priestessing myself.

I have all or nothing tendencies. I feel that if I am not fully in, there is no point being in at all. This reasoning does not serve me, but I have yet to find the balance within myself to make it any other way.

I love what I do and my work is very important to me. I know that I am the right person for this work because I remain humble and in a very pure state of grace when I witness great magic occurring around me, myself largely being a catalyst of that magic. I find so much joy helping others remember their wild, their truth, their fierce grace. And so I’ve been told, am quite good at it. I lovingly accept this complement. Finally. One of my dearest and most beloved Sisters dubbed me “The Reluctant Messiah” (I love you, Linda.) I am often just that. And perhaps, there are reasons we are mirrors for one another. I will show you how you truly shine ~ and you inadvertently show me shining back.

This is a piece of my work, difficult to refer to as a job, but it helps pay our bills so whether I call it that or not, it is what it is. How blessed am I that my passion allows me to put food on the table. Aho to that!

There is so much more inside of me to give. So much that I have to hold it in, because it’s not the right time. For me, social media causes Priestess Envy. Interesting expression, right. But it’s true. I see these amazing women doing their work and making a difference and I am genuinely happy for them. I love to see my Sisters succeed, especially when they are serving as guides and changing lives. But Priestess Envy enters and causes me to feel pain in my heart that I have to limit myself and hold back. I do not have that freedom to give of myself the way they do.

My “Self” has already been given. I made that offering when I said yes to nurture seeds in my belly and allow them to transform into living, breathing human beings. I do not regret that offering and will stand firm when I say Motherhood is the greatest blessing we can have, and also the greatest blessing we can give. I know there are mothers out there that can still give and keep giving of their gifts and do so beautifully even when their children are young. I am simply not one of them. I have tried and tried to find the balance to do so. It is not within me. Not presently anyway. Who knows how I could grow. But right now my all or nothing brings unhappiness to the latter party, and that is simply not acceptable.

I posted an article on FB semi-recently about this entitled, “Mama-Priestess” (find it HERE) and it posed the question, “Can we do both?” I truly believe that some can. I can. But doing and being present while doing is a different matter. I believe that when my children are older I can find better balance. And of course, I am Priestess, whether I am changing lives and guiding the way for my sisters or changing diapers and preparing lunch for my family.

Right now I must choose. I cannot have both. Not the way I do it.

My work is very special. I know it. But my most important work is Mother. I will always be able to return to the Path of Priestess and the work that women need. But childhood is fleeting. It is precious. And it is gone before we know it. I see that so clearly in the eyes of my beautiful 18 year old daughter that I still remember looking down into at my breast. I see it as I look into my 4 year old’s eyes, and snuggle my 11 month old in my embrace, and know very likely that one more precious baby will come sooner or later. I know ~ and I choose to be their all.

I honor my Sisters that can find the balance to do both. And I celebrate and give thanks to my Sisters who are giving their all to the Priestess Path. The ones who have no children at their breast (perhaps only just yet) or the ones whose children are grown, because they are the ones that mothers like me need. When I am exhausted and spent from giving all I have to give to these blessed creations that call me mommy, and I have nothing left but still must give and give, they are the ones that come along and hold me up. And they carry me along. And they fill me and love me and honor me for the work that I do. They shine the mirror. And I say, Thank you, Mother.

And so, with these words, I close the door for a little while. I hold the key very close to my heart because the time will come again to open it.

It is time to Priestess myself. It is time to Priestess my family.

I am so grateful for all of the Paths that I get to walk. I am grateful for new beginnings. I am grateful for dark spaces. I am grateful for change. I am grateful for you. I am grateful for me. I am grateful. I am grateful. I am grateful.


a bit of truth telling.

Being vulnerable is often the answer to many things. But like many answers, that doesn’t mean it’s easy. I’ve been immersed lately in a forced vulnerability. My own force. The Universal Force. Goddess Force.

Goddess Talk.

Thoughts running through me that won’t shut down. Compelling me to write it out. Well here I am with my pen. We’ll see where we end up together.

(Little arms are moving at the top of the bed. Soon the words that want to come will have to be put aside because… Mother. And that is that.)

My work is to inspire. I know that. And it happens in a myriad of ways. To inspire I must first live inspired. To teach depth I must go deeper.

thewildsoul.netI’ve seen the quote, “Be your own Guru” more than once, but recently it started speaking to me with kind of an exasperated sigh and a shake of the head. And I started to watch and listen more closely to my inner talk. I’ve been idolizing. Super hero status-ing. Pedestaling. I’ve been wanting more from and for my ego self. Feeling pulled to others out there. Feeling attached to ideas about them and about myself in regards to them. They are feelings of desire not to be someone other than myself but to be recognized by other for being myself. I feel very vulnerable and exposed for this admittance. It is not something that I am proud of (to feel the need for that recognition/acceptance) but I am not necessarily ashamed of it either, and honestly I am just trying to understand it. Where is it coming from? My awareness and acknowledgement of it is a starting point. Interesting. There is a humbling humility.

I have the great blessing of knowing amazing women. Beautiful, wise and wild goddesses whose hands I can physically hold and faces I can touch. I have the great blessing of being one of these women to others. My Sisters, oh how I am grateful! And yet… I find myself still going to that place. Like I’m missing out on something.

This is big work for me lately. Beautiful faces and enchanting words through books and social media lead me to call guru to these forces outside of myself. Let me be clear. These amazing women are not asking to be idolized or worshiped. They are only doing their work, the same as I do mine. It is me doing the projecting. And I am an awakened woman (and still I awaken). I fully stand in my beautiful wild awesome nature and claim it. My task then, is to allow myself to be the seeker without needing to befriend the master (again, my words, my projections.) To be content to be in the wider circle of feminine awakening without being in “their” personal circles. To live more in the present moment. MY moments. Because they are goddamn beautiful moments and I am so unbelievably blessed to live them.

I am a beautiful human being. I have a beautiful family and community. I have beautiful gifts to share and I share them beautifully. I live in a beautiful place and my bare feet touch a beautiful earth. Ultimately, She is my guru. Earth. Nature. Goddess. Myself. We are the same.

And so with these last words, I am releasing you. You amazing, awe-inspiring she-gurus. You will keep doing your brilliant work and I will keep doing mine. I am drawn to you because we are mirrors. I am drawn to your magic because you show me mine. Yes, I would love to hug you and kiss your sweet face for that. And that’s okay. But… it’s okay. We don’t need to meet. I don’t need to be your Circle and you don’t need to be mine. I release my attachment to that. I thank you for your truth. Your wisdom. I thank you for living it. I will continue to be inspired from it, but my path will not be determined by it. I bow to this inner wisdom and thank you so humbly for these lessons.

Jai Ma. Namaste. Blessed Be.

a sigh of relief.

A letter for my Circle Sisters:

Dear Sisters,

It is just past midnight as I write this, mere hours since I left you. I thought that I would come home after this night, and breathe a sigh of relief at having my life back. My mind, my heart, all of space and time which has been yours, albeit willingly. It is finished. I did it. We did it. So much of me went into this project, and I know you felt it. My family has missed me. I must learn how not to pour myself in so deeply but it would not have been what it was, or what it will continue to be, had I not. I must learn balance if I am to continue on this Path. But, yes, the sigh of relief. I suppose it is still there but for a different reason. I could cry at the joy that we all experienced in each others presence. I could cry for the bonds we made and the hearts we opened. I could cry for the magic. And that is the sigh. That is where it comes from. That with courage of the unknown I set out to explore the boundaries of myself while holding your hands and taking you with me. That we held space together in sheer faith alone, not knowing what would become of it, or us. That we discovered deep within our souls what many of us had been missing: Sisterhood. I am honored. You have blessed me every step of the way. My sigh of relief is that there exists such magic. I knew it in my heart. Thank you for reminding me.

With love and the deepest gratitude, ~B

imbolc with my sisters.

Tonight was supposed to be the last Session of my Spirit Flow workshop. The weather decided to change our plans however and a decision was made to postpone for a week. .While closing our Sessions out this Holy Day was meant to be significant to the overall process, I know that everything happens for a reason. So while the snowy weather and icy roads kept many of my Sisters at home for a cozy fireside celebration with their families, 4 of us ventured out to meet in the thick of it, and had a very beautiful gathering time. Our yoga mats set up to perfectly mimic Brigid’s cross, we practiced in silence with our breath and my guided instruction. My IPOD, which had been plugged in at home, malfunctioned in some way and had zero charge, so there was no music to be had. It turned out to be best though, because one of the women present just needed the silence and the support of the rest of us. Because of the small group she was able to open up about something she’d been holding for awhile. She has been standing in the flames and her transformation has been overwhelming. We 3 were there to hold the space so that she could see her way through. It was a necessary and beautiful night and I’m glad I didn’t give into the whim and not go out.

My friend Jen brought her tarot cards and both my fiery sister and I got readings. Jen is so good and so very connected. I remember when readings used to flow out of me like they flow out of her. I hope to be there again one day. But until then, Jen serves as a beautiful inspiration and guide for me. My cards spoke of blocks to be uncovered. Creativity demanding focus and choices to be made. And of reclaiming my feminine divinity. That while these classes that I’ve offered have changed everyone so deeply on so many levels; in the end, the process has really been for me. And I know that that is true. And I am beyond grateful for it and the beautiful women that allowed that process to take shape and show its true form.

Here is to the light that shines bright within us all. And to the coming sun that continues to strengthen towards Spring.

writing down my story.

I have never attempted to write down my story, but recently I have been inspired to do so. It is my own Healing Spell, to write it down, and it was quite the emotional ride to get here. It turned out kind of prose-y which I was surprised about. I haven’t written a poem in years. It was a beautiful awakening. Of course, the whole of a woman’s life can not possibly be conveyed in a single story, all at once, but I hope that this attempt brings a step toward Light for all of us. This is a long one, so I thank you in advance for taking the time to read it.

Then again, perhaps the whole of a woman’s story can be told at once. In a single word. In one of the most beautiful and all encompassing words, if she is ready… Goddess.

When I was a little girl
I would dig my hands in the dirt
and make mud pies with my grandma’s good silver.
I would swing on the anchors of giant ships
docked outside the windows of my playground
and walk barefoot on sharp rocks and hot sand
to make stronger the callouses on the soles of my feet.
I would spend hours brushing my grandma’s
long, thick, silver hair,
which by the way, turned that color before her 20th birthday
and put on her red lipstick in front of a gilded mirror bigger than I was.

My great grandmother was a Witch, and she
would feed me cherries, covered in chocolate,
covered in secrets, in her tiny bedroom
with a closet that I was sure
led to secret gardens, even though
I could never find them.

When I was a little girl my sister and I
would chase rainbows running barefoot
for miles.
You could do that then.
We were lucky and had a blessed
early childhood.
We were raised in the womb of
the Mother Ocean
and saw the sun rise and set
as fisherman’s daughters are aught to do.

When I was 5 I stood on my mother’s bed
and watched my father drive away
with tears in my eyes.
She loved him. She did. But she was young and
did not know how to be happy in that love.
He loved her.
But he did not know how to fight for her.

2 years later and there was a drunk man
in my mother’s bed who was soon to become my stepfather.
I still dug my hands in the dirt and ran around
chasing rainbows.
My parents were formed by stories of their own.
2 lost souls who were left seeking.
Searching for love when they had it all along.
Poor things.

Alcoholism is a dark shadow and we were standing in it
with feet on broken glass in too many late night stakeouts
In our pajamas. At 2am. Sunken down in the backseat of the car
outside the bar where there is no place for children.
It was a time of Lies and Deception and a sad role model for 2
young girls learning to be women.

When I was 10 I sang in the choir. I met a man named Jesus and
I liked him, I did. He was a pretty righteous dude.
My mom met him too, but I guess he was having a bad day because
her version of him did not seem to smile at me.

When I was 11 I met magic by way of a secret circle and dreams of witches.
My best friend, she and I, I and she. We were
Mystical. Magical. And Free.
We wrote poetry and burned candles. We consulted
spirits and danced in awe of the stars.

At 12 I was happy because my mother was leaving him.
But then my little sister came. I loved her, and Wow.
What magic comes from such misery.
He tried to change
but for me it was. too. late.
When she turned 2, I gave her a plastic wand
tapping her nose and wishing her Love.
My step dad broke it. And me. With harsh words at excessive volumes.

At 13 I lost the One Pure Thing that was Mine to Give.
In the worst possible way.

I cried to the Mother, WHY?!
and on my 14th birthday, the summer before high school
I waded into her waters, heart deep
head just above waves crashing
and cried.
Just. Take. Me.
But She said, NO. You are not finished yet.

My freshman year of high school brought on soul mates old and new.
Deeper insights, bare feet, drumming, Circles and flowers in my hair.
A circle to create love and feel free.
Feel the wind, touch the breeze, hug a tree.

I dug my hands in the dirt and chased rainbows.

One day I came home with a pentacle drawn on my hand
and you’d have thought the sky. had. fallen.
My mother’s Jesus panicked
And reacted with a force.
I finally felt Happy.
But she said, NO. It was the wrong way.
Words like, devil, evil, heathen, satanist and witch, spit off her tongue
like wildfire trying to catch the hem
of my flowered skirt.

So I lied.

To just have peace. However false.
Because I loved her
and wanted to be loved by her.
But there was too much magic that poured
out of me and that JOY could
not be hidden.
One day while away, I “saw” my mother in my bedroom,
finding my secrets.
She called me home
laid out my crystals, spells scrawled on parchment,
books on witchcraft, magic, the Goddess.
She made me sleep on her bedroom floor
while she, my aunt and the pastor of their church
banished the spirits of evil with holy water
and prayed over my tortured soul.
Poor things.

She took me out of school and put me in the church
where the pastor cum psychiatrist desperately tried
to convince me of the devils way
in my heart.
I tried to explain. but they would. not. listen.
So I lied.
I claimed reform.
And I got to go back to school.
But there were private eyes with baseball bats
labeled as reporting teachers and guidance counselors.
Why could they not just let me be.
I made the honor role. I didn’t do drugs.
Who was I hurting?
I left school in the middle of the day and did not go home.
Instead I went to the woods and
spent the night with the stars. It was Samhain.

When I saw my mother 2 days later
she swore I was high
but no, it was much simpler than that.
I was tired of walking in fear’s shadow.
I was reaching out and owning my Truth.
It was a Path of Purity and Light
and it was my RIGHT.
But still she would not could not see it.
I left home 3 more times
before I went to live with my dad.
He saw the poetry in my soul.
Good Goddess, thank you for that man.
But woman. Oh the woman.
What is it with the women who stand in Fear
and Judgement and Persecution.
My stepmother slapped my face
and ransacked my bedroom
claiming black magic in her house.

It didn’t work out so well there.

But still, my father came through.
We lived on the boat
and were happy for awhile
all under the guise of work.
A fisherman’s daughter I was.
But for a marriage’s sake, he let go of me
and I was on my own. I didn’t blame him.

I was 15.

I worked.
I went to school.
I slept on the beach and on rooftops and on the floors
of friends with blessings for parents.
Somehow I made it.
When I was 16 my mother and little sister moved to Colorado.
My step dad’s home state.
She let me move back into my childhood home with my older sister.
My boyfriend came with me
and one year later I was pregnant.
My dad said abort the mission.
But I could not. I could not.
He was scared. I was too.
Because her father was not a soul mate.
I tried. I did. But love cannot be grown on the
outside when there is so much turmoil within.
So he left me. It wasn’t his fault.
But he left her too.

I needed my mother.

So I gave up my Soul and the ocean’s womb
for my mother’s acceptance and warm embrace.
I went to the mountains.
I gave away my books, my crystals, and cards.
I was doing this. All the way.

I should have known the Goddess
would not let me go that easy.

Because when her skin touched my skin
and our eyes met and our hearts beat out
the incredible sound of absolute Love
oh my Child.
With her by my side I would never again question Divinity.
But still. I was young
and the Reclaiming was not done.
I found yoga and was a step closer to remembering but still
Scared. and Lonely.
Because now I was a mother
18 years old, baby at my breast
Yearning. Yearning. For something.

A man found me. Wanting.
With eyes like diamonds and a purr like a kitten
but a kitten he was not.
For an entire year of my precious daughter’s life
I was abused. Used. and in Fear.
When she turned 2, I ran away.
This time I was done hiding.
My best friend came.
My sister.
My supernova.
And we drove.
We lived and loved the open road
in a little old travel camper
called Miss Bliss.
Magic surrounded us.
Beauty fell at our feet in drops of stardust
and I remembered. Everything.
We 3 were creating our destiny.
2 soul friends and an ancient wise woman
in the guide of a toddler.
She led the way and taught us a new kind of freedom.

When the road ended,
another journey began
as is the only way.

As for me and my flower child,
we went back to the ocean
then the mountains
then the forests and rivers
the great redwoods
the volcanic islands
one side of this country to another
up down and then back again
until finally
we found ourselves at the foot
of a mountain of the sun
where the flower was born
and it was 10 years later. A decade
of wings spread.
Here now to dig deep roots
and find a different way to live.

There were more trials.
More flames to walk through.
But with my daughter. My best friend. My soul’s Purpose
and the Goddess inside me, beside me
every step of the way
and now
Settled. Happy. The Mystic. The Yogi. The Woman. The Teacher.
Believing again in Me.

And then one day I came upon a man
with magic in his eyes and feathers in his hair
and decided right then and there
I was gonna marry that man.

And I did.

2 years later. In a castle. In a circle of love
With a fire breathing dragon above our heads.
No, really.
2 gypsies that stopped long enough to find each other
and discover a new path.
One to walk together.

My flower is 16 now, My Daisy.
She takes beautiful pictures. Loves music and dinosaurs
and thinks the sun rises and sets in her little sister’s eyes.
My Leelu, who is 2.
My girls, who have and will grow up differently than I did
as I continue to nurture the Goddess inside of them
while allowing them the freedom to choose their own way.

My girls. We 3, who almost
lost our lives this summer past
when a speeding car
ran through red and crashed~
into the boundaries of
life death and the hearts
of my children.
The Goddess was with us that day
because we lived.
When every other possibility would have said otherwise.
We. Lived.
And I am So tired of only living half way

There is a saying Use it or Lose it.
And my Sisters, it is true.
We must practice the Magic.
We must show the Way.
We must walk the Path.
We must not allow Fear to block Our Truth.
The path to forgetting is not hard
and the road to Remembering is not always easy.
So we must be Strong
We must be Brave
We must Priestess our own Way.

The bliss and blessings
of marriage and motherhood
roots and responsibility
take their own toll on our lives.
We easily get swept up in taking
care of everyone else and the
functions of everyday living.
We forget that there is also the
Spirit and Magic and Mystery
that deserve our attention.

We need our Spirit to shine so
that we are our best
to Priestess ourselves
our family
our world.
We all need ~Remembering Time~

I have not traveled this far to let it go now.

And that Sisters ~ is Why
I stand among you now ~ sharing my story
which is your story which is Her story.
Hands and Hearts joined in this Circle
Of Inspiration. Of Remembrance
That we are Goddesses.
We are
Walking Magic.

re-entering the veil.

I keep coming back here. Thinking that I need to release this space so that I can fully embrace myself and move into another space. The space of my family. The space of my farm. The space of my business. The excuse I keep making is that I can share on my home blog what I can share here. That I should be doing so if I am confident on my Path. But that is just not the truth of the matter. I do embrace my Path, especially lately, feeling very strong in its beauty. I’ve just realized lately, almost as an epiphany, that Dancing with Hecate is space for my inner dialogue. This space is for sharing my fears and my joys of a different kind. Just because you can say anything, anywhere, doesn’t mean you should. This is the space where I can explode into stardust, if need be. This is the space where I can share Ritual. I can also share a soap recipe, or my experiences on my farm, but mostly this space is for my dark. And I’m really feeling my dark right now. Maybe it’s because we’re in such a Crone season. Maybe it’s because I am really feeling myself burn through a lot of old trauma and experience. But I am back. And that doesn’t mean that I will write here all the time, because mostly I am living in it. But when I do want to share, I’ll share it here. Thank you, to all of my Sisters (and Brothers) out there. Because I am really feeling you in my life right now. Thank you for listening. Thank you for being present.

and time goes by…

Things are changing in my life. I have been away for awhile, but you will start to hear from me again. I have writings I’d like to share with you, recorded by pen, waiting to be typed. I thought I didn’t need this anymore, but it turns out I do. I really do. Blessed be, my friends.