The Invincible Woman internalized

(from "Notes From The Underground," Berlin 1998-9)


The Invincible Woman  in me whispers, and her whisper is as a light afternoon shower brushing the autumn leaves, or a gentle constant breeze snapping tightly against the ear in Longs Peak's boulderfield, or the steady fragrant current of a Rocky Mountain canyon stream - and she tells me:

"Seek me not outside yourself, neither in Aphrodite nor in Athena, nor Diana nor Hera nor Demeter.  For I indeed am all of these and I am none of them.  As each of these you have found me, recognized and celebrated me.  Now find me as none of these, find me in my essential form, invincible, and inside of your own maleness.  You have to surrender all of these forms so dear to you, develop your male form so it can sustain the discovery in relationship to me as I Am in you.  Let us not speak now of Mother or Dakini or Goddess, I am the Invincible Woman.  Then I can reveal myself to you in consciousness and the fulfillment of polarity.  Then will all Womankind be further blessed.  Then will all women everywhere find and assert their inborn sovereign dignity and power, their inborn sovereign confidence and grace.  This is a very great Seva.  Do this for me, don't put it off any longer."

She must be met in the belly, at the navel, then in the heart, and in one's very marrow.  All forms of her, all images of her manifestation, while ever sacred, must be surrendered into the belly's inner furnace, and surrendered once and for all.  The only way to fulfillment of that longing is to know her as Self and nothing other than Self.  This is love.  All one's seminal juices must be firmly directed there.  She alone and not her images may exist at that place.  One suspects very strongly, one is convinced, that to merge with the Invincible Woman inside, is to never again carry fear or loneliness, never again self-pity. . . . No fear of control by the female erotic power and therefore, having first known and honored it intimately, no succumbing to it.  One is free who belongs to that Invincible Woman inside.  No fear toward control by the male brute-power and therefore no intimidation from it.  One can afford to be open and disarming, who lives with the Invincible Woman inside.  She can take one apart and guide one toward real union.

. . . (against ingratiating weakness of resolve and likewise anger or aggression) the Invincible Woman will clear one of all this.  She will preserve one's sincerity, restore one's dignity, increase one's faith, and make one fearless in all situations.  And if she does this for the man in whom she dwells awake and in full liberty, imagine what she does for the woman in whom she is awakened!

This transformative experience, while set to writing, can hardly be spoken about without losing something of it. It actually refers back to the early adolescent Woods-Dream, the "Dakinis in the Cellar" - and the promise it held out to the dreamer.

http://samuelinayatchisti.blogspot.de/2011/08/dakinis-in-cellar.html

Dakinis in the Cellar

(first written down, Berlin 1998)

A familiar feature from my childhood was my parents' "unfinished basement". We played down there, my mother hung wash there in bad weather, we sometimes slept there, we stored boxes of merchandise, my father kept his desk there, my brother instructed me in oil paint and led his two younger siblings in some very creative scenario building for play there. It was (for a child) a large area, divided not by walls but by two-by-four beams, structures through which you could easily slip from one "room" to the other.

These became the basis for the "trees" in the following dream. The Basement was also for me very spooky, and I feared it as an Abode of My Unconscious in childhood as much as I used it regardless of this.

The dream may have recurred twice or three times, or else the one time I dreamt it just made that strong an impression; in any event, I was no older than 12 by my reckoning.

I was familiar then with two story-settings and their brutal endings which no doubt influenced the set-up of the dream: Grieg's “Peer Gynt“ and the Greek classic of Artemis/Diana being inadvertantly caught bathing by a young man out hunting with his hounds. In both cases the male intruder meets with a rather nasty end.

So – I'm dreaming of being in The Basement which is now a woods, I'm watching through the 2x4 "trees" onto what really is an open concrete floor but in the dream is a wooded clearing, a bit surreal: green, dank, earthy, breathing with nature's primal heat, quiet, serene, yet full of anticipation.

At first empty, there quietly enters an auspicious assembly of, at most a dozen maidens. They are dressed, but etherically/erotically lovely – their entire color is blue, soft and glowing, and they are, it appears, ghosts or spirits as it were, not corporeal – yet no less desirable.

I watch and I sense that for all my je-jumping hormones, I should keep a respectful distance, exercise some restraint, and keep still. Good call, as it turns out. For just a few feet away from me to my right I notice a young fella (older than I however) suggesting Peer Gynt or the Greek hunter. He's dressed a little haphazardly, bloused sleeves and open shirt and all, hair unkempt, his eyes innocent yet rolling out of control, his face breaking into a sweat: He Can't Handle This. He watches too, as the maidens form a circle and dance like fairies or like Isadora Duncan, as surreal as they are sensual. But nothing happens – yet. (I gasp.)

Well, the kid finally breaks down and dashes into their midst, throwing himself into the dance – did he also make a grab at one of the ghostly maidens? I think so – and of course, could not. The female Master standing in the middle of the circle was none too pleased and gave a thought-command. With a fury the poor guy was pounced on by all, and rent asunder.

As this occurred, or perhaps immediately after – the female Master gave me a very direct and auspicious glance, and with a sober and compassionate face of lovingkindness communicated wordlessly to me: "OK, Joe, this was a test and you just passed – so don't make the same mistake he did with your erotic gifts; you're fortunate to see what you got to see and make it out of here; now here's a gift from me to you: you will grow to understand and appreciate deeply the finer Being of Woman and what she really Is, and this itself will bless you." I'm paraphrasing here, but that was it.

Considering this twenty years later I thought of what our Murshida back in our Boulder group used to call the "Invincible Woman" and I thought of the Dakini-energy which accompanied our training. And I saw this adolescent dream sequence in a better light.

Two deades still later as of this first writing, I think I got that right.

That Master-woman in my dream was the Invincible Woman, the assembly may well have been the Dancin' Dakinis. And it doesn't take Carl Jung to figure out that I'm both "me" and the "other guy" in the story. My life bears out the truth of this dream.

http://samuelinayatchisti.blogspot.de/2011/08/invincible-woman-internalized-from.html