A short love note.
I trust you know that you are on my mind always.
Behind the scenes we are joyfully developing what comes next in my universe.
For now, I have a small offering for you, in the spirit of the feminine leader initiated.
Do you remember theÂ Gospel of Feminine Leadership? It’s a three-part series* offering 108 pearls for the balance of the feminine. It’s so vitalÂ that we thought we’d put them all together, easily compiled for your inspiration.
Wild love always,
Just click aÂ button below to download your preferred format, PDF or PNG.
My dear readers, my people, my tribe,
It has been weeks now that you have not heard from me.
This is not because I havenâ€™t been thinking of you.
I think of you all the time.
It is a time of peeling my old skins.
And the female grail has become a skin to peel.
My inner voice told me: Put the female grail on sabbatical.
My responsible online-world self said: You cannot do this. Itâ€™s counterproductive.
My grand soul weighs in: This is feminine creation.
When we transform into another dimension, silence is our master.
At least for me.
My creative rivers go underground and dream.
But I want to let you know.
I am working on my ideas in the background
while I weave through the many radical changes in my life:
selling La Lumiere
applying for an American Visa
So I have to let go of writing to you for awhile.
I am thinking in new dimensions.
I am your guide to these new dimensions.
And I will come back, when my skin is peeled and anew,
with newfound words.
In the meanwhile, Iâ€™ll see you on Facebook.
I love you always.
A story about the transparency of life.
A new way of reflecting on dying.
My great-grandmother on my motherâ€™s side was my teacher of life. She was our rock in the storms, a shelter of care. She was 83 when she died, having no signs of disease or sickness. She was simply ready to go. She had fulfilled her lifeâ€™s work. So her body weakened visibly, and within two weeks it was ready to let her go.
I was 17. I was there 10 minutes before she died. She was shaking herself into a trance and I listened to her murmuring, â€śMama, yes, I will pack my luggage and come home.â€ť I felt her Mum waiting for her in the other world. I left the room and started my homework for the next day while the family stayed with her.
Soon after my Mum opened the door: â€śGranny is dead.â€ť
As I walked up the stairs slowly it came to my consciousness that she was gone. I would not see her again. I froze as I realized she was truly dead. In this very moment, a wave of light embraced me and held me motheringly. She was standing behind me, full of radiant light. She comforted me: â€śI am not dead; I am alive.â€ť Indeed, she was vibrating with life.
For years she came to me in my dreams, teaching me things and giving me advice when I was desperate. My sister was 9 years old when Granny died but she never cried, not even at the funeral or when her body was given back to the earth, forever unreachable to us. I never asked my sister about that, thinking maybe she was too young to realize. One evening when my sister was 16, we had an evening alone. In bed before falling asleep I asked her, â€śWhy didnâ€™t you ever cry when Granny died?â€ť
â€śBecause she was with me all the years after. She played with me every day.Â She never left me.â€ť Believe me, I bowed to my little sister for her young wisdom and connection to the transparency of life.
A new way of reflecting on being born.
17 years later I was in the ashram in India amid a thousand people, and my Granny came to me. â€śI am going to be born again,â€ť she wanted me to know.
â€śNot to me please, Granny.â€ť I said.
â€śNo, no I will be born to â€¦ (a friend of mine).â€ť
My friend had an appointment to be sterilized and became pregnant three days before. I learned this upon my return from India. I did not tell her what I knew and just enjoyed her belly growing with this beautiful soul inside who was always flirting with me. My friend asked me to be the godmother, because the baby wished it. It was time to lay the cards on the table.
Later my friend invited me to the birth. I had a tight schedule and only had three days free around when the birth was expected. My friend called me and said the girl had told her the day of her birth, and we trusted the message from the baby from heaven.
And so I was there the day that she was born again. I witnessed her light coming into this babyâ€™s body, being born in a conscious return to earth with a plan for her soul. She was just waiting to come out and open her arms to embrace us and life again. She had made sure I was there to meet her where she left me.
My great-grandmother has become my teacher about life and death. She didnâ€™t teach me through theory; she taught me by dying and living again.
I have learned that you do not need to meditate your whole life to encounter and make the transit of death. Nature knows. You simply need to live your life fully.
Nature brought you into this life when you where born; she will bring you back to the world of light where you once came from.
You may take courage in the face of the unknown.
We are here to share a limited time of togetherness and a story we only live once. Share it fully. Fight for love and for the presence to encounter all we have.
Give it all.
Written with my deepest love for my great-grandmother.
And for you.
For a new way of reflecting on life.
Itâ€™s not pain.
Itâ€™s a burning seed of your future.
Hereâ€™s what I believe:
We are about to create a new world.
New leaders are rising from the unknown,
having long incubated their Destiny.
Does your heart feel like itâ€™s burning?
Does it burst into your thoughts?
What we know from experience doesnâ€™t always help us to identify whatâ€™s happening for us. Particularly now that the new creation is the energy.
Our Inner Child wounds from the past float on the surface of our realization. But they do not speak for us anymore. Beyond them, in wiser and deeper parts of ourselves, we find our promise.
Every wound is a teacher; there lies wide expansion there for us.
What I see, I saw and did.
I woke up to see gold in my heart, in many other hearts. My universal existence and my soul dream packaged in a small condensed seed. It feels like golden stardust, exclusive and luxurious.
Because I was open to my mystic self, I knew this was not pain to lose myself in. It was the labor of my heart chakras giving birth to my soulâ€™s visions. The dreams died, the ethereal took form. When we have done our preparations, we are ready.
Healing comes at very station of the crossroads to unite the sacred, while drama boosts trauma. What is calling is this: new leaders are giving birth to their visions. Therein lie thousands of opportunities to create the future with their destiny.
So you have a seed in your heart too?
There is no way to avoid the labor pain. Walk through your pain. Ask your seed, â€śWhat am I giving birth to?â€ť
If you are not so deeply connected to yourself, no worries. Just do what is in front of you. Your soul sends you fragments and, like a thread, you must weave them together to create the fabric of the future.
How I do it?
It is not easy. But your future is in your heart.
If it gets too painful, lean back and breathe. Just breathe into the golden seed of the future.
As we face new creation there is no right or wrong way, only ways that inspire us to take a hint and find our own solutions.
I let the pain move in freely when it comes.
I ask my heart to flow out and then I flow the creation to wherever it leads me.
Then I do not search for results, but for creation.
We need leaders in all corners in the world, opening up new solutions for change. We need them working locally and globally. Define your orbit. Your new visions will fill it in.
First stop and feel: what is my inflamed heart really about?
Itâ€™s not about having more to do.
Stand for it. Collect it.
The rest is on its way.
The future leaders will lead with their hearts.
Open wide. Open your wings.
How to know if you belong to my tribe.
Her hair stood on end when she read Women Who Run With The Wolves. She knew Clarissa Pinkola Estes was talking about her; that someone out in the world knew her deepest secrets. She had kept herself hidden because she thought the world would not like her.
Itâ€™s true: her wildness was understood by nature, and she was untamed by society. Rules were alien to her. She didnâ€™t need much from the tamed world because in nature, healing finds itself. She trusted her truth more than anything she was taught.
That hidden-away woman, she was me.
And maybe she is you too.
In spite of fears, misunderstandings, and wrong beliefs, this wild woman inside is not dangerous. Despite the protestations of the socially-conforming cells in my body, I know in my bones that my fierce inner wolf woman will guide teamwork of deep recognition, sharing, and cooperation among those who resonate with me and my vision. She will grow my leadership so that I may network eye-to-eye with powerful leaders in the world.
She is essence-relationship oriented and has an appreciation for playfulness.
She is loyal and immovable.
She threatens the status quo.
She is awakened because the crisis calls for her wisdom.
She is wary; she believes that when she outs herself, she is in danger.
But that is an illusion.
But she is not in danger anymore.
To the contrary, my wolf woman is a powerful leader.
I know that many of you are wolf women too, because you love what I write.
I asked her to teach me the signs of her presence so that I may share them with you.Â But you may also follow the trail and discover the signs of the wolf woman within you.
The wolf woman is a natural being.
She feels you and smells you instantly.
She intuits who you are. She knows your nature and will keep a distance if you do not resonate.
She will not tolerate fakes or distorted essences.
The woman who runs with the wolves is a future leader of humanity.
The time has come that I cannot stop dreaming of her.
She hunts through my nights and I feel her fur in my daydreams. She feels good.
She is tuned into using leadership as her contribution to the new world rising. She is the one who wakes me in the middle of the night, urging to me to give name and write down the dreams that are growing in my belly.
Are you alert to the signs of the wolf woman in you?
Her signs are:
: She trusts her first thought.
She is willing to keep working on me until I regain my animal instinct.
She is the one who knows in her bones. She sniffs out the false and real essences.
So many times I overruled my first thought, and I paid an expensive price each time.Â When my inner wolf woman reared up against a person, my cultivated mind suppressed the instinct: â€śCome on, you again? Youâ€™re always so complicated, you are always too much.â€ť Then came the more dangerous part: my mind and socialized conditioning persuading me to play nice. â€śGive the person a chance,â€ť said the voice. But it was clear already: my first thought was already a clear no.
Iâ€™ve also gone the other direction: disregarding my cultivated persona and listening deeply to my wolf woman. Once I woke up sweaty in the middle of the night after a sticky salesman promised to make my book an overnight success. That night I knew it was not right. I just waited in my bed, shivering from the knowing of all times in my bones. The first moment it was a good time to make a call, I picked up my phone. â€śYou are out of the contract. No discussion, just because my wolf woman is not dâ€™accord.â€ť I did it again when I found myself saying to someone else, â€śWe need to end our collaboration because I do not feel good with you.â€ť
: She listens with her sixth sense.
She pays attention to natureâ€™s reactions. When the animals around her get nervous, she listens. To the dog that barks, the birds that fly apart, the plants and natureâ€™s silence. She listens.
A woman came to my house as a potential buyer. When she arrived I could feel her and the friendly neighbor dog was barking. I knew then she was not my buyer, before I even saw her: the dog had informed me. When I showed her the garden my plants looked away. I felt it. My wolf woman knew. Of course she did.
Believe me, a thousand times I misunderstood my wolf woman and thought I was just neurotic. Since I listen to my inner nature, I know. She guided me into a duality of expressions where the fabric of life pulsates.
I want to be her, my wolf woman, and she me.
So at home in her wildness, breaking down compromised fences.
She in her essence is wild. She is full of open empathy.
She is internalized in me, and I listen to her core. Still, she gets closer to me.
She teaches me to pay the price when I ignore her. She breathes loudly, so she cannot be ignored.
: She wants to see the truth, so it appears. And she gets aggressive when truth is compromised.
She has a second sight. She can see a second layer overlaying the material reality before her. This second sight shows up like a piece of gauze draped over people who are pretending to be something they are not.
Her inner world resonates earlier than her mind. Her skin freezes in the presence of falseness.
When I am centered in my nature, often things appear as if under a second skin. It can be a layer imprinted from former times upon a landscape, or people who appear to have a mask.
I donâ€™t judge it anymore; I am curious about this particular expression of myself. Now I listen when my skin hurts, and I allow myself to be aggressive with certain people. I dare to feel my instinct.
It is not about judging people, but finding the sacred resins that create common visions, the nobility of great togetherness among kindred spirits. It smiles through me. And when that happens, itâ€™s always good. Like the virtual assistant that agreed to work with me, and my sense of being felt like golden warm honey streaming through my veins, or the melting together with people in a collective, uncompromised expression of â€śYES, we want this.â€ť It is so clear.
I am writing this because I am calling you, wolf women.
I have missed you for so long.
Rise up and dream so you may develop all you need to lead the future.
She is near.
How Wolves Change Rivers
She is the healing of the ecosystem. In our society, in our bodies, in our minds.
And take heart: if you donâ€™t feel called by the wolf women, you may be a deer woman, one of Mary Magdaleneâ€™s tribe.
Or you may belong to my sistersâ€™ tribes, among the buffalo women MaRa.
Each tribe has her own distinctive and revolutionary leadership style.
They are all needed.
I needed to write this out of my speechlessness. It made light fall onto my heart.
Just write a note to me, please.
If itâ€™s true, tell me, â€śYes, I am a wolf woman and I know you are there.â€ť