by Adele Leung
Her fragility misled her to believe that to be whole we must seek completion from the outside. Yet all the searching, seeking, discovering, told her otherwise. Nothing and no one can complete us, without ourselves first realizing the fullness within.
Therefore, broken, in heart, in body, she returns within. Fragmented, she pieced the soul back together with bleeding hands. She finds that some pieces cannot be found and others will always be imperfect, but now she can feel her heart again.
The woman within her is vibrant and dynamic, strong. She is fully open and totally in femaleness to receive. She is love in stillness and compassion. In every heart beat, she continues to tread on the path, simply for her own survival. Although without much angst, the rebellion is there, silent.
With each step she walks, she also holds the hands of all the women who have been experiencing similar. She strips her roles, after being in all of them—the virgin, the whore, the dakini, the lover, the daughter, the wife, the mother, but none of them can fully express her. She rather just calls herself, a woman, an eternal symbol of the moon.
She can feel every heart of every woman. All the madness, the lack of self-love, the feeling of unworthiness, the pulsating desires, the suffocating jealousy. She may not understand, but she accepts. She cries in pain but she accepts. And this acceptance has led her where she is here now.
She will continue to walk on this path, with her arms outstretched. And in her heart, she knows the beauty, the grandiosity, the breath-taking grace and deep inner strength she feels of the female race, will be honored in much greater magnitude when we begin to see ourselves truly, face to face.