you & me

Kneel Before Me: Let Me Lie At Your Feet.

{H. Armstrong Roberts / Via}

{H. Armstrong Roberts / Via}

If women want to be equal to men all we have to do is own what is divinely feminine, but own it out loud and not be demure or subservient about it.

For that is exactly what men have done for the past thousands of years: Owned what was divinely masculine, conquered and built. But now the balance must be returned.

What does masculine principle innately have that feminine expression does not? And what does the feminine have that masculine doesn’t? When we focus on this and honor it immaculately within each other, only then will we be truly equal.

I wash your feet and dance before you to celebrate you; you kneel at mine in reverence and with pride and honor.

In the rise to equality, what has happened is that we (women) have tried too hard to be men when we’re just not. We need to admit this out loud. And gentlemen, you need to respect the crazy in the woman, because that crazy is brilliance that just overwhelms her and she needs you.

We just don’t use our power the same way you do.

I’m seeing more and more evidence that suggests men are evolving to a place where they can respect a woman’s power, but could possibly be befuddled because what was so clear to them before is now muddled.

“This is a man’s job, we can’t entrust this to a woman!” says the flavor of the American Dream generation whose ideal still rings true (albeit a bit fainter — or maybe evolved?) within our DNA.

Suddenly now we are all misplaced. The American Dream is dead and its descendants are now in disorder and shock trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. Who are we?  Who are men and who are women? The execution of these expressions leaves something to be desired, however. On both our parts.

Men: be less afraid. Women: stop acting like men!

And don’t get mad when a man holds a door open for you because you feel it is degrading. Come on!!!  The code of chivalry may very well have disappeared because we lopped off its head with a sword!

Perhaps a different kind of pain towards the feminine in the form of resentment has boiled up a bit, as women have now trampled over men, crushing the soft parts within them, in an attempt to be equal and to take back was wrenched from her long ago.

I’m sure none of it was intentional but merely bred from all of our ignorance — on the male’s part too. We had to evolve a long way to get here and we didn’t know any better before. Now we do! And I see hope. I see the magic taking root.

But we need to relent. All of us. We need to honor and lay at each other’s feet. We need to own what is gloriously feminine in principle, and respect what is phenomenally masculine.

As the feminine, I want to look deeply into his eyes and say: You are So. Damn. Gorgeous. And I thank you for what you provide, what you risk, what you build for me and how hard you work. I thank you for keeping me safe. And for holding me. You are my rest, my harbor.

Your strength makes me graceful; your firm, yielding hand on the small of my back encases my vulnerability. Because despite what I may portray to you — an invincibility, I am utterly delicate and love how you make me feel small and shielded in that sexy sort of way.

You are structure and discipline, the essence of masculine principles. I need that because as the female principle, my job is to nurture and create and creating comes from a nebulous place without bounds, one that can feel overwhelming and insecure to me at times. (The crazy).

While I wander in the boundless realms, you keep me rooted in what is physical, grounded and simplistic. You keep me on track. And I love you madly for that. So madly.

I couldn’t be my feminine expression without you. You make me, me.

In the code of feminine conduct, this is what I want to give to you: A place to fire-gaze and be nurtured. I want to quench your thirst and mend your wounds from battles fought.

I want to take you on escapades into the boundless, so that you too can experience the bliss of that adventure — for I am your vessel to get there. I want to administer magic to your weary body and skeptical soul. I want to dance for you, with you.

I want to create life and make love, for I am your conduit to creation. But alone, this phenomenon has no power, because I need you to unveil the path that travels there, for you are the key and I am the locked doorway to all that is heavenly. Stick it in and unlock me. I want to take you on an ineffable journey.

Lay down your sword, you exquisite warrior, and sleep with me in soft seclusion from what agonizes and torments you in this vicious world. For all this I can give you. But this can only be given if we relent our competition with one another. We need one another.

Both of us lack and both of us are strong — by design, we complement.

“For creation is a miracle that occurs most perfectly when the union of male and female principles is present.” ~The Libro Rosso, via Kathleen McGowan

I am not weaker than you and you are not weaker than me in any way. We are equal. I honor your strength and courage and I know you want to honor mine. Perhaps you’ve never been shown true power?

That power that you misconstrued and used to conquer and destroy: apply it now to re-building what is sacred between the two of us, for you are a determined hard-worker — and your labor is phenomenal. Build — make the space, and I will create sustenance for us to feast upon.

I am the grace and flourish. You, my grounding, my safe haven. Once kneeled, I will rise up from your feet and you will rise up from mine. At equal levels now, look deeply into my eyes.

What do you see?

You see you exalted. Can you handle it? Can you hold this?

This is your true power, your strength. This is the Source — for both of us.

Picking up your sword — softly, I christen you.

Now take me in your arms, and wrap me quietly in the promise of forever feeling sacred.




Kristi Stout

Kristi Stout

Kristi L. Stout is an artist, mother, and lover. She considers herself a Renaissance woman, in service of Love in its many forms. It is her belief that inside each of us is our own sacred, Wild nature -- a hidden instinct that is not forgotten as much as it is dormant, like leafless trees in winter. It is the part of us that is connected to all things. A knowing without knowing. The part deep inside that understands darkness is necessary for the moon to simmer silver, and recognizes that even if you’re lost in the middle of nowhere you can always find a sacred somewhere -- like an internal compass pointing true north to your heart center. Her passion project, work in progress, is She Is Wild. You can find more of Kristi’s work here or connect with her on Facebook.
Kristi Stout