Letting ‘Her’ Out

“You see, witches were just women who knew how to heal themselves. They were burnt at the stake and drowned for wanting to bare an ankle, go without a husband, and masturbate rather than go see the local doctor for their ‘hysteria.’ ”

“One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul.” – Clarissa Pinkola-Estes


It’s happening again. Last night I couldn’t sleep, after a day of writing, trying to numb, and my body talking to me and trying to get my attention using pain as its messenger. I fell asleep, deep sleep that is, around 6am and woke up at 2pm, knowing I had to get up, I had writing to do. (who the fuck am i?) Got out of bed, straightened up, did a few chores and commenced writing again (I repeat who the fuck am I) Sitting on the chaise lounge chair my dad lugged up two flights of stairs, with music playing on my other laptop as I type on this one. A fan aimed at me from across the room, lots of sari material I have draped over everything sinuously dancing in the breeze, the front door is open… screen locked, it’s raining outside and it smells fabulous. The only break I’m taking from writing is to go get the power cord for this computer from the bedroom and if I am to be honest, I don’t want to stop writing long enough to get it, but necessity dictates.

I’m resonating with SO much, and on a constant basis. I go online to check my emails; gmail, aol, then SNHU, I receive newsletters and such, and skim them, yanno, just peruse to see if it’s something that necessitates or warrants a deeper look. So this is what happens, I start reading and I’m transported into a world of passionate acquiescence. OMG I exclaim to myself, YES YES, this is exactly what I’m feeling, this is my tribe (blink blink) these are my people. OMG are they going to be happy they found me. (laughs) and then oh shit, but I left that ‘practice’ behind, am I being called, what do I do, OMG. Then research the tribe, sometimes penning a note on how they impacted my soul. The whole day is dedicated to a sensory explosion due to the information I read and resonated with. I mean are they peeking in my window up here on the mountain???? WTF? ARE THERE THIS MANY PEOPLE GOING THROUGH SHIT LIKE THIS???? And that my luvs, is both a good and bad feeling. Damnit am I not special?? Oh. that means I’m not alone and many have made it through this shit. I let the information marinate inside, touch my soul where it needs to and try to ascertain how I’m to use the information.

This has been happening EVERYDAY. I cannot possibly join every tribe, group or coven, so it is my job to just soak up what applies to me, but DAMNIT it’s EXCITING. Can we say #informationOVERLOAD but it’s good shit…. Just not sure what to DO about all of it. I mean for example…

“You are not here to keep secrets.
You are not here to swallow stories and shove them down your throat.
You are not here to choose the color of your cage.
You are here to shake the very foundation that suffering is built upon.
And that is silence.
Speak, woman, speak.
Let the world explode if it may.
Then let them watch as you rise from the ashes.
You are loved.
You are stronger than you know yet”. — The Babe Collective

No I’m not fucking here to keep secrets. . Secrets perpetuate abuse, secrets RUIN children and families. I’ve kept fucking secrets for most of my life and let me share with you my tribe, it is the number one reason I was punished, and/or ostracized. #FUCKsecrets we are not meant to hold toxic shit inside, especially at young tender ages.
So, no I’m not meant to swallow stories and shove them down my throat.. I WILL NOT SHUT UP.. or BE QUIET. I’m here to make a RUCKUS!!!! Ha! I AM HERE TO SHAKE THE VERY FOUNDATION THAT SUFFERING IS BUILT UPON. Sighs (gotta sit with that one for a minute.)  Pain is inevitable, SUFFERING IS OPTIONAL. We need NOT suffer, so why do so many SUFFER???? Because we’re taught to be the exact opposite of who we are innately and our spirit trapped in the cage (the one we are not here to choose the color of) is screaming for someone to notice and rescue it. We fragment into archetypes and we have the ability to heal that eventually but WE DON’T KNOW THAT for years. (I am in a telecourse right now learning about my archetypes and how to integrate them, POWERFUL SHIT)
‘Speak, woman, speak
Let the world explode if it may
Then let them watch as you rise from the ashes.’ (Babe Collective)

Wow. We have powerful things to say, experiences to contribute, nuggets of wisdom to love forward, so FUCK what they told you. DO NOT SHUT UP, DO not be quiet, open your mouth, speak, conjure magical transformations with words that only YOU can utter. OMG, EACH OF US MATTERS. How powerful is THAT????? What if it’s ….. true? What if each of us does matter, even the person sitting there thinking that their worthless. That’s a story, a lie you were told, it’s UP TO YOU whether you want to believe it or not.

I can never go back to the low resonating woman I was, to do that would be to truly face the death of my soul. So onward and upward into the unknown (fo shizzle) crazy shit… but the best expression of ME is through and at the other side of these experiences! Come join me, let’s strip the layers of bullshit off and shine like the fucking wild women and men we are!

Full article by The Babe Collective here ———-> The Babe Collective


Published by: Shanti Shaharazade

Told to write it all down, I do, finally. It took me from 1991 to now, to surrender to Universe/God/dess (insert name of choice) and to embrace this path with my soul wide open. I love sharing all of my journey with young people to demonstrate that it is possible to choose the light constantly even when face to face with your own darkness. I've used a variety of tools to shed ego's protective barriers like onion layers. I am determined to share the journey, tools and encouragement, being the change I want in the world. If something resonates, touches you, please share, it could do the same for another. Also feel free to share your thoughts, opinions or to voice your disagreement, all points of view are welcome and appreciated, at worst we can agree to disagree. Thank you for stopping by!!! Sat Nam


2 thoughts on “Letting ‘Her’ Out”

  1. Wow, again, my friend. You are on a roll. Crazy (yet not) how things keep showing up that shout to you about what’s up in, with and for you and for so many others as well. You have been emboldened to shout it out, to rattle the chains, to kick at the bars of the cage. So much of what I’m reading is talking about the rise of the Divine Feminine, how the pain and suffering that has been our lot for centuries, is rising to be healed. The festering wounds of repression on all levels, the degradation, the violation and abuse that has been visited upon womankind and has resulted in the degradation of the very life on the Mother Earth is crying out to be healed. We either start healing this or there may be a point of no return. When the face of the Divine Feminine that is revealed in the seeds that produce fruits, vegetables, grains, trees and flowers, when the waters are so polluted they become poison, when the air, her breath, becomes too filled with toxic effluent, what then? Keep opening to your calling and keep on writing! 💖

    Liked by 1 person

    1. So true siSTAR, the sickness and poison run as deep as our calling to be one with univesrse/god/dess to affect change. To make a difference, to add to the world instead of subtracting. To heed the call to serve aka action = LOVE. I’ve been resisting this path my entire life, but there came a point when I tried it every other way, but Universes’, I bow my head in surrender and write. You are quite the writer yourself, beautiful response, and thank you!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s