Ducking back into the Red Tent

Taboo

I need to re-vision
the blood
feel the blessing of eggs
washing away, lining cleansed
ready for new beginnings.

I need to see God as a woman
who bleeds.

excerpt of a poem by Jennifer Boire


The dull pulse in my back and pelvis woke me this morning at 4am. Slightly disoriented from disconnecting dreams, the dark curled around me and I lay foggy brained for a few minutes trying to piece together the feeling in my body. Familiarity of eight and a half years kicked in after a moment and I lay resting, thinking about blood being spilled on cue as always. The ache lacking it's usual fierceness, I stayed curled up in bed, pausing at my bleeding's beginning trying to remind myself to pause over it's duration.

I constantly feel pressure from outside to keep going as if nothing is happening when I bleed. Onwards, always onwards in linear fashion.

I do not feel linear.

It doesn't match my experience of my body, life, emotions, relationships or spirituality. Cyclic is my reality. The world rotates through it's seasons, the moon through it's waxing and waning, just as I circle around and around, and move through the stages of being female. Bleeding gets rid of the old and prepares for the new.... it is an introspective time. When I consciously make it an introspective time to match the rhythm of my body I find I have the opportunity for parts of myself heal to in all sorts of ways through letting go and accepting.

The actual reality of pausing can be difficult. I have an assignment this week that I will be working hard to complete, so it will not be low key. But it's not necessarily the physical slowing down that is important to me (though changing pace does help introspective processing) but the mental shift.

A few months ago I found a beautiful crimson ribbon which I wear wrapped around my wrist now every time I bleed... a visual reminder to reflect. I've started keeping a dream journal (which I write in all the time) but it is always more vivid leading up to menstruation and during bleeding. I simply write my dreams as I remember them and leave it as that. In the process of writing sometimes they make more sense. I write in my many other journals too. It's an open time on many levels. At least once I try make space to sit open before God to see what needs to be stripped away and see what needs to grow. What else? I drink more water and avoid caffeine. I light candles and snuggle with my hot-water bottle, and get fresh air. They're just things that I find work for me and help me pause.

I think it helps keep me sane. What do others do?