To Have Incarnated In the Body Of a Woman Is a Fine Bliss
In my mind’s eye, I am seeing a scene from a parallel universe:
the Creator with a magic wand and some helpers breathing into clay figures the awareness that will live in them…
“Surely we can’t give her the body of a man. That would be a huge loss to us all… and no fit for her at all. Don’t worry… You will be who you are, Nanda.”
Sparkles fly through the air, I find myself inside one of those clay figures, and I understand that I am going to be a human.
Now, on a less imaginative note, I know that I could function in the male form, and I would. The hormones and the altered communication between the right and left brain would make me move in a different way than I move now, have other priorities, preferences, perceptions, a rather different identity and a much hairier skin, yet I can hardly fathom who I would be… A craftsman? An astronomer? A drummer? A doctor? A rebel? An inventor? A reformer? A slave? A warrior? A water warrior? A gardener? A mystic? Would I be my twin soul, the archetypes that he is?
How would I express my nurturing psyche? The thrill I feel when someone improves after knowing me, when something tiny starts to root and grow and thrive after feeling my touch, the thrill I get from noticing nuances of perfume and nuances of colour that most people pass by, the thrill I feel from something so good and right happening thanks to my influence and caring, the thrill I get from information that reaches my senses long before the masses grasp or can verbalize it, the thrill I get from all displays of affection on earth, how would I express that as a man?
I don’t know.
That is why I am grateful to be a woman.. because all those subtle things are gifts from the sacred feminine.
As a man I would adore them. As a woman I live them.
Just for today I am grateful to be me.
10 June 2017
