Communing with my blood has been one of the most transformative things lately.

Communing with my blood has been one of the most transformative things lately.

This part of me, of all women, that has been shamed, hushed, covered up, prevented, said to be gross.

Last month, when I shared about my experience with it, I asked you guys on my stories if you were intrigued, or grossed out. And many of you were grossed out.

And I feel you.

Something in me has been drawn to this for years.
But I was inching my way there because it felt gross for me too.

I started by wearing a diva cup. And getting to see my blood come out of my body in a chalice was exciting.
But gross.
The first time, I gagged.

Then, I started using period undies.
Touching my blood as I rinsed.
I loved it.
It was exciting to see it all come out and wash away.
Plus, not having to put something inside of me while bleeding heavily felt like the biggest relief.
My cramps lessened.
I started to love my period.
I started to love the opening.

Then, I put blood on my face.
And this was the first time I really had to confront the smell. The body heat. The intensity of what it is to hold and be with your own blood.
I did it slowly.
Wafting it towards me.
Getting acquainted with it.

Now, I’ve been doing this for months.
Still unsure of exactly why, but knowing I must.

This weekend, I went to a river.
I brought my blood in case the mood struck me.
It did.
@jkell30 and I were hanging out at this little cove and for some reason we couldn’t leave.

She said, it feels like you are supposed to mourn here.
Finally I felt it, and said, “I’d like to sit with the river, and hold my blood.”
She asked, “do you need anything from me?”
I almost impulsively said, no, but my internal voice very clearly course corrected me, and said through teary eyes, “can you sit with me?”
She said yes.
We sat.
I landed on this mossy rock and my legs just magically plopped into place like this spot was shaped just for my butt.
I closed my eyes, and the river immediately started moving me.
I rocked.
I shook.
I cried.
My body started waving, as if to move energy up and out.
I started coughing. Releasing.

I can’t tell you what it was about.
It wasn’t about anything.
It wasn’t to get something.
Or to feel better.
Or to be a certain way.
It just was.
It was just true.

I gently touched my blood, and followed where it told me go, placing it on my body. Each touch felt vibrant and full of LIFE.

And then, when I felt complete, I walked over to give some to the river.
To GIVE my life force, to the river, as a thank you.
As an offering.
And as I bent over to pour it out, I realized, the smell was different.
I smelled the river, the mineral-y, fresh water magic.
I smelled my blood, the mineral-y, vivid magic.

They were the same.
The life force.
The pulse of Her.

And I realized,
We think this is gross because it IS so intense.
Like this loud, rushing river, that holds the snow fall, the force of the waterfall, the minerals of the earth beneath it.
Like our vibrant, pulsing blood, that holds all the feeds us, that fuels us. That which makes us ALIVE.
Yes.
Touching that is INTENSE.
Because it is EVERYTHING.

But it isn’t gross.
Gross is a mechanism, designed to protect us from having to feel our power.
To feel how fucking spectacularly magical we truly are.
And those with a period, our monthly release is a perfectly packaged gift, to get right in touch with that.
Perfectly packaged with all the nutrients and powers to create an actual human.
Perfectly delivered into our hands.
And offered to the earth.

She isn’t gross.
She is YOU.

🩸💦✨

Swipe to see my face when I realized that they smell the SAME.
I was so excited.

Love you. ♥️

Thank you @jkell30 for holding space for this magical moment.

Originally written August 30, 2021.