Death by 1000 cuts.
She killed him but he did not die because he let it wash right through him.
He did not offer any resistance.
He let go of his opinions, his ownership, his pain, his insecurities, his stories, his inadequacies and he just listened.
She spoke of the death of the fairytale and the lover who wrapped her up, whisked her away, serenaded her, promised her the world and then dropped her from a great height.
When she stood up from that fall she met him as woman, not as hurt little girl but as powerful woman and then she guided him to a place where he could let her go.
She thought he would let her go safely and lovingly but he was in to much pain, or perhaps he was racked with guilt, or maybe he was just a narcissist. Or maybe he needed to thrust her away so he could let go.
Who knows?
He let go
It seemed like a whirlwind, only days and hours before there was the promise of safety, security, a home, a family, a brood of children, of song, laughter, beautiful things, French doors, love poems, blissful holidays, the doting man who wrote and played her songs.
And then it was all gone.
Just like that.
Now she is faced with herself again and she has a choice.
Who was thrust away?
Was it the woman or the little girl?
And what has been shattered ?
Is it the little girls dreams sourced in that feeling of being in Daddy’s lap. Or is it the She who stands now in the face of what is broken and emerges as woman, powerful woman, true woman.
She is no longer afraid to bloom or to blossom.
She is exquisite in her brokeness because it shattered only that which kept the little girl attached to the woman.
Now she is free and for the first time because as she stands in it realises she understands that there is nothing to protect herself from.
That nothing can hurt her.
That she does not need Daddy nor the presence of a man to make any of it safe.
She is alone.
But she is not broken by her aloneness.
She stands in the full force of it and declares to herself
“I am woman”
The world she walks in now is different.
She no longer cares about boxes to be ticked or ways that she is supposed to be.
She is free and she is ready to serve.
She is ready to open her heart to the mystery of life and let go completely into the bosom of the She.
For She is That.
She is The She.
And she is free.
And now she is open to man, for man to claim her as a woman in her power.
Man comes to her and he says “Allow me my purpose”
“I allow you” she says
“Allow me my freedom” he says
“You are free” she says as she drinks him in.
“Let me go” he says
“I have” she says
“I own my pain and my love” she says.
“And I open my heart and I trust and I stop protecting” they say
And then they walk into the world, and breathe fully and deeply.
I breathe in the lifeforce of the earth and I fill myself with all that replenishes me, all that enriches me.
I am Woman. I am whole. I am the circle.
I am Man. I am whole. I am the the straight line.
“I will hold you” he says.
“We shall see” she says.
Death by one thousand cuts cuts.
How will you take it.
My intent is not to kill you, not without your wish.
“But you have asked it of me” she says
And so I will.
I will test your openness as man. I will test how trustable you are. I will test you to face my storm as woman, to face my changing seasons, my moods, my loves, my fantasies, my fairytales, my ever changing desires. I will test you to see if it opens you or if it cuts you down.
Death by a thousand cuts.
“I breathe it in” he says.
I open to you and I let go of all that is about my hiding in this world.
I let go of all all that is about my unworthiness, my failures and my fears. I let go of the little boy and his hurt, his pain and rejection. The little boy who screams and punches and kicks and then retreats to the back of the cave sullen, quiet, ashamed, closed.
I breathe you in as man. I drink you in. I breathe you in and hold all that you throw my way.
And as I allow so do you allow yourself.
You go deeper and deeper and the cuts are everywhere now and I breathe them in and I breathe them through me and I realise that I have not died at all.
I am so completely alive, so completely present.
And I embrace you as woman.
I feel your hair. I smell you. I taste your smoothness and love washes over and through me.
Not the love of a man wanting to spill his seed or thrust his engorged cock.
That is not love, that is neediness, desire and attachment.
That is a little boy who needs to ejaculate.
This is the love of a man who can hold woman.
This is a man whose blood flows completely through him not just into his engorged manhood.
“I am Man” he says
“I am Woman” she says
And they embrace and they trust, they let go and they fall and fly.
Author (Mike) note - I first wrote this in August 2010 as a journal riff. It is amazing to read it all these years later and know it to be true in the ebb and flow of life. Thank you to these 4 women for teaching me commitment to woman. My Mother Charmene. My life partner Caroline and my Daughters, Mackenzie and Stevie