the wounded, a coven of the scarred.
“Well? How long will you join us here?”
You answer her, as only you can. What do you say to the Goddess of the Underworld?
You might have longed to stay in your younger years, but your wise woman’s psyche knows you have work to do on the topside world. The Goddess grins crookedly and nods in solidarity, approving of your bravehearted resolve. You look to her, clench your fists, and leap into the flames, vowing to let the fire be a crucible of hot and holy transformation, to transmute your rage and grief into empathy and gratitude. You are not sure how long you journey, for you remember little of the ascent, but you wake with newborn eyes open to a wilder world.
“I am returned,” you say aloud. “I am returned more real than I have ever been.”
And so it is.
BODY PRAYER OF THE SHADOW: A MOVING-MAGICK PRACTICE OF INTEGRATION
Materials: Music (optional)
Like the myth of Persephone-Kore, Inanna’s tale of descent is really a story of integration, as the Goddess must face her own dark side, fusing together parts of herself that had been fragmented in order to meaningfully heal. This body prayer can be done alone or in a circle of sisters; it is a moving ritual and living healer’s spell through which you dance yourself open, confront your shadow, then return from the underworld a more whole version of yourself.
Ideally in a closed, dimly lit space or out in nature at night, begin by moving in a slow rhythm either to live drums or recorded music. You might find your shadow song and play it loudly or tune in to the rhythm of your heartbeat and move in time with your life’s pulse. Consider the rhythm a resonance of the feminine divine that opens a holy gateway to the deepest parts of your soul. Even if you are with your sisters, dance for no one but you. This is your ritual of descent and return, and your body remembers the way. Move with lupine intelligence. Close your eyes if you must to keep your attention inward. Begin to feel that your shadow is ascending through your body, climbing your bones and moving into your heart space. Your shadow is everything you would swear you are not, everything you detest in other women; it reflects the most wounded parts of your soul, struck down and buried during childhood in the name of social acceptance.
Dance your shadow dance now, my love. How does your shadow move? What does it want? Descend into the muck of those parts of your psyche you labeled as bad when you were young and dig through them with your bare hands. Did you decide that your vulnerability was a fault and now you detest weakness and entitlement? Did you decide your right to rest was an illusion and now you detest laziness? Did you consider your natural childhood naïveté to be a downfall, so now your shadow is ignorance? Who is the shadow creature that lives within? Find her and dance wildly with her, for she has been caged for far too long.
When you feel the time is right, begin to integrate your shadow now by giving her permission to stay in the light, to fuse to your body and soul. Know that true shadow integration is a long and challenging process of many hard-won psychic battles, sudden and painful epiphanies, and angry resistance. This ritual is a symbolic action. Like the earth element, it is a place from which to begin. Dance the dance of integration until you can dance no longer, then rest a more organically soulful version of yourself. You are a Priestess of the Wild Earth, and you now find yourself on new ground.
And so it is.
PATHWORKING AND FORGIVING THE MAIDEN: RETURN TO THE UNDERWORLD-GARDEN
As you read these words, my love, hear the gravelly voice of a wise hooded Crone echoing from within your very bones. She is leading you through this meditation, walking with you as you honor your time in the underworld-garden as integral to your personal growth, a pivotal chapter in your story. Know forgiveness as a space maker, with any anger or resentment you feel toward yourself for spending time in the garden consuming valuable energy within your heart and soul. Know the forgiveness you direct toward yourself as vital medicine for the ailing feminine, and know the path as perfect, just as it is. Return to the garden now, Priestess, and let the old one hold your hand while you walk.
“Come with me, Maiden,” she beckons, holding out her paper-skinned hand. “We must return to the place you rebelled against, so long ago.”
In your mind’s eye, you can see the landscape of your most recent garden, a place you knew to be safe for a time, where the masks you wore matched those of others and your wildness would have been shunned were you to show it too soon.
Go into your underworld-garden now, your Eden. Walk with your protectress, who will shield you with all the willful steadfastness of a wolf-mother. She is with you, and you are safe. There is no one else here. You can see the garden so clearly now, and you can feel it with all your senses. What colors are in this place? What sounds do you hear?
Give yourself some time to move around the garden freely, exploring the places you knew so well. Perhaps let your fingers begin to graze things you were not permitted to touch when you were there in your younger years. Imagine yourself breaking the rules of this place. Dance wildly, or proclaim your true name. Repeat these vows in your garden, as often as you like, as if they were a righteous mantra: See me as I am. Hear me as I am. Know me as I am. Love me as I am.
Now, bewitch this garden-hell from the inside out. Imagine now that the garden begins to change slightly, with the whole scene dimming as if the lights were being turned down. The garden becomes washed in gray light and, whatever the precise nature of your garden, even if it is an indoor space, let your Crone guide lead you to the Tree of Knowledge. Somewhere in your darkened garden, a bright, dewy tree now grows, and your wise woman will help you seek it out.
“I know the way, Priestess,” she tells you, holding your hand as you move through the familiar space searching for something you have most certainly never seen in your garden before this moment.
When you find the tree, you will know it as the most beauteous, maternal, growing gift you have ever encountered. Though the garden is cast in a dull light, this tree is illuminated by the pink-gold of the abundant feminine. The leaves are vibrant, so emerald green that they seem to glow, and the bark on the thick trunk is knotted with age. The branches are bejeweled by fruit so flawless that their skin is tattooed with the ancient symbols of God-Goddess-Mystery.
This tree is a symbol of your holy awakening, my love. Its colors are the shades of your liberation, and its image is how your psyche has chosen to show you your own wild nature in this moment. Approach this tree now, Priestess, but move slowly. Trace the bark with your fingertips and inhale the heady scent of the forbidden fruit. When you feel ready, reach up and pick the most lustrous piece of sinful lusciousness you can find. Let your tongue run along its edges; then sink your teeth deep into the juicy grit of the Holy Wild.
Imagine you leave nothing. Devour it all. With every bite, imagine that the dark garden surrounding the tree becomes less tangible, disintegrating into thick, hot black smoke that hangs in the air around you. When you feel full and fed, inhale deeply and pull this black hot smoke into your lungs, exhaling with force and seeing it surround you once again. Now, inhale again, pulling the smoke inside your blessed body, but this time, dear one, you exhale a gray fog, cooler and less dense than the smoke you breathed in. Inhale this gray fog now and exhale a white cool mist. Inhale this white mist, exhaling pure diamond light.
Stay with this image now, Priestess, for you have transmuted your memories of the garden. Inhale the diamond-white light and exhale the diamond-white light, sinking into this rhythmic mantra. On the inhale, think the words I am,
