Have you considered the phases of your journey as a female gendered being? Our lives are so multi-layered, and our paths may seem to be laid out for us, from the earliest of ages. Let’s take a moment to consider some of the aspects of being in a feminine body on grandmother earth.
We begin as an infant, toddler, little girl… And when we reach puberty and begin our monthly cycle of bleeding, we become physically able to birth physical children. The experiences of being fertile for 30 plus years, and the hormones that go along with the ability to conceive physical children, is a strong, unrelenting influence in our lives. Many of us may create our identity around this phase, whether we are consciously aware of it or not.
What happens when we stop bleeding and are no longer able to birth physical children? We received a fair amount of information and guidance for our bleeding years, but there is not much to guide us in our non-bleeding years.
It is not uncommon to encounter beliefs that menopause is the end of a woman’s productive years, and that her fate now is to grow old, become increasingly unattractive, and no longer have value in her world.
The good news is that we continue to be fertile, in different ways. We possess all that we need to become matriarchs and caretakers for the coming generations, bringing a different kind of joy and meaning to our own lives and the lives around us.
My girlfriend and co-author, Karin, and I orchestrated some shamanic ceremonies for women about menopause and realized, more information is needed! Our little book explores a shamanic approach to menopause as a Rite of Passage, through connection to all the worlds we live with – the humans, the plants, the animals, spirit, and the minerals. It contains common sense approaches to a wonderful, though little understood, phase in a woman’s life.
We both learned about rites of passage through the teachings of the Deer Tribe Metis Medicine Society, an organization that supports a spiritual path that provides teachings, ceremonies and tools for our human quest for growth. Razel is a shamanic ceremonialist and a senior teacher on this path offering many in-person and online classes. In 2022, at sixty-eight years young, she lives in the high desert of Arizona with her husband of twenty years on a fully off-grid property with chickens and a greenhouse dome growing sustenance all year round.
We invite you to take some moments to read this lovely book and discover more of your potential now. Purchase Experience Menopause with Joy and Empowerment Amazon.com or Smashwords.com
My husband and I were snorkeling in a highly sought-after destination, Le Jardin de Corail, The Coral Garden, off the coast of Taha’a, an island in French Polynesia. Sandwiched in between two motus, two small bits of land, in the pacific ocean, is a lush underwater oasis rich with thriving hard corals, anemones, colorful clams and bright exotic fish that seem so used to being gawked at by lazy swimmers floating along on the current’s dime that they have no problem swimming up to you and along with you.
We were nearing the end of our second self-guided garden tour when I spotted it! A medium-sized reddish octopus clinging to some coral. I got my husband’s attention and we casually drifted over to observe this otherworldly creature. A minute or so later I spotted another octopus, completely camouflaged nearby. This second octopus seemed a bit more shy than the first, and in my best octopian translation seemed to be communicating to the first octopus, “Come on, let’s get outta here.” I’ve read that octopuses (which is the true plural of octopus) communicate through the cups along their tentacles. It’s how they gather and send information. So in a bizarre acrobatic-dance-like-slow-motion movement, the first octopus reached a tentacle out as far as it could possibly reach in an effort to touch its friend as if to send a message, “Don’t leave, it’s safe to stay.” But before it could make contact, the shy octopus slinked out of sight.
I could have spent all day with this magical enchantress, but my life exists a world away. I sent the deepest, utmost gratitude and chanted Nam Myoho Renge Kyo three times to bless and protect her as I said my weepy goodbye, my salty tears merging into the salty ocean. I will likely never see her again, and this brings me great sadness. But I feel blessed in knowing that our connection has been woven forever into the fabric of our souls. May you be touched by God’s tentacle someday.
