It is said that on the Holy Isle of Iona, on the west coast of Scotland, the Divine Feminine’s presence can be felt. The archaic rock formations are some of the oldest on the planet, possibly 1500 million years old. The Divine Feminine walked the coast, breathed in the air, ate by the craggy edges of these ancient rock formations. I imagine she imbued nature itself in each life form.

She the Wisdom Sophia, “the manifestation of God’s presence in the world”[1] offers a view of the earth beyond the ego’s arrogance, a cosmic evolutionary view of who we are and who we again can become; one with all evolutionary being’s. In absorbing the feminine we become one and the same, free of the binary distinction of the “other”, which separates us, leaving the fullness of who we are abandoned and unknown to ourselves.

So what must it mean to imbue life within us? To graciously fall into ourselves and swoon to our presence? It is to be so close in, so connected to the pulsing nature of life itself we become one. To intuit what each cell needs to thrive, how inextricably linked each tree is to its neighbor, whether of the same germinated seed or not. To take in the honeyed vanilla smell of the sweet grass in the wet meadows, marshes, bogs and cool mountain canyons, called “ the sweet smelling hair of Mother Earth.”[2] To understand the essence or each organism and the necessity of its life force on another. Without thy neighbor thee will wither and die. Thy sense of purpose will blossom in the shadow and light of the other.

Christopher Pramuk says of Wisdom- Sophia, “ she comes alive in the dance itself, In the pregnant spaces between speech and silence, solitude and community delighting in God’s creation and in the simplest acts of presence, vulnerability, and love between people.”[3]

It is true that all beings’ paths are linked to one another. We know this in the ways we are drawn to one another, see ourselves in the other, rely on the other for sustenance, are in need of sentient contact for our survival and in the ways we keep seeking.

I have spent the good part of my young adulthood on a path not charted from within. Seeking, always seeking elsewhere. In the eyes of others, through my voyeuristic curiosity. Yet a nagging dissatisfaction and a knowing that came to me in my dreams over the years has beckoned me to search for more. The darkness of that period is almost out of my reach but looms like the passing clouds that hover, dissipate and return just when I begin to lose my inner sight.

How do those storm soaked clouds know when to reappear? I must give them a sign. I must tire of all this internal exploration and wish to be transported from the weariness of work and discernment. Charting ones’ own path can be exhausting. The constant slaying of monsters, real and imagined; the cutting down of thick weeds and brush from the jungle of my psyche that reappear with the seasons of my life are unrelenting and familiar. Again I hear in the recesses of my mind, the invitation to take a new path. In my imagination the path is clear and smooth sailing. There are no impediments. Only a long yellow brick road of discovery. Not the way home but the way forward and through. No flying monkeys. Rather, lush palms, fruit trees cascading waterfalls, a nursery of salmon swimming against the current, braided sweet grass shimmering in the breeze; one route more enticing than the next… All leading to wholeness. The path not taken without trepidation but filled with rewards for the journey. On this journey I emerge full-throated. Heart wide open.

She who falls into herself will be lead on the right path. “ Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” (Unknown)


[1] Paramuk, Christopher, At Play in Creation: Merton’s Awakening to the Divine Feminine, Collegeville, Minesota Liturgical Press, ix.

[2] Kimmerer, Robin Wall, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teaching of Plants, Milkweed Editions, Preface.

[3] Paramuk, Christopher, At Play in Creation: Merton’s Awakening to the Divine Feminine, Collegeville, Minesota Liturgical Press, ix.


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