[This post is from the October 2020 newsletter – click here to read it.]
What’s the recipe for a symptomless menopause? Read on and see.
Wikipedia defines menopause as, “Menopause, also known as the climacteric, is the time in most women’s lives when menstrual periods stop permanently, and they are no longer able to bear children. Menopause typically occurs between 49 and 52 years of age. Medical professionals often define menopause as having occurred when a woman has not had any menstrual bleeding for a year.” In my opinion, this is a disgusting, dry, and brittle definition and obviously written by someone who’s never experienced this most powerful transformation in a real, healthy way.
When the energy in my body was focussed more on procreation, I followed the lunar impulse and shed the lining of my uterus as an emblem of my procreativity. It transpired every twenty-eight days so that I would be reminded rhythmically of my innate endowment. It was a beloved contract between me and the orchestrator of my biology, and delicious impulse for my animating wisdom. It was never just about producing offspring. I’d hate to see how Wiki diminishes the uterus!
I was in a state of constant creation: researching, writing books, and serving beloved patients. The cessation of my menses was never meant to be reduced to a missed opportunity as a so-called ‘breeder.’ It was never about the clinical capacity to ‘bear children’ that defined my innate capacities, but a more spiritual connectivity that gifted me with capacities ordained to the divine nature of my sex. Why do you think our wombs are heart-shaped? So we don’t forget that we’re deeply and abidingly loved as co-creators.
When my menses ebbed over a 2.5 year span almost 10 years ago, I knew I was receiving the clear signal, “You’ve got this. I know you won’t forget the rhythm of being a creative wisdom bearer.” I knew that my full capacities as a bodacious, full throttle, knowledge-lover would now come to ripen fully through consciousness.
My creative forces ramped. My thoughts, crystal clear. I wrote a book about self-education and another one on natural birth. I felt more assured than ever before that my pristine voice came not from my head, but from my loins. I was fully confident in what I was ordained to be; my functional purpose was more luscious, rich, and steeped in skill and gnostic juice than ever before.
I was creating a strand of rare pink pearls that would polish into a legacy. I was transmuting and transcending into the woman I was wholly meant to be without any trappings of youthful insecurity and none of that energy was leaking, for any other purpose but to fully be.
And to top it all off, our sex became a spiritual communion of an order wholly otherworldly. Gone was the need for birth control. Woohoo! Hello to an orgasmic liberty never realized prior. Over the last ten years I would never reduce what I’ve experienced as just ‘climacteric,’ and neither should you. Frankly, Wiki, you can go to hell!