Awakening Kali

Ingrid Bacci wrote a book called The Art of Effortless Living.  I liked it, so in March of 2008 I went to her workshop at Kripalu. I signed up for a private session, and it was pretty amazing.  Here are my journal entries:

Energized.  Invigorated.  Every cell blazing with energy.  My feminist anger has been reawakened!  I did a session with Ingrid yesterday afternoon.  She’s a medical intuitive and does bodywork.  She said the tiredness was not organic, that my father was still holding me down.  When she said “Where do you feel your father in your body?” I writhed with disgust.  He’s in my upper chest, a slimy sleazy energy.  I raged and roared — sabotaged by coughing.  But I did the work.  After the session it seemed like the sleazy energy was on the surface, not under my skin, and I imagined peeling it off like duct tape.

Yes, I can feel the anger blazing through me, and it’s not up in my head, it’s in my chest and upper arms.  Kali Durga Namo Nama!

What’s really amazing is how the energy is blazing from my chest and shoulders and upper arms, calm and strong in my legs, cool in my head.

I want to work on a new version of my autobiography “How I came to find god in myself, and learned to love her fiercely.” Oh!  I can use my idea of a circular book, and Lore’s of a book of goddesses. How about Insect-mother as goddess of Dead Death and Kali Durga as Goddess of Death & Rebirth and Mama Greene as Goddess of Nourishment.  Karen!  Laura Shannon!  Deena Metzger!   Lore, Kayla, Beverly, Lynelle.  Joanna Macy.  Elizabet Sahtouris.  Vandana Shiva.  O my O my!!   How about Bella and Shenanigan.  Artemis Huntress as Goddess of the Moon.  And there’s the excitement again.  But in my chest, not my head.

Also, when my energy gets really quenched: 1) lie on the ground, completely give weight to Mother Earth as I did in my dance, relax, surrender completely for as long as is needed.  2) Throw off the Oppressive Father God, peel his slime off your body, it is not part of you, it is stuck on the outside.  They tore the Bastille stone from stone.  I too can throw off oppression and dance for joy.

O yes — Dionysius.  He belongs in my book of Goddesses.

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