#24 WLFC Empty me like an orgasm
A call to LESS, the pace of Jesus the man & stopping the inner compass from spinning
Does the thought of emptying yourself turn you on too?
I saw this image of a pool on Instagram with a woman sitting in it and it read, “The Feminine urge to become a monument to emptiness.”
Like a gush of an orgasm and you are left in mindless clarity.
Yeah, that.
I often feel this overwhelming urge to empty myself after life has turned upside down and I would give anything to start fresh. I did it by moving here.
But for the purposes of this letter, I want to talk about the desire to empty ourselves when everything is generally a-okay, especially to the outside world, and yet you cannot Rest. You are literally restless, “without rest.”
I would like to call this “the spinning compass moments.”
When my inner compass feels aimless. What’s it all for? Or when it starts spinning and I’m stuck in a loop of turning this way and that trying to follow where it’s telling me to go. I try something, dead end. I go another route, that’s not it. Maybe this, yes this! Actually, no I’m over it. Why is nothing working? What am I doing wrong?
This has happened, I can’t tell you how many times in my career. Ask my ex-husband who God bless him, did a stellar job of keeping up with my fickle self and honestly learned to embrace it as a part of my adaptive nature, which I think is true to a certain extent.
It actually feels quite typical of the wounded Feminine, the undeveloped Maiden archetype who has not yet mastered the Feminine’s empty vessel of genius. She innately seeks so deeply to be a vessel filled with life and yet doesn’t have a grasp on it, so she is the baby creatrix who starts and stops, who lives in fear of fully opening to Life; thus, she remains empty but not Empty.
In those moments, I can’t help but wonder what’s actually happening and how do we get our compass to show us the right way towards our very own monument, like the breathtaking Nike of Samothrace seen below.
Heads up, this week’s letter feels esoteric and poetic. Ironically, seemingly, without direction, and yet it’s a stream of consciousness that I hope will ground you somewhere like it did for me, even if it didn't feel wrapped in a bow.
