Metamorphosis


It is in passing through these transitional swing doors you discover some important and valuable lessons about yourself. A clever woman once said that it always is ourselves we meet in those hallways, those rites of passage, which some call death, some birth, some the feminine and masculine, some fear those stages that involves passing through death, some don’t, but the journey through, with, balancing the two, holds the essence of the magical moment of in between. gOd. Unity. Oneness.

It is hard to maintain any negative outlook, when the reflection turned inside instantly and always leads to lOve.

It is in the pointless arguments She presents herself with. The ego that wants to maintain a pattern, because it feels safe there. Is guarded there. Threatens to turn her to stone. Fear, Impatience and submission to Time. In the imagined self-protection and conclusions about love, the ego will argue absolutes and point to actions taken to maintain the petrified state She now moves through and is trying to break loose from.

Noticing by moving through this phase alone, solely intent to observe and know her every move to carefully make sure she never unintendedly accidentally risks repeating the pattern, hard working her way to release the remains of her ancestral karmic scripts to be the free sOul from across space and time, the Blue sOul She knows She is, one that is not weighed down by the conditions and laws of the karma of this realm, the collective ebbs and flows- influenced by inherited anger on behalf of her Sisters and Mothers and the entire Feminine principle that takes up one half of the whole of the dual laws, waiting, waiting, waiting for the Masculine to find His balance, releasing His ancestral karma, His scripts, the laws and ebbs and flows of His principle. Waiting for Him to let himself be lOved not loved, to see Her again as the receptive principle and the sacredness of what it means.

She is waiting in the hallways somewhere between. Praying for Him. Praying She won’t turn to stone like She has done for eons binding herself to be coming back and trying to break the same tedious pattern of battle between the sexes, praying for endurance, praying for strength, praying for patience, praying for release of ancient patterns. Praying. That the equational principle 1+1 =0 may be.

At night when releasing for a few hours to rest all the transformation, transition, metamorphosis and waiting before She falls asleep, She knows also she is a fountain of blood in the shape of a Girl, and the pain is obvious and felt.

She keeps rocks under her pillow to protect her from turning to Stone.

The Woman Without her Man.

​© 2020 by Camila Reland

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