Life as a Doula, Journey of a Woman

Friday, 25 November 2016

Moon Mysteries



I remember many moons ago, a night-time or maybe early morning dream of being in the dead of night outside our local hospital, an old brick building with huge, complicated stained-glass windows like a Cathedral.  I was looking at this empty dark building, and whilst everything around was still black, the midnight sun popped over the horizon and sent a shaft of pure gold which might have been light, or sound, a vibration, which hit the glass windows exploding them to colourful life. More colours than I knew existed were released from the prism of the glass. As this happened, the congregation inside the powerful old church began to sing the sound of the light, so many voices joined together to make this pure note, and I realised that I was standing on the grass verge in bare feet, because the grass was softer than I could ever have imagined, and warm and wet with blood.

From there I entered a yurt, very low to the ground, with its floor dug out of the earth, in the centre was a burning pit of glowing red coals.  Back to the wall I edged around the fire-pit, feeling the warm, wet walls of this womb space, softer and more nourishing and caressing than anything I can recall. I knocked an ancient artefact from its spot on the wall as I moved, and a well of blood flowed.  There was an entrance that I was moving towards, guarded by the roots of a tree and metal and light were outside.  When I awoke from this, it was to find with delight that my blood time was here, along with the release and creativity it brings.

The dream was rich with synaesthesia, aroma, sound and light.  It called me to the study and work with women's mysteries, including birth.  When the membranes between worlds burst within moments of the zenith of this super moon, I thought of how Selene has presided over so many labours.  I have seen her holy glow through frosted bathroom windows where a woman is moving in the dark water.  She has followed me home, suspended low like a yellow smile in the field of haystacks behind my house as I walked back from a birth. Even in her darkness, as she turns, we know that there is a release and birth may follow. 

This time we didn't see her through the clouds.  Heavy curtains shut, room very dim, thick with that aroma, that dancing vibration of life, manifesting darkly this time, though we knew she was there. We could feel her presence even though we couldn't see her riding high like a ship on that deep dark sea, 14 per cent times whatever closer to us than she will be again until I am an old, old woman.

Bone-tired and high I drove home in the wet, washed morning, thinking of her, and as I turned into the road there she was, low in the sky!  Both of us going home in our evening dresses, sinking down to rest after the glories of the night.  She appeared to me by happy surprise like my blood time that morning, an affirmation, a gift, a release of creative energy and force for the good.


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