A Woman’s word.

We women love to talk… so “they” say… We gossip… apparently. We use our words to cut another woman down… well… we can. Our words, our expression of self, our offerings to the world and each other… what are they really worth? We hear the term “A Man’s Word is his bond” What is a Woman’s word?

I have a golden rule,

“If it’s not said to my face it doesn’t count.”

If there is a real issue, to be spoken to, then best speak to me direct, otherwise all you are doing is collecting ego strokes if you are complaining to someone else about blah blah…

This is perhaps a bit harsh, but it’s the way I choose to function, in it’s core is “what other people think (or say) about me is none of my business”. It free’s me from worrying about any of it. For I can meet most things, in the moment, as it’s felt and experienced, but if you take something away with you, stew on it, chew it up a bit, mess it all about, then come up with a new and improved version of what was said… how am I responsible for that… as in how am I able to respond?

I am learning to take this all the way in…

“To thine own self be true, and as sure as night follows day you can be false to no other” Shakespeare.

…and choose those words used on the inside to support the woman unfolding in new and loving power, that has yet to be fully unfurled, rather than list the thousands of reasons the world is not ready for a “profitable business sharing blood wisdom” as “The Universe” puts it.

I am exploring a new state of word, a lyrical state, were words arrive in rhyme without intending them too… have you been here? For me this is hooked in/feeling with the sacred flow kind of state, that words seem to “order” themselves around the flow. Please leave a comment if you have felt this.

I’m not sure if we need a similar phrase to “a man’s word as his bond”… for me though, a woman’s word is her sword, to cut down, or cut free… tis always our choice!

To share the words…

This morning I process the feelings that would stand in my way to stand up in front of you.. an audience.. perhaps not this one, unless you can be in Melbourne at Mother Tongue tomorrow night.. but a real live audience to make my offering. I’ve been chewing on it for weeks, even when the words are not in front of me, I have had them digesting within me.

I rarely consider myself a poet. A witch, an orator, a teacher, yes… but not normally a poet… even spoken word artist doesn’t distance itself enough from that state that says…  Poet … How dare I consider myself a poet? The tirade is endless… and yet I must have found the end as I am going to step up and out into the world of poetry.

well… mostly… I am kinda cheating… well, not really cheating, just representing the WHOLE of me and my conjuring with words.

For me Witchcraft has always been a religion of Poetry not Theology!

There is a point to all this sharing of words.. We create our reality as we speak our words, as we share our perspectives, as we make our offerings. Tis why I blog, why I teach… To share the words that burn their way through to the other side of me, to be made real, sharing what I feel to be my truth, in this instance… knowing it will shift and change… thus the beauty of the digital age, where we are not contained by the page, but have an edit feature.

I will leave you with but one little taste…

This is my Blood… in Words.
Words….
What are their value? What do they cost… cost us?
To use.. to share.. to rid ourselves of the fear, the self loathing…
to purge that knowing that we may well be mad…
Deepen the meaning, the value and no longer do we have so much blah blah blah…
Thoughts… Words… Acts… and Deeds.
These are some of the tools of creation…
Thoughts that push forward and hold us teetering at an edge.. daring us to complete nakedness of self that we may shed anything between ..
between the words…
between the worlds…
we are the veil that we pierce with our sight…

 

I do hope I get to see you tomorrow night!