Home to the Body, Home to the Self

‘Love is the real power. It's the energy that cherishes. The more you work with that energy, the more you will see how people respond naturally to it, and the more you will want to use it. It brings out your creativity, and helps everyone around you flower. Your children, the people you work with--everyone blooms.’

🌺 Marion Woodman

I’ve been so lucky to sit at the feet of some extraordinary mentors—people who carry wisdom not just in their words, but in their way of being. Every time I listen to them, something inside me shifts. Not a loud, dramatic shift, but a subtle opening… a loosening in the chest, a softening in the belly. A quiet invitation to see things more expansively, more creatively.

What I’ve come to feel in these moments is how rare it is to witness the conscious feminine in the world around us. She’s here, yes—but often quietly. Not always in the places we’ve been told to look. And maybe that’s part of her power. When she does appear—in someone’s presence, in a sacred moment, in a gesture that holds real depth—it touches something ancient in us. Something wordless. It’s like a bell inside the body that rings with recognition.

There’s a kind of magnetic pull when we come into contact with her—because she doesn’t perform, she doesn’t demand. She just is. And in her presence, we start to remember. We remember how to listen, how to feel, how to soften. We remember something we’ve always known, but perhaps haven’t been given the language or space to name.

The conscious feminine doesn’t need to be loud to be powerful. She whispers, and yet somehow it’s the most potent thing we hear all week.

The conscious feminine, when we really sit with her, is a return. A return to the parts of ourselves that have always been there, just waiting for us to slow down enough to feel them. It’s not about becoming someone new—it’s about coming home. Back to what’s deep, nourishing, and sacred. Back to what our bones already remember.

This isn’t some airy idea or a fleeting feeling—it’s a full-body experience. The conscious feminine lives in our breath, in the beat of our hearts, in the ache we carry and the joy we’re learning to allow. She asks us to stop performing, to drop out of the overthinking, and root into the wisdom that lives below the surface. The parts that are intuitive, creative, wildly alive. The parts that never left, even if we were taught to silence them.

She is softness, yes—but also fierce. Steady. Rooted. She doesn’t ask us to bypass our pain, but to tend to it. To meet ourselves in the places that have gone quiet with grief or shame, and gently bring breath back into them. This is the work of remembering. Reclaiming. Clearing the old stories and stepping into the truth of who we’ve always been.

And then there’s the mystery—the unconscious. The part of us that dreams, that speaks in images and sensations we don’t always have words for. The conscious feminine listens here, too. She honors what’s unseen, what’s only just beginning to make itself known. She trusts the timing. She doesn’t rush the unfolding.

This path isn’t linear. It’s cyclical, spiraling. A sacred becoming. And it asks us to live not just from the head, but from the whole of our being. To let life move through us—not around us. To speak with our bodies, to lead with our hearts, and to show up with presence, again and again.

The conscious feminine doesn’t need you to be perfect. She only asks that you be real. That you stay curious. That you keep choosing to listen. And when you do, when you begin to embody all of you—your grief, your desire, your strength, your softness—you begin to feel what wholeness really means.