A Truth Denied Only Hides
You are being guided to listen to the urging of anger. There is space for ALL and there is wisdom in ALL. Your body is whispering to you. Do not deny your rage.
Rage, you are welcome here and I am listening.
You have forsaken yourself for too long, allowing self-punishment to override your wisdom of knowing. You are not “too much”, you are just enough. Self-doubt and guilt have overridden the truth of your rage.
Where is my rage rooted?
In a lifetime of not acknowledging your own presence, allowing others to make you invisible. It is the rage of a voice lost in other people’s chaos; a loving heart extending itself to fragile egos who are intimidated by the truth.
For a long time, I have ignored this heavy boulder, sitting silently, and suffocating my own wisdom. It is the consequence of a truth spoken too many times, unacknowledged and hushed by the heaviness of repression. Silly little games, inflicting violence on the heart. Allow unconditional love and acceptance to wrap tenderly those hidden places, bearing witness to the chaos created by soul-splitting denial.
Who did you think you were fooling? A truth denied only hides, infected and poisonous to everything you wish to create. Do you see the dragon of rage waiting patiently for you to acknowledge her power and willingness to spew flames of truth on all that no longer serves her? Your silence is not golden; it is pure poison, a toxic sludge seeping into your creations. How did you not see the power of rage?
Kali’s sickle is held with intention, dismembering outlived lies that “likability” or childish rants are the only two options. Embrace the power of embodiment and tend the flame of rage. Allow the sorcery of transformation to grow a belly of self-worth that commands transmutation. Rise up in knowing that rage is prophesying your rebirth. Rise up to meet the creation of your crown; fire magic cultivating precious stones from dismembered bones. These gems of power are crafted from fear and unworthiness. What beautiful music they make clanking and glimmering, hanging from a neck of truth, swaying on unrighteous hips that no longer dance to the old tune. Ohhhh this new dance is dark and mysterious, untamed and serpentine, untangled and unhindered by what is not hers to own. Earth magic; a tribal dance of nurturing courage, the ally of rage teaching the spiral dance of the Creatrix. Rage is transmuted to unapologetic pleasure; the right to feel, the right to speak, the right to create, and the right to BE. And so it is.
Photo by Olga Bast on Unsplash