Stir My Soul Fire: A Call To Smash The Quiet Love.
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Do not be gentle. Do not softly tiptoe around me with your truth quiet and tame. Do not treat me like a doll afraid of the wind.
Do not pride yourself in keeping my clothes unruffled, my hair tidy, the lipstick on my mouth intact.
I do not need another caretaker, another one to place their hand on the small of my back and lead me into something safe and smart, lacking the soul spark.
My body aches for the light, for the burn, to know that I am alive and that I am a woman.
Ravage me.
Take me entirely.
Turn my entire universe upside down until I am so hungry that it is only Truth that I beg for.
Undo the places in me I have locked away. One by one, disarm me, until I am nothing but the raw flesh and bone of stark authentic fierceness, not afraid to be ugly or unkempt in the name of juicy aliveness.
No, you did not offend me. No, you cannot hurt me when you hold your ground and look into me.
I beg you, do not be a wandering salesman with my soul, leaving if I slam the door in your face, straightening your tie and heading to the next home of someone who might have you.
Burn down the whole fucking house.
Find the parts of me I lay hidden in all those closets and call them out, one by one, until it’s just you and I dancing with the fire of a thousand suns as every untruth and un-joy turns to ash at our feet.
No, don’t try to complete me. Push me. Push me out beyond every wall I ever constructed and make love to me in the middle of that darkness. Right there.
There we scream and we pant and we howl at the moon, and we no longer lose our souls to what good people should do.
I cannot bear anything else. I cannot bear the casual I’m fine or the reasonable It’s okay. I have watched too many die this way, as they send their wild natures out to sea never to return with joy or love again.
Yes, let’s make this messy. Let’s make delicious mistakes. Let’s rub the mud all over us and roll in it as I learn how to bear you and your full weight. Do not hold back the fullness of your need, but trust me. Let me hold you entirely.
I do not want you to breathe easy but I want you to reach for me with a need that scares you, enlivens you, makes you want to live the life that completely frees you.
I ask you with the wild woman alive in me, the goddess, the saint, the warrior, the dark angel who needs to be ravaged to find herself: Give me complete hell.
I want you to scare me shitless until my ego shakes and the only thing left standing is my propensity for the whole and wild life, where nothing is all right but everything is shimmering and vulnerable and alive.
If I’m mean, tell me. If I’m playing too small, release me. If I demand too much of you, let me. See what happens when we press our bodies against the beating strength of the earth’s heart.
You will find me when you strip off the layers of your fears that keep the body numb and detached and engrossed in the stuff that hides the Truth: the money, the technology, and getting lost in having to have proof.
The Divine laughs at all of that, and just wants us swirling hot and heavy from the morning’s tumblings. Your secrets on my breath, my wildest dreams leaving bites on your neck.
It just wants you to stop hiding all of your stomach’s rumblings and let your body scream what your eyes have been yelling.
Could you be so brave to beg?
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Maria Palumbo is a healer. She is a dancer in the dark. She lovingly guides women in the retrieval of their own souls through coaching, workshops, and community development. She celebrates freedom from shame in body, mind, and soul. Her work is fun and delicious, making the journey of healing gorgeous and satisfying, like a kiss under the Full Moon. Fall in deep love with your soul by connecting with her on Facebook or at her website.
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