The Queen Archetype: The Feminine Fuel & Fire to Get it Done.

I'm f*cking overwhelmed. There's not really a prettier way to put it. 

There’s so much happening, now. It's all blooming--my garden is damp with lush magnolias, honeysuckle, blood red roses and all the seeds I planted last season. It's all beautiful, it's the amazing sh*t that I have wanted since forever. Getting my master's degree, diving deep into mysticism, a new love, a book of poetry. And I'm grateful. So grateful. 

I worked for it all. 

But my lap is so full that there are moments I feel stretched thin and want to cry, perhaps crumbling into pieces that would crash onto the cool tile of my kitchen floor. 

And I am scared to even admit this, because it feels like we never really talk about how overwhelming beautiful things can be. That would be complaining, right? But maybe it's just honesty. Something that needs to be said so we can be set free. 

Because it's not just pain that can feel like 'too much' but it's beauty, love, vivacious life, laughter, too. Anything can feel overwhelming, and that's okay. 

And maybe these sweet drop-like blessings feel especially overwhelming, moving, almost unbelievable, like something we read in the newspaper, uncertain of the truth of it if we have known pain oh-so-intimately.

We don't know if we can trust it. 

And right now, I don’t know how to hold it all. I fear I am too fragile, too exhausted, already burned out. Already? 

But this---this says it all: I don't know if I can hold it all. 

“You don’t have to” is what I hear, immediately, from some distant, wise part of me, from the air. 

I don’t have to.

It is not about holding.

I've held everything my entire life. 

And now---


I can set it all down. I can breathe spaciousness into absolutely everything. 

And now, it's bout the incredible lightness of being, not of the heaviness of holding everything together with shaking hands and a bottle of Elmer's glue. 

It is already together.

The process of creating is freedom, is wind, is wildness, is insanely pleasurable. It requires a lot of me, all that I am taking on, but it is not a burden. It is a delicious luxury that drips in my mouth like the sweetest honey with a hint of spicy cayenne. And yes, I fear the sweetness. 

But I can handle it. 

And I don't have to worry about having enough energy. The energy is there, it pulses by my feet, endless fire that I source from the earth. The energy I discovered when I was barely holding on, way back then. 


Here's the shift of the century...

I get to enjoy it. I get to taste it, blaze in it, draw it closer and deeper, love it, live in it, breathe with it—

This is such a different approach.

Because it's such a different life. 

And right now, at the golden height of summer---it's the season of the Queen. 

She glimmers, she is hot and sticky, she is fiery and solid. She is a lion, regal and proud. 

She knows. 

She is roaring, yet contained within herself. She knows how powerful she is. 

She is wise in spending her energy. 

She will not subject herself to unnecessary suffering.

She is no victim. Yet, she is not the rising either---she knows she is something bigger altogether. No molds can fit her, she cracks them all with the infinity of her wild, centered power. 

And I sit with her. 

And I see

I don’t have to hold the world together.

I am the world.

And the world, the earth, the sky, holds me.

I hold it, only in that I embrace it, eternally. 

I am divine. There are portals, universes, and sealed vials of wondrous medicine inside of me. 

There are galaxies in my hips and rubies born to pour out of my lips. 

I am not made to be small. 

And this doesn’t make me special. 

It makes me human. 

It makes me like everyone, as we are tender, and hugely expansive at once. 

It makes me a woman who knows how wildly wonderful that is. 

And so I bow, and I rise, at the same time. And it feels just right. 

I set it all down--smile, shake a little. 

And I get to it. 

I blaze




Because, says every tree and blade of grass outside my office window:




When I am brave enough to get out of the way,

There is wind that dances on my cheeks and strokes my hair, there is swirling, there are words, there is electricity

And what shocks me is this: 

It is effortless.

So I know that this...this is the way. 

Because it's f*cking time. 


Photo: Maxpixel