NANA MULUC
The dimension of the sacred feminine
To girls not seen as a blessing at birth, to the disrespected ones.
The sky and its stars made music for you.
The sun and the moon honored you.
God exalted you.
The sacred feminine sings to you.
Inscription in the temple of Hathor,
in Dendera, Egypt, ii Century B.C.
Perhaps this may not say anything to your heart today because you’re a child. Maybe someday my words will serve to heal your soul.
In my heart lives the euphoria of your birth, voices of joy at the beautiful girl that was planted in this earth to start her own yarn, her own weave. We are born impregnated with love for life. We are beings not yet manifested, with no history, innocent, trusting, wise, polyamorous.
We’re looking to weave an endearing tapestry of collaboration. Leave the unity to embark on our own journey. Begin the mission of your journey recognizing yourself contradictory, dual: space-time, life-death, light-darkness, consciousness, and unconsciousness. For the first time, you perceive of yourself as a rational and sensitive being: ambiguous. You are everything. You are magic, my love. You have the ability to transform anything that appears in your life. You may direct your light, use your intuition and wisdom. The unconscious will fill you with codes, keys to decipher yourself.
We all have not known sometime, we all do not know. Whoever cannot connect with pain cannot connect with joy. For you to be a healer, you must be hurt, my dearest child. You will make decisions in your life that you will not have reflected upon. Crossroads. Appease, trust, use your intuition. Heal yourself from within gratitude.
Honor time; stop and exhale. Honor the moment you are passing through.
Flow and honor the movement.
Also allow yourself also to be still, waiting, with no control.
Be aware of the mystery of life, of the impermanence.
Weave yourself again before time cuts you off.
Make friends with the courage to exist, to taking a risk.
Despair, dark night, dryness.
You will gain contact with places you did not know.
Incorporating the unknown with respect.
Dying to a manner of being, with pain at loss.
You will no longer be who you were, and you will not yet be who you will be.
Offer your pain.
Touch the earth with your head; bow your head before greatness, my love.
Observe the “nos” and the “shoulds”, and let them go.
Take refuge at night where life arises.
Seek yourself chaos so a new order arrives.
Absorb and treasure the scenes from your existence,
the ones that made you smile, the ones that made you cry.
Everything makes sense.
Put your heart back in its place.
Let everything settle in its new state of being.
Wise child. Guardian of life.
You managed to fuse your intelligence and your awkwardness.
Your spirit and your body.
Your generosity and your envy.
Your miseries and your virtues.
That is you, you are both. That is me, too.
When you are about to finish your story,
what you have been being,
be thankful for being able to reveal yourself:
aligned, fulfilled, empathetic, connected, free.
Without fears, without judgments, without limits, without attachments.
When you realize that,
treat yourself gently because you are great, my dear.
I love you like this, and I will love you forever.
Now, sing to your bones, my child, so they may be joined in a loving place and allow you to do it differently than your ancestors.
Blessed beginning.
Blessed sowing.
Adelia Sayeg
January 2022