The divine feminine urge[1]

to dirty my boots by trudging through a globby mass of mud puddled in the middle of the forest, chickadees chattering through the trees above me, lost in the middle of this place and not exactly knowing the way back to my car, and being okay with that.

My phone safely away, forgetting that world for a while. The cold air vacuuming up my monthly moodswing, the trees breathing in my toxicity, the atmosphere releasing pressure in the form of

light white flurries
tearing holes in the landscape.
I look inside.

  1. I have no idea what “the divine feminine” is. It sounds like old gender stereotypes wrapped up in a New Age packaging. This post is inspired by another blog post I read, where the author was talking about her “divine feminine urge” to be pampered, take luxurious baths, get her hair done, get new clothes, etc. There’s nothing wrong with these things, they’re relaxing for many people, and romanticizing life is fun, so the post got me thinking what would my ~divine feminine(?) urge~ be? ↩︎