Recently, my mother and I attended a Stevie Nicks concert. With glasses of Chardonnay and Pinot Grigio in hand and a clear plastic bag filled with 24 Karat Gold Tour merchandise, we entered the venue side-by-side only to leave hand-in-hand, transformed from the night.


It was amazing in a way that I could never fully describe in how the essence of the triple goddess: Maid, Mother and Crone, could be squished into one mystical event. Shimmying and shaking, tears and triumphant declarations, white winged doves and landslide queens; I was with both my mama and my mystical mama.


“Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?”


On one hand, it was a concert. On the other, a melding of feminine rising.


I had the privilege in taking it in with my mother: The woman who carried me for 9 months, where I heard her heart from the inside out. The one who stood by me during my temper tantrums always extending hugs and loved me fierce through the angst-ridden teen years and as a know-it-all young adult.


The one who held me as I gave birth to my daughter, Marlie, and who sat in the porch chair, quiet and contemplative, at the cabin in Glacier Park as I revealed to her, before anyone else, that I would be filing for divorce. The sky was dusted with stars and I unknowing just how I’d navigate through the constellation of my hopes and dreams


But she knew. And SHE always knows.


My relationship with the feminine my mother reflects hasn’t been the easiest for me to own as the mystical SHE has been quite fierce and holy as a guide. Its only been more recently that I’ve been able to embody the woman staring back in my own vanity mirror.


A fractured soul now glowing whole.


She has found her way through life’s seasons, persevered through peaks and valleys and whispered to me to keep going, no matter what.


There is a silent seismic strength in the feminine energy. 


It’s not about beating one’s chest to provide and protect the world or powering through in action, but to surrender and open one’s heart to the tragedies and jubilee; to hold both equally opposite truths and flow through, aligned and awake, empowered in action.


“Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older, too”


I used to be afraid of changing, and worried whether or not I could weather the seasons of change in my life. But if my thirties have been any indication: I can and I will continue to rise and fall and rise again as I take flight in life.


Surrender to the she within you and she’ll guide you through.


I wrote this a bit back, but it fits with the seasons of change happening now:


The Seasons of She

Can I weather the seasons of change in my life?
Erupt in gold and crimson and evergreen?
Be the flaming bush singing the past, 
setting it afire to let it go
To rise up in the ashen smoke
To be free
Can I stand tall
While tunneling deep
through the blanketing dark and cold
allowing uncertainty to envelope me?
Cradled with the faith that “soon this will pass”.
Can I face my fears? My broken heart so torn?
Embracing my fragile humanness as whole?
Can I awaken refreshed and renewed from the letting go, 
The pain of acknowledging all the feelings felt?
Can I allow the new growth so tender and spring green, to sprout?
Enlivening the areas that fell asleep, the lost parts that are still me?
Can I drink in the sunlight and rain, my sister elements of life, 
Granting nourishment for the living?
Can I blossom, trusting they’ll open when ready not knowing the color or style
as they shape shift each year, with new gifts to give from wisdom reaped, 
The new Grace in being.
Can I cultivate them, take the time to nurture them to fruition?
As I reach for the summer gaze and nestle in the moons hopeful light?
Can I rise to reach the day after day, no longer heavy with the wintered heart, 
No longer fresh with the promise of spring, no longer afraid that this too shall pass. 
Life is a cycle, an infinite spiraling journey inward while expressing outwardly all that comes to pass. 
For what I’m left with is me as I move through the seasons of change.