September 19, 2016

Meeting the Healthy Masculine within Myself. {Adult}



Who would have thought that the key to my awakening lay in my meeting the healthy masculine within myself?

For the past few years I have engaged with and facilitated woman’s circle work as often as possible—diving deeply into my womb and remembering how to listen to her voice, immersing myself in the sacred feminine in the sanctity of the red tent. In these spaces I have been exposed to mild yet powerful female Tantric practices. The power of the Red Tent to awaken and provide women a safe space to let go, to release, to be with herself is immense. But the story I have to tell is not a Red Tent story; it is a story about a man and a woman.

“What is the healthy masculine?” I set off to discover the answer.

Thus began my quest into the unknown, my journey of healing.

When I met this man I recognized him instantly, but was unable to keep two feet on the ground. The power of his magnetism was electric, my yoni called out for him longingly, juicily; she wanted to be filled. My mind translated the juicy, sparkling nervous chemistry into a chatter of questions and sexual images, which distracted me from the words he was sharing with me—teaching me about oils.

My desire to create with him was overpowering.

Thankfully I was brave—no longer stilling my voice. I revealed myself and my mischievous mind to this man and he revealed himself to me—I met myself in him as he met me unconditionally, in all my chaos, my nerves a jumble.

“Enter the space of pure potential,” he said.

The storm within me lifted as I was flooded by his stillness, and his stillness awoke mine.

Lightning bolts and ripples of passion rose through my body, yet the silence enfolded me from deep within my being.

To truly meet the healthy, sacred Masculine in another is to meet it within oneself.

With his divine masculine alive within me, I am free to allow my desires to move and direct me—I am safe, I am held.

I am protected by the masculine within me, who dwells in an eternal state of stillness even while in full warrior action. This is the masculine whose little boy playfully jokes and laughs at the feminine’s inner creative chaos, and magnetizes the truth into form.

I have rarely met a man in whom I recognize the healthy masculine, but when I met him I recognized him as a hunter of the truth, not a hunter of woman’s creativity. He did not seek to possess, yet he provided, protected and embraced without compromising his own wellbeing.

We may find that the feminine within him is in need of maturing. We may find his divine feminine is lacking emotional prowess with graceful ability and fearless openheartedness. It truly does take time and practice for the masculine and feminine to learn how to trust one another, even within the most conscious human.

So I am a mirror—a conscious mirror, a woman, embodied healthy feminine in a dance with a man, embodied healthy masculine—a conscious mirror himself.

Last night we chatted for some time; then he held me.
We lay together under the blankets skin to skin.
He lay beneath me,
I with my ear to his heart,
his cheek—
My creative feminine danced, and sparkled, and breathed in his stillness—and I mean stillness; he lay still,
peaceful and content, eyes closed, cosmic smiling within.
I drank deeply his silence and a calm and peace permeated my being,
even my sparkles existed in silent stillness—like twinkling stars in the dark night sky.

I am presence, pure unadulterated potential; rippling, undulating creativity and ripe and fertile silence—
No expectation, no rejection; only myself, only presence, freedom, being.

Last night in the sacred space created when man and woman meet I shed the false eyelashes of the lover, I began to wipe off the manner and make-up I’ve worn my whole life that defined me as a woman-worthy-of-love.

When I looked at myself in the mirror of the healthy masculine;
I found myself, and the depth of being healthy feminine—awakening dakini—body of desire.

Author: Lauren Amy Hofmeyr

Image: Twitter

Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock

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