I found this on Facebook the other day and it is so delicious. As I develop a new softness within myself, within my sexual identity, I find that I want to be a safe place for men to rest. I still don’t know exactly what that means, only that it feels good in my mind to say it, and my body feels light and happy when I think of it. I take this as a good sign.
For whatever reason, I find that I want to help heal men in some way. Sex can be healing and sex is a doorway to expression for most men- especially the ones who remember their wildness. Relational sex therapy is not something I choose to do. So…..
I don’t know what shape safety and healing for men will take in my life or my practice. Or even if it will happen beyond my marriage and the man-child I am raising. But I know creating a safe space is first, always first. I am learning to do that with books and new ideas. And with practicing, fucking up, and practicing again.
This poem reminds me why I do this. And what the gorgeous outcome could be: a healed, wild man.
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A wild man is not a boyfriend, he is a force.
Can you love me in the blinding heat of a birthing star, when I shower warmth on distant moons?
Can you love me in the hole of the cosmic Black, where no one can reach me? Not even you?
Can you love me then, too?
Will you love me if my beard hides the scars in my heart, from battles I cannot explain?
Will you love me when I lack courage, when I am defeated, when I won’t let you patch my wounds?
Will you trust me when I smell of sweetgrass and sage, and when I stink of whiskey and sweat?
When I drink from the cup and play in the astral light, will you anchor me to Home?
What happens when my words don’t work, and I can speak with only my eyes?
Can you love me enough to let me go, without asking me where I’ll be?
I am no poodle to lay groomed on a leash at your feet. I am the wolf that fetches the bones of truth.
A wild man is not a boyfriend. He’s not built for animal husbandry.
He is a force.
He is a cause for an effect.
He is a mission.
Are you afraid to let me inside you? Not just my flesh, but my soul.
The wild man is neither burglar nor vandal. I will not take anything from you.
I am the sun on flooded fields and the fire for tangled webs.
Don’t be scared lover, maiden, mother, crone. Take me as I am.
Even if I have the power to destroy worlds, I will not destroy you.
A wild man is a protector. A father. A warrior for all that is good.
When the chaos seeks to obliterate you, sheering your flesh from bone, I will hold all the pieces together in love, until you are ready to reassemble.
When your seas boil, and your winds throw cars at corn fields, I will wait patiently for you to catch my eye, so that both of us can laugh.
When Hell opens up the fiery gates, and sends all the cosmos against you…I plant my heels deep in the ground. I lay my shield low. My sword is sharp then, my love. The steel swings sweetly. My last breath is a farewell kiss. Today is a good day to die.
For ours is the oldest love affair. The greatest story every told.
Cupid and Psyche. Shiva and Shakti. You and I.
Same same but different. Would we have it any other way?
A wild man is not a boyfriend. He is a force.
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It has taken me three days to get this post up (the kids aren’t in school yet!). And in that time, I’ve been reminded of the ways in which men have been trained (and choose) to behave poorly towards women. It makes me so angry and so sad. There are things within me that need to be healed, or at least recognized, so that I can be a safe space.
And so, I have turned to Jeff Brown and his work at SoulShaping.com. I’m thinking about taking his online course, Sacred Feminine Rising. If you, dear reader, would like to join me, drop me a line and let me know. With a few emails and a Facebook page we could have a good time helping each other.