I have spent the last year giving myself a beautiful gift; my divine masculine embodied first within me and then gradually around me. It began on my 41st birthday in September during a beautiful cacao ceremony where I felt my heart open to my perfect masculine counterpart, give it form and invite it to make love to my feminine. Laying there in the soft grass I could feel them connecting, exploring, nurturing each other and breeding new forms for visions seeded.
I had been through a terrible break up with someone whom I thought was my perfect fairy tale prince. It was after a few years as a single mother and he was a fellow professional artist–a jeweler who once owned an essential oils company and made his money selling obscure European Punk records and knives online–also a karate teacher and Super Dad Mr. Colorado who would take me on awesome outdoor adventures in search of ghost towns that no one knew about. He also would flip into the opposite of himself–mysteriously turning into an angry disconnected cold man whom I couldn’t understand or relate to at all and he refused to engage with me on any of my passions, though he shared them. I realized after a couple of years of this that my personality had melted under the duress of trying to present the things I wanted to share in an appealing way and to prevent that other side of him from coming out. With the end of this relationship on top of an adult life full of love that turned to misery, I decided that I would never again subject myself to whatever that was and would thus probably never be able to trust or understand love.
I realized that before this I hadn’t sought to understand what my unembodied perfect masculine counterpart is like. I had only searched for clues about him in men around me, feeling blindly for pleasing attributes–trying to identify their nature and to understand how they could all interrelate and compose a whole person. If I could identify pieces of that mysterious iconoclast in a guy, I would take them into my life and body, hoping that they would compliment and support me in this perfect way, and eventually move on feeling unmet and diminished by the energy put out that wasn’t properly used or returned. Without an idea of what I was looking for, I would find some of the qualities that would light up my heart, but within lives, habits and drawbacks that also kept me from fully experiencing union–of course mirroring my own state of mind. In retrospect this makes perfect sense, as I didn’t have a complete picture inside….I never thought I deserved such an indulgence–rather I thought I had to take what came to me and perhaps try to fit it into a mold that I had not fully formed.
So my perfect masculine counterpart, who had been peeking at me from behind the pillars, became an embodied creature inside of me and began to make love to my feminine for my 41st birthday. Weaving in and out of my shushunah, my center line, they nurture and explore each other; they planted seeds, fertilized eggs and incubated visions into physical form.
This was my introduction and I’ve since been getting to know him, understanding how he can integrate into the life I have going on outside of my body. I would examine him in my meditations through allowing energy to pass through my right masculine yang pingala side–which had felt numb compared to my left until I started playing with this meditation. The divine masculine began to come to me in its different forms; there was even one day when I could feel the golden divine healing communal light of Jesus and from this garnered a visceral understanding of the healing nature of the balanced and thriving masculine.
The more I learn about him, the more he becomes a part of my environment. He doesn’t need me to open my body or feed him my blood, he just wants to help me, protect me, hold me up into the light so that I may expand fully into the mystery that I have access to; so that he can add to and feel the light of the divine feminine with me and through me. He comes to me as a universal being, from many directions and wearing different men like clothes. He comes gently into my life to encourage me towards adopting the habits that I know are needed, nurturing me in various way and physically manifesting my ideas with his given talents, so that I may examine these qualities and fine tune the way I want to experience them- in the “this, this but not that” fashion that life uses to naturally select itself.
I have friends who were there at my birthday rave, who saw my freshly fucked look post tantric cacao ceremony, who listened to me babble on about the strange experiences I was having with letting the sun energy into my right side. Now they watch amazed as my kid’s father moves from Seattle to the tiny town where I live and tries to become the sort of person who can actually help me with our son, men surround me in friendship, taking me on adventures, cooking for me, fixing my car, teaching me the intricacies of investing, building things for me, painting with me, playing music with me, dancing with me, doing yoga with me and generally making themselves present to play an ever-increasing supportive participative role in my meanderings. Even my father has disbanded from his responsibilities in Florida, he and his wife making their way closer to Colorado so that he can be there to teach my son how to play frisbee. As I let him in, he begins to play a beautiful role in my life through this universal divine masculine; always telling me he is there for me but also that I don’t need to sacrifice my sovereignty to feel him–he is in individuals but he is also everywhere and I am always being met no matter what. He also comes in an individual, a lover and partner–each form better than the last with the promise that the ultimate iconoclast embodied version will be able to meet me in every way. This is because I know what I want and I know who he is…….