bullshit women are expected to be, and I want to add there’s different levels of oppression a woman carries for so many factors- race, sexuality, gender identity, disability to name but a few not just being woman. So what I’m trying to point out there’s layers, not this fuck around bullshit you see in most spiritual groups that you ‘love yourself’ and live all the fluffy love and light which not only is it a narrow view of life and a tonne of white privilege, but they’re also placing people in boxes assuming that it’s ‘like this’ which is an expectation coming from their lack of a deepening experience of what life is about but also what real love is.
This bullshit expectation does more harm than good, because while a woman is healing herself and she’s trying to again fit herself in a box she knows she’s trying break out. It’s smeared with a different language and feeds an unhealthy belief that this is the way I have to love myself and if not, I must be doing it wrong.
No cunt can tell you how to love yourself because every person, wounding, trauma and oppression a woman has lived, walks a different self navigation and healing process. It’s deep, because ancestral practice is deep af.
Why a real healer or anyone doing transformative work moves with the individual rhythm of each person.
There’s no one size fits all.
So saying all of that, self acceptance as we move into a deeper knowing space of who we really are, and not conforming to oppression which is riddled with anxiety and understandably so (I’ll talk about this another time), the presence that is required developed with consistent practice is needed to live this depth of earth practice, of ancestral work and liberation and of self love.
If you don’t know how to manage your traumas and you will experience triggers, which we fukn do anyway loves, you slip back into the people pleasing oppression which this wild track of a walk is not about.
My point, self acceptance isn’t just screaming to the world I accept myself, but realising the work and depth it means to really accept and love yourself because when we’re still skimming the surface of our own personal growth and evolution, in too many ways we’re conforming to societal and patriarchal expectations still, (the whole plastic niceness bullshit is one small example), and let me also add in cultural expectation. It’s not until we stand in the darkest place within ourselves, live and love ourselves there do we really know what real self acceptance is.
For those that want to go darker, deeper come on over to Muma Padurri Facebook page but please read the pinned post before clicking like, it’s not for everyone..