The Witch Wound

I recently had someone point a finger at me that was bewildering to my system.

I did a big process with it. I went all the way into the sensation, which felt like blood pooling in the front of my body, causing a destabilization. A wobbling of my ballast. A momentary questioning of my knowing.

So caught off guard I didn’t know which way to turn.

I got that it was similar the witch hunts. Like I was a medicine woman doing my thing when someone close to me turned on me and called me a witch, and then the whole colony started chiming in: witch, witch! And then they burned me at the stake.

This is cancel culture.

This is how it felt with this accusation to my ego. Sort of maddening, unfair, unjust. (Residually, even in this lifetime, I haven't been able to watch movies or shows where people are blamed, tried, and punished for something they didn't do.)

But it really boils down to this terror of being able to hold myself in the face of the energetic pattern of the hysterical, drunk, blood-thirsty, wounded feminine.

I let myself feel it through. The bewilderment.

But the surrender came in understanding that I can surrender to anything. Even death. Because I am eternal.

And what happens when I say, yes, I am a witch. So?

It moves right through me.

This lesson has had to be repeated many times in my life, from women who have cut me off at the knees.

But this time I got it.

I can be cut off at the knees, and I am still all of who I am.

You can’t be cancelled when you own that you are everything.

Yes, I am a whore, a bitch, a cheat, a charlatan, a xxxx-ist (fill in the blank of your choosing).

I am also the polarity of all of those things.

And in that I Am neutral.

I’m willing to accept and alchemize the shadow of anything on behalf of the collective.

I will not point the finger back. I will not name call.

I will fulfill whatever role they have hired me to play from a place of pure unconditional love for their highest becoming. Knowing I’m a divine part of their learning.

Not because I am what they think I am, but because I can honor that that's what they need to see me as through their lens.

I will hold any projection.

And I will bless it all as perfect for my growth and theirs.

The priestess is willing to be called any name in the name of what’s true.

She has no identity, so there is nothing to defend.

She can be called any name because she holds all collective shadows within her, and she denies none of them.

She is open to see what is shown to her through that name-calling. And to see where she participated in the creation of that demonization.

She is willing to be persecuted in the name of not rescuing another's victim consciousness.

She is not victimized by another's persecution.

She is willing to hold any projection.

She stays home when reality is questioned and opens to the sensation by standing still. And going within.

Rather than fighting, fleeing, or folding.

Which grounds her further in reality.

She honors the human sensations of grief, rage, and terror by opening to them in rapture.

But she knows they are not her.

She is the conductor of the energy.

The alchemizer.

She is the house of instant forgiveness.

She celebrates all who trigger these reactions inside her body as the gift.

She is the great space-holder for All That Is.

She teases out the spiritual lesson and becomes more from those who would try to make her less.

Because she sees them as perfectly playing the role for which she has hired them by soul contract for her highest growth.

And so, in a cosmic bow, she thanks them for their divine service.

This is the power of divine neutrality.

This is the power of the priestess.

In Reverence,
Steffie