The Witches Knew – A Faery’s Tail of Birth and Re-memberance.
Here is a beautiful short story written by one of our amazing volunteers who is so full of wisdom and magic – thank you Becky for writing this story for us to share!
Round and round like a spiral into the ground she goes, planting roots and scattering seeds. This space, this space, this sacred space, without time, without pressure, the oxytocin waves of pleasure. There’s nothing to fear here, said the little girl lost in me, I’m planting my roots in the ground like a tree. As she looked up the room glowed with wisdom, the air felt full, full of all of those who had come before and all those who were to follow. All the ancestors; there to hold that space, that space, that sacred space. So back within the journey called, to be disturbed would make the fool, as this is where the story starts of the little minds and their little hearts. No one else’s work for sure than the body that grew and the tiny soul that chose it.
The water, the water, the deep warm water, a comfort beyond the known. There’s no pain here, said that little girl again. What a wondrous, wondrous thing to be, a woman in labour birthing free. Inside the body calls, the body calls, deeper and deeper than anything before. But it’s dark in there, says the little girl again, why yes because you are to bring in the light! So down she goes… What’s happening out there is not hers to know for she seeks the peace to go deep; to retrieve the soul who chose her to keep.
The air tingles with excitement, up she spirals again… Oh my it’s the day… Gosh, how bizarre, well there’s no room here for the magic we need! So she takes these hours as a space just to breathe. At the onset of night here she goes once again, round and round, spiralling, deep into the ground. But this time feels different, she’s journeyed this space, now nothing else matters but why she’s come to this place. This place so deep, so deeply within, within her body, within the earth, within her void…here she goes again. As roots trickle down, they find themselves firmly in her musty soil, within our Mother.
For without these roots she cannot know, the strength and flexibility needed to grow. For growth is how the story changes and humanity’s destiny re-arranges. This is where Mother is born, from Mother, from this space, this space, this beautiful, sacred space.
Last fragments of the mind disperse as she reaches this primal moment, she roars and of course, there she is, she is heard, what beauty, what magic, what truth here does flow. The magic of life, the journey of all, to retrieve that new soul takes everything… everything…everything… Just for a moment the world stops, Mother takes a breath, she breathes through her now, this thread, connecting Earth to her and her to them. For this moment, this is where faeries are born, the creation of all that is magic, this life giving, life changing moment.
So you might see why they would burn us at the stake, why now they just separate us, push us till we break. But we’re changing the world, making new choices, empowering ourselves, raising our voices. So let’s honour the portal we have in our wombs, from Maiden to Crone, let us tend to our wounds. As all those around us, before us, to come will be grateful for all that we change and overcome.
– A short story by Becky Saunders
