Rain, rain and more rain…we’ve been lucky so far: the power has stayed on.
My partner is out there digging trenches trying to keep the water out of the barn and lean-to where all our firewood is stacked. While he is battling the storm, worrying about it, the exact opposite is true for me: I feel strangely comforted by this weather. Mind you, I am also choosing to be inside and do what I love to do, writing, while witnessing at the same time the beautiful intensity of these storms.
I don’t know why but I have loved the sound of rain and wind for as long as I can remember. As a child the sound of the rattling of the shutters, the drumming of the rain combined with the cozy warmth of being tucked in under a mountain of feathers, made me feel somehow safe as if in a womb hearing the faint sound of the world outside. I still have a very vivid memory of a crazy storm with so much rain that many basements on our street got flooded. The canals couldn’t handle the huge amount of water that was coming down. Water was running down the street and into the basements. I remember my sister and I standing in half a foot of water in our gum boots and PJ’s scooping up water with our pails in the middle of the night, carrying them outside dumping it on the lawn, while the adults were tending all kinds of emergencies. For us kids it was fun. Some kind of wild part in me responded to the wildness of the storm and still does. That wild part in me comes alive as the weather intensifies and just wants to dance with it.
Over the years in my adult life there were also moments of fear. I remember vividly a wild wind and rain storm that surprised a few of us when we were out on a walk in the East Kootenays. My sister had come for a very brief visit from Germany and I was trying to show her as many things as possible in the few days that we had together. We had gone for a walk with my partner and a neighbour friend, who knew the forests in our area much better than us, when all of a sudden the wind came up. I don’t remember if we had known that a storm was coming in. But I do remember branches starting to fly all around us and not just the little ones. We decided to go back and when trees began crashing down, we started to run, dodging the branches that were coming down in our path, climbing over or under the trees that had fallen. The fear was very real in that moment and we were all greatly relieved to get home and very grateful that nobody got hurt. I think we were all a little bit in shock at the suddenness and fierceness and real danger we had found ourselves in so unexpectedly.
And there were many times while living in a cabin on top of a mountain where I had to learn to manage my fears. Thunderstorms up there were intense. You could see the lighting strike power poles or enter the earth or hit trees nearby. The biggest fear was always the possibility of a fire. The danger of a forest fires in the summer was very real. I learned to become the observer rather than dwell in my fear. And through observing these beautiful and powerful storms I once again found that deep trust that I knew as a child. After the storm I would go see where the lightening had struck, in awe at the giant black scratch marks it left on the poles or trees.
To me the elements, the moon, the stars, the sun, the trees, etc. have always been living entities. I listen when I hear the wind whisper or howl. I still speak to Grandmother Moon and the stars at night. I am not surprised at all that my journey has led me towards Shamanic practices. I feel at home in this connection to the earth, the animal and plant beings, the elements and helping spirits from beyond.
Tonight thirteen candles are burning brightly as the rain is falling heavily. They were lit to honour the thirteen moons and to honour the Divine Feminine in a beautiful Rite of the Womb ritual that I had the fortune to participate in. As I watch the candles burn bathing the room in its sacred light, I feel touched by the beauty of this ritual and my deep love for the Divine Feminine. With my hand on my womb I feel connected to the Divine Feminine and her power and wisdom. Perhaps the veils have dropped tonight, I am surprised at the clarity that calls me to become a womb keeper and offer this rite to other women. I sense the importance of this. As we let go of our fear and pain in our wombs, we are able to use it for what it was made for: to create and to give birth to life.
Here is a beautiful video showing “the Rite of the Womb”:
The ritual is simple yet so profound. I love how it passed on from woman to woman originating from a lineage of women shamans. I sense a deep healing taking place, not just in me, but on a much broader level. And if you want more information about the Rite of the Womb and a list of womb keepers from around the world you can find that here:
Drawing Back The Curtain 