(Photograph by Jess Asien Winter Solstice 2014 shared with permission)

The Full Moon Goddesses, a collective soul of women who gather on my farm once a month around the full moon, just finished the second year of practicing Goddess Becoming together.

I thought I would share with you our journey last year but I didn't. I couldn't. It took all year to figure out why I was with-holding. I finally realized that I was still too insecure. The first year found me waiting for the novelty to wear off. The second year made me wonder if women were willing and ready for the work I had in mind. The rituals I was writing and offering were so new and different that I didn't know how people would react to them. I needed the full year to grow some lady balls and step into my power. I'm ready now.

To say that it was an extraordinary year is a complete understatement. As I prepared for Solstice, I wanted to present a summary of the monthly work we did together. I never expected a theme to emerge.

Every gathering and ritual we participated in focused on how to better own The Mind. We worked on becoming more objective observers. We practiced vulnerability and authenticity by giving voice and acknowledging detrimental thoughts and patterns of behavior, as well as affirming all the ways we are excelling. We examined the ways we listen and the ways our minds wander. We honored the delicate balance of remaining present to someone in distress despite the pleas from the mind to flee. We enacted in ritual aspects of our thoughts that resonate with the Higher Self we are trying to remember. I didn’t expect such clarity. I don’t know what I expected, if anything, but I was inspired.

Riding the wings of such coherence made it easy to see the agenda for 2015, which is to study and celebrate the Divine Feminine Body. This work strikes me as so obvious I almost want to laugh but I don’t because the work is too important. When I think about women in our culture, I wonder how many can look at their naked bodies in the mirror and not hear a single chastising voice. How and when did the female body become such a perversion of love and hate? Is the antagonizing attitude many have about their bodies something they want to pass to their sons and daughters? I certainly don’t.

When I think about the 75+ women who gathered in my home for Solstice recently, I marvel at how varied we are. There wasn’t a single woman there who looked like anyone else. Every one uniquely beautiful, uniquely essential, and most importantly, uniquely Divine. That’s the part that gets me. The divine expression is truly infinite and I want to spend a year discussing, embracing, and elevating the holy feminine body.

So, to start off the New Year, our January gathering, just a few days ago, celebrated the first gasp that brings us into Life and the sigh upon which we go into Death.

Our Breath.
The Lungs.

This particular gathering was unusually meditative, designed to bring awareness to the breath, to the rise and fall of the chest or belly, to the feeling of air passing through the nostrils or a slightly open mouth, and to the space of silence created when the focus shifts away from thinking and speaking. Breathing is a place to begin and always a place to return to when the chaos of life disrupts one’s awareness.

Most of the women who gather in our community are busy working careers or they are busy raising young families or doing some variation of both. The modern woman is fully scheduled and gifting HerSelf time to meditate is not an indulgence many afford. That’s another reason beginning with the breath is essential. We all breathe but it isn’t often that we are fully present to it. Coming to that awareness takes practice and that’s why we gather.

I asked that everyone come prepared with a piece sponge to represent lung. We participated in a ritual I wrote called, ‘Painting Imagine’. I hand stitched the words to Jon Lennon’s magnificent song Imagine on a piece of linen. I anticipated that many of the women coming to this canvas with paint were doing so in direct defiance to a voice in their head that hisses they are not creative. They are not colorful. They are not artists. They are simply not enough. This lie of not being enough is perpetuated physically in the bodies that house what is holy and transcendent. The intention of this ritual was to encourage women to counter that deception with others offering beauty in ways that stretch the imagination.

Some women observed in their minds feeling uneasy that paint was getting on the floor, that the colors were mixing, and that someone’s design might interfere with someone else’s. It didn’t take long for those insecurities to vanish into the wonder of women and many children breathing and speaking their intentions onto a canvas that encourages us to imagine our best selves in this sacred world.

Together we sang Jon Lennon’s song. We marveled at the art we created together while celebrating the simple but profound act of breathing. We practiced being quiet, listening deeply, witnessing the process of others and holding space for everyone to simply be.

“You may say that I’m a dreamer. But I’m not the only one. I hope someday you’ll join us. And the world will live as one.” ~Jon Lennon.



To the Sacredness of You, I bow deeply. ~julia