last week i was invited to enter the potent portal of birth - to hold space, trust and intention with the birthing mother.
to witness the mergence of worlds where divinity, biology and creation are spiraling inside one another; moving entire beings into entirely new dimensions of existence.
to sit beside the sacred intersection where life and death meet with quiet awe.
to behold the power of someone in active surrender.
to be in practice with presence - where each new moment is the only thing and wether or not we are fully available to what is being required from us by the energetic field is the greatest indicator of our ally-ship to the profound process unfolding.
i was called to be with someone inside their pain.
to honor it as her own and to believe in the transformation that comes with that teacher.
to be there when it gets hard, showing how possible it is to not be left alone inside the greatest of aches.
i sat in reverence to the tons of pressure and power that a body can hold and release.
shaking muscles, primal moans, and access to some kind of ancient wisdom all responsible for allowing a human body to withstand becoming the vessel through which the intensity of life force energy pulses through.
there was a moment where i noticed the sounds of a downtown city street just outside the apartment. traffic moving in a world built on systems that harm.
there i was, tucked inside a cave of sanctity where an extraordinary & intimate miracle was taking place.
the one that happens every 8.08 seconds.
the act of becoming life itself to birth life itself.
life belonging to itself.
first breath of a newborn.
first breath of a mother.
a being born into love inside a world at war, as gently and as honorably as humanly possible.
everything changes in a moment.
nothing will be the same.
there is something tangibly too big to be contained into our mere moments of mortality.
it is bigger than the room.
bigger than the people.
bigger than the event itself.
yet there it is - existing inside a moment because it has nowhere else to live.
this essence stayed with me into the next day where i laid in bed sobbing from what it brings up to hold testimony to the embodiment of creation.
later that day, i was reflecting to the birthing mother and her family what it was that i saw.
what i sensed.
what was alive in the room and in her power.
after inadequately expressing the hugeness with as much tenderness and truth as i could - the birthing mother’s dad looked at me with tears in his eyes and said “i can FEEL it. i am looking at this line of women sitting on this couch and i can feel how small i am”.
this moment matters.
it matters because it is needed.
it matters because it holds something necessary for the healing of a great disconnect that happens in raising a child from infancy to adulthood.
which is for the men of this world to come into careful, humble relationship and acceptance with their smallness.
to become reverent in the face of life.
to carry that reverence as close as their own breath and to protect is like their own survival.
this is the measure of true power - to stand witness to the wisdom that brings a mother to her knees in full surrender and to follow suit by bowing down to the inexplicably holy of her knowing.
to allow oneself to feel small in comparison.
to accept it.
to embrace it.
to name it strength.
and then, to teach the next generation of men how to do the same.