Darling,

I have to be honest. Motherhood absolutely overwhelmed me.
From the first moment I pushed my baby out, I was absolutely overwhelmed with love, with worry, with fear, with responsibility.
I remember the first night after I gave birth to her in the hospital and everyone suggested that I leave her in the nursery so I could sleep. But all I could think of was her crying without me, and I went careening down the hall to collect her and bring her back to my room, as I was unable to bear the thought of her feeling alone and unprotected.
Where the placenta left off, I took over.

This baby brought out my fierce. My righteousness. My determination. My unwillingness to fail. My stubbornness. My ambition.

When my marriage ended a few years later, this little girl brought out a power I did not know I possessed and had me develop a part of myself that never ever would have engaged otherwise–my immovable resolve to stand for women in a deeper way than I had ever stood, and stand for my daughter in a more powerful way than was my known-to-me nature.

I had been a kind of hippie chick, taking longer than usual to find myself.
But, the luxury of failure, half-assed or quasi, was vanquished by this child. And the purity of single purpose took over.

I had no time to dwell in self-doubt.
There was a world of women who were being crushed by that habit, and I knew that that my job was to live in, and lead, the antidote.

What habit?
The habit of self-doubt.  It is as vicious and virulent as a virus.
When you stand in front of a mirror and hate your thighs, or wonder if you are pretty enough to get the guy you want or smart enough to get the job you want, guess what?  You transmit that to your daughters, your girlfriends, your colleagues.

Self-doubt is a psychically transmitted disease.
You catch it by being in the same room with a woman who doubts herself.
And I was (and am) determined to vanquish this condition in my lifetime.
We cannot waste another woman in self-doubt.
Women are far too precious.

So…my inner masculine was fired up and stoked in order to protect and ensure the growth of all this feminine I was responsible for.
Thousands and thousands of women, one small girl.
But…as all of you know, when a woman lives inside all that strong, virile, productive masculine energy, it can drain the life force out of her.
Especially when there are no strong masculine arms to lean into or stand for her.

I know so many women who have given up the soul of their feminine in order to do exactly what I did–raise a child or children on their own.
I know so very many women who find themselves working in a field that is dominated by a masculine culture that forces them to abandon their feminine and adopt all of the aspects and characteristics of the masculine.
So many women have to sacrifice the softest, sweetest, most delectable, delicious, sensual aspects of who they are in order to climb the corporate ladder, or get noticed for a raise or promotion, or receive the recognition they deserve.

I did not want to lose touch with a part of myself. And sometimes I would.
So I had to teach myself through serious trial and big-time error exactly how to create balance within, while managing so much without. Not just for myself, but for Maggie.
I was supposed to be her mother. Not her father.

When my masculine was on overdrive, there was no soft spot for her to land.
I became all about getting her where she needed to go on time, but not at all about connecting to her soul, or resonating with her feelings.
My feelings were among the things that got sacrificed.
And that was no good for either of us.

So, I developed a little ritual that I would do, every day, to slide myself into the sweet sexy waters of the divine feminine in me. I had to feed her, cultivate her, or she would dehydrate and die. And I want to share some of my rituals and practices with you, here, in hopes that they will help you locate, feed and nurture your feminine energy.

The feminine needs to be fed, like a fire. Or she will extinguish.
Stop feeding her?
She withers. Which makes a woman feel just awful.  Inside and outside.
And we simply can’t have that, my sister.

1.      I wake up before my daughter, at least 30 minutes earlier, so I can have that time for me.  I light candles, put on some music, and dance naked, stretching and caressing and awakening my beautiful body.  During this time, I am connecting to my emotions.  So, if I am pissed, I dance pissed.  If I am tired, I dance tired, if I am ecstatic, I dance ecstatically.  And so on.  This requires a great music mix that reflects my diverse emotions.

2.      The second dance is a dance of desire.  I dance and imagine all that I desire for the day, for my life, for my family, for the world.

3.      I sit at my altar and spend time doing gratitudes for everyone and everything in my life.  Whether I feel like it or not.  By the end I feel like it.

4.      I dress hot.  It helps so much.

5.      I end every night with a bath.  Epsom salts.  Lavender oil.  Candles.  No matter how late I get home, no matter what, I slide into that tub.

In the comments section below, let me know if you  share my experience of dealing with the masculine in overdrive. And let me know what kind of rituals or practices you use to connect to your feminine energy.  How do you keep your lamp lit? Your home fires burning?

We are all in this, together.

With so much love & pleasure,