readings

Poetry

― Lucy H. Pearce

Medicine Woman: Reclaiming the Soul of Healing -

“It may be the first day of your life, the prime of youth or several decades in, when Medicine Woman calls you. Your name on her list. Her new initiate. She crept in whilst you were sleeping, when you over-exerted, when you kissed him, or ate that, or lived there or pushed too hard just one time too many. She crept in and curled up in your cells, your heart, waiting to meet you. Longing to know you. Longing for you to know her, at last.
And what feels like the end is in fact a beginning, of a new road, an unknown path of pain and healing. She will show you how to slow down, she will run her fingers roughly through your life and help you sort the busyness from what matters, she will show you how to find support… and who you really are, beyond your roles and expectations… and even more beyond the System the world has forced you into. She transports you into the timelessness of big pains and tiny joys. Initiates you into your strength. Into your love. Into your courage. Into a world beyond your control.
She has sent me an invitation. I see yours too, tucked in your bag, amongst all the receipts and bills, the pens and detritus of life. Take it out.
It is time.” 

_Lucy H Pearce 

Sisters of the Deep Waters and Making Space by Lucy Pierce

“I am making space.

I am making a space within which I am enough, in and of myself.

A space with an edge beyond which I end and you begin.

I am making space in rejection of the belief

that there is not room enough for me to exist,

for me to shine and storm,

to inconvenience and disrupt,

to radiate and transform.

I am reaching in through the flesh and the sinew,

I am pulling on bones, stretching out muscles,

making room within for all that I was born to be.

I am being stretched and wrung,

squeezing out all that is not love,

all that would keep me small,

all that would have me believe that I am not enough.

I am wrestling out the voice that would tell me

that I am only safe in the inbetween spaces of dark matter.

I am making space for me to birth myself into being.

I am making space in my pelvis

so that the three million year old woman

can come to rest there,

and guide my every step from her ancient womb.

I am making space in my heart

for a thousand orgasmic blossoms to bloom,

ecstatically fragrant,

thunderously robust,

exquisitely tender.

I am making space in defiance of the story

that I am a worthy receptacle for other people’s pain,

the contract that I make with them to take them into myself

and have them seek their healing through me.

No more! I am making space and I give you back to yourself.

I am making space in order that when I travel out

to the far reaches of the cosmos

a part of me stays close to home,

to hold my self worth by the hearth fire

with the Grandmothers,

not allowing me to take all of me, all the way out there,

in search of the loving boundary

for the small, waiting child within me,

because in this space that I have made for myself

I know that I am loved and infinitely lovable, and here I am safe.

I am making a space with an edge

through which I can filter your opinion of me,

so that even if you don’t like me, I can still like myself.

I am making space for the fierce Mumma roar,

the ancient wild protectress,

who is unshakable in her mercy

for the vulnerable and the innocent,

for the unloved and the wounded.

I am making space in my throat

for the full bodied blooming of my song,

the voice of my power to meet the world

unbound and free,

blossoming and bold.

I am making space for vision to be received,

and for the will to enact the call of what I know to be true,

I am making space so that the gap between

my vision and my actioning is seamless,

because there is space to say Yes to what is mine to give

and I am answerable to none but the ancient lore of life.

I am making space for the blood to flow,

and to be reclaimed by the land

and to receive the ancient lineage of my dream speak

through the precious thread of my moon time,

and to drink deep of the Earth,

primal, raw and sensual.

I am making space to swell and to undulate,

to unravel and enfold,

to dance and to sing,

to sleep and to dream,

to love and to play.

I am making a space where I am sovereign queen,

from here I do not give myself away,

from here I am whole,

from here there is time and space for me.

I am making space to hold my tender, frightened child

with such a fierce authority of love,

I am making the space to take responsibility for myself,

and my unmet need so that I can set my loved ones free.

I am making space to suckle from the stars,

the sweet milk of vision and mystery

and the ancient story of our belonging.

I am making space to let the Earth mate with the Cosmos,

in sacred union,

through the holy passage of my body

I am making space for my ancestors to shudder through my bones,

their raucous No to all that does not serve my purest becoming,

and their Yes to that which gently opens

a clean fold of being

that will serve all of our futures.”