Sacred Water

Last summer I attended an Afro-Contemporary dance workshop. It all started quite innocently, with some basic arms and hips motions, and gradually became raw, pure, life-giving energy, one of the dance movements being a metaphor of rocking a child in one’s arms. At which point I couldn’t follow through with the dance routine, because I felt naked, exposed, I felt that I would be displaying my sexuality and my femininity too freely.
Around the same time, I attended the screening of “Sacred Water”. The title of a fantastic documentary about female ejaculation and sexual pleasure in Rwanda, and the source of lots of contemplation on the topic of female energy, sexuality and creation.
Why was I inhibiting my very nature? Why was I trying to censor the natural flow of energy in my body? Why was I denying my womanhood, sweeping it under the rug, minimising it and disregarding its powerful call? Could be education? Could be societal constraints? Could be years and years of feeling that my curvy body doesn’t conform to norms of beauty? Could be self-doubt and deprecation? Could be shame?
Maybe a bit of all, but mostly, the fear of having to face something so powerful, so overwhelming, so life-changing as the experience of fully embracing one’s true nature, in a guilt-free manner, being unapologetically and uncompromisingly woman, on a deeply spiritual level. And by understanding and accepting my female sexuality, it suddenly dawned on me that something so valuable, something that holds within the key of creation should be manifested under circumstances of the highest safety and sacredness.


I was probably going to shy away from reflecting upon the sacred water, in all of its forms of existence, had it not been for a film I watched tonight, “Black Mother”, whose brilliant director, Khalik Allah, inspired me to go the extra mile, to actually discuss femininity, a topic that has been profaned by taboo, only to be trivialised into pornography.
The Universe, in its generosity, always brings the answers to our questions right onto our very path. Unsurprisingly, I discovered songs and movies that associate womanhood with water, I had endless transcendental discussions with the beautiful people in my life, who had opinions to share on the matter, I opened myself to experiences, and I allowed my mind to wander.
I started carefully observing the nourishing effects that water has on my body when I drink it, the cleansing effects that water has on my body when I bathe, as if performing a perpetual baptism. I started cherishing the rain, its sound, its strength, its softness, its purpose, its life-changing effect on Mother Nature and on life itself.
I visited a lake, whom I bothered by tossing a pebble in its waters, and who answered by creating revolted, determined ripples in response to my aggression. Yet it also taught me that Water, just like Love, is forgiving and resilient, in its infinite strength and infinite patience. And so is the female energy that I have been repressing for the longest part of my adult life. Water is the guardian of emotions, it is brave, it adapts to any situation, defeats any challenge and continues its existence untroubled, unscarred.
These being said, I am happy to report that recently, I practiced the Afro dance routine in a safe and private environment, allowing my body to manifest itself through motion, to embrace its natural and spiritual potential, its infinite capacity of pleasure and creation.
And with this article, I encourage you, my beautiful ladies, to let go of stereotypes, of shame and ideas of what femininity is, and tune in to the sound of your inner sacred water, and you, my darling men, to cherish, respect and be grateful for the women in your life, and support them in being true to themselves, soft and strong divine, female energy.

Love,
Vladiana

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