When my grandmother died, my mother and I heaved a sigh of relief. The torture of her existence was over. We could now begin the labor of excavating her hidey-hole of 52 years. That work was hard. My grandmother was a borderline hoarder. But, a weight was lifted. My mother, especially, sprang into action, finalizing the burial, the house sale, and the distribution of the “estate” in just three short months. She was a woman on a mission, perhaps to get as far away from that part of her life as fast as she could. Though she’s been a grown-ass woman for many a long year, and hadn’t lived at home since she was eighteen, there were still those energetic tethers between Mother and Daughter that are binding—for better, or for worse.

She wasn’t a bad person, my grandmother. She had lived through tremendous traumas: the death of her father, the abandonment of her mother, sexual abuse, and malnutrition, to name a few. Those pain points were authentic. When she discovered The Sauce it was probably such sweet respite from her internal experience that I certainly don’t begrudge her desire to chase that distance. At some point—and likely rather quickly—she opted for prostituting her pain in service to her addiction in a cycle that wouldn’t end until her life did.

The decisions my grandmother made for her own life have had far reaching consequences for all those touched by her—not least of which, and certainly not exclusively, her descendants. This from a woman so trapped by her trauma, feeling so powerless in the face of what Life offered, and yet she held the most power in the entire family, despite her illusions.

After she passed, I knew the time had come to opagi for my Hanbleceya—my vision quest. I went to go sit on “The Hill” and cry for a vision. Though that was two years ago, the pieces are still coming together. But, much of what is shared here came through during that ceremony. I spent one whole day feeling my body open up like a hollow bone for my mother’s grief to wash through. Not necessarily the grief for the passing of her mother, but so much grief and pain for the life that had been lived, for the pain inflicted on those around my grandmother and in her care, for the endless cycles of abuse, and for the ways that Grandma’s pain kept regenerating itself through her addiction. As an egg that was created in my grandmother’s body as she was creating the body of my mother, I saw how one woman’s trauma ripples through the generations, both before her and after her. And, I saw how one woman bringing consciousness and compassion to these cycles can help to break the chains, and start the healing for her family, and all of humanity.

This personal story felt so much like a metaphor for the Feminine at large, for the collective Her-Story (if you will). For thousands of years, women—as a whole—have been abused and undervalued. We have been bought, sold, and traded like chattel. We have been forced to get creative with our manipulation in order to survive, and we have had to separate ourselves from our own feelings, wants, and desires for our own lives, just to stay alive. Many women, feeling ultimately powerless, have turned to addiction and perpetrated their own abuse in the wake of this victimhood.

But, times they are a-changin’!

If you are a younger woman reading this, you might be just the third generation of woman allowed to earn her own money—and you might still be the first. If you are living in America, it has only been around 40 years that you have been allowed to have your own line of credit, buy a house, or own a car without a man’s cosignature. Despite having opportunities to have a job outside the home, only certain careers were available to women until this current generation—and we still face discrimination in many fields.

All of this is to say that there is still healing work to be done. In fact, maybe the healing has only just begun.

I remember when I first started working with Erwan Davon Teachings for relationship coaching, and he told the class that it was the woman’s responsibility (in a healthy man/woman dynamic) to initiate sexaul interaction, feeling exasperated and resistant to that notion. Of course, my mom had always taught me that, in nature, the woman does the choosing, but I couldn’t yet see how that applied here, and damn it! I just really didn’t want to. I didn't want the burden of that responsibility! As the woman, I do so much, I don’t want to have to take on even more! But, as the years have moved on, I have come to have a deeper understanding of what he meant with that statement.

In Tantra we are taught about the interplay of Masculine and Feminine energy, how to marry the two in our own bodies, and how to best use these forces for the Good of Life. The Feminine is like the navigator of our ship, and the Masculine is like the engine. She has the desire, and the broader scope of vision to make the request and set the course. He has the singular focus and the drive to get us there. It takes both to bring a creation to fruition. She is receptive, and He is penetrating. She carries The Heat. She generates the desire. He feels that call, and takes action to fulfill. 

In the story of my grandmother, she was too entrenched in the story of her victimhood to see that this dynamic was playing out despite all her feelings of powerlessness. My grandfather, and all those around her, were bending to her will and her desire, whether or not she had the eyes to see it. The power that inherently belongs to The Feminine was hers to wield as she willed, whether or not she recognized it. This is the way for all of Womankind. When such a force is blind to its own power, it is dangerous for all involved. Despite over 5,000 years of trying, Man will never be able to take up the reins that belong to The Woman. It’s just biology, Baby.

As we begin to heal the divide between the sexes in the world around us, how do these dynamics play out in our own lives? Maybe you are a champion for equal rights and female empowerment on the outside, but how do you really feel about The Feminine on the inside? Do you value your internal cycles? Do you have love for your multiple directions? Do you have the space to change your mind mid-course? Are you capable of receiving? Do you value your desires? Are you able to digest those desires when they are presented, and do you have gratitude for The Masculine when he delivers?

Sometimes we have so much disdain for our internalized Feminine that we can’t stand it when our creative cycles require down time. We chide the ebb and flow, wishing instead for constancy. Sometimes there is so much anger toward The Masculine that we cannot move forward, and take action, on our desires in and for our own life. Exploring this topic of Feminine Leadership is recognizing firstly where we actually stand. How do you really feel about these parts of yourself? How do you actually feel? What do you want in this moment? Do you feel capable of asking for that?

It is OK if you don’t know what you want. That is great information! It is also OK if you don’t feel comfortable asking others for help with what you desire. Maybe you feel you need to do it all yourself. That is great information, too! This work of healing the divide and exploring Feminine Leadership is a practice. It’s been a long time since we held those reins with any clarity. It will take a minute to get the hang of it again.

We are now in The Time of The Woman. So, how are you going to play it? Will you resist your responsibility of leadership, and insist on your victimhood? Or, will you accept your power, and act for equality? It takes two to tango. This planet won’t find balance in her dance with humans until we find that balance inside of—and with—ourselves.