The Whole World is Alive in Play


“You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.” ~ Buckminster Fuller

And so it seems fighting the structure that is patriarchy is not where to put our energy. Fighting something only keeps us attached to it, and there seems to be enough fighting going on in this world already.

Instead, what is this new model? Bucky Fuller was into building things. The old model that is dying was built up during the Industrial Revolution. It’s been about mechanization, about thought, and about a large serving of the masculine.


What is coming, though, is very different. What is new is not about mechanization and won’t come about by building it. It will come about through birthing. Yes, that’s right. BIRTHING.

We are giving birth to the new consciousness. Women hold that archetype, whether or not we birth babies. And this new consciousness is being born by women who are rebirthing themselves into a conscious knowing of the sacred feminine.

This new consciousness is not about women taking over, it’s about coming into balance, about healing the earth and realizing our roles as stewards of life. It’s about realizing the sacredness of life, in all of life.

What will it take for us to relax into the delivery? Anyone who has either given birth, or who has witnessed a baby being birthed, knows the mother basically has to surrender to the birth process.

Hanging on makes birth, and life, painful and intense. And letting go, receiving the birth, brings a little more ease. Maybe. Either way, birth brings transformation.


I remember how I transformed after having each child. Birth transformed me in completely unexpected ways. The birth of any creation through us transforms us. We leave the old behind. There’s a kind of death, and from that death the new is born. The whole world is alive in play. Why would we be any different?

I’ve noticed that one of the hardest things for me to relax into is this sense of play; a sense of flow and ease, of not having to have a label for everything. I have been in a place of in-between for some time, now, and it isn’t so easy to navigate. I make it hard. I try to put solidity to flow, firmness to malleability, exact labels to what it is I will be doing, and perhaps it is as simple as I am doing what I am doing, whatever name I give it, whatever I call myself.

And then I see that we know what we know. If we are really truthful with ourselves, we know. Can we trust ourselves and this knowing? This is the question, because the answer is crucial to birthing something new.

I’ve shared some words about trusting yourself… you know what you know… over on Andrea Olson’s site, A Multitude of Things. Please read on…I think it will speak to you.

And you?

As always, I’d love to know what you think, what’s happening in your life and how you’re experiencing this process of birth and re-birth. I hope you’ll share them here in the comments.

With love, Julie





The Messiness of Human Love


My last two posts have been about gender healing, feminism, and what it means to come into balance within and without. Balance between the feminine and the masculine. The coming together of two aspects of ourselves, and of life.

I don’t yet know where these issues will take me, us, or our world. There is so much more to come, I can tell.

For the past week, I’ve been struggling a bit with writer’s block. Nothing is flowing. So, I thought I would share with you this poem I wrote to my love, way back when we were first finding our way with each other. As I read it anew, it seems so fitting to our conversation about women, men and healing.

The Messiness of Human Love

Lying here beside you,
I feel you struggling with the weight of this.
I hear your words and feel their harshness,
and experience them as unforgiving of the messiness of your own love.

As I lie beside you,
Your body says something else.
It speaks in a muffled voice of the freedom it longs for
To simply let go and weep.
It speaks of its most earnest yearning
To let go its armor
So it can reveal the supple fragrance of your true existence.

How I long to know you this way,
And long to show you my own supple fragrance.
Supple body to supple body,
Fragrant heart to fragrant heart
Pressed up against each other,
Close enough to catch the fleeting opportunity to become One;
Feeling and felt, sense and sensed, observer and observed.

In these imagined moments,
We are free to explore each other in the ripeness of the present
Where the touch of our souls
Explodes every particle of the Universe
Just as Love intends.

What is the illusion that lies within,
Telling us fibs about our true identity?
What is this illusion that hangs between us,
Stopping us from knowing each other,
In this most sacred way?

My own rigidity flares when I experience
the clear outline of your boundaries,
But I choose to challenge my own harshness,
For something from within you calls me forward.

Feeling my way along your ridges,
I look for an opening, some entrance into that
Sweet, sweet spot I see so clearly
On my heart’s radar screen.
I know there is a way in.

My fear of rejection suddenly voices its objections,
“Not too fast, not too hard.
Be careful.
We’re walking the line between invitation and invasion.”

I sense the opening I know is close at hand.
What greeting do I speak to let you know
I am here at your doorstep?
What is my heart’s invitation to your heart,
One that I know will find the center of softness longing to accept?

We are like two bumbling fools,
Crashing through the dark,
Feeling our way towards something that is already here in our company.
It waits for us to forgive ourselves the messiness of human love.

What if we could just let it be messy?
What if we let go into the unknown, so we might find the place where we can stand side by side, two equals, yet different in our own uniqueness?

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