We often carry what was never meant to be ours.
In the subtle realms of connection, we can unconsciously take on the unintegrated material of others… especially when our own energy isn’t anchored or clearly tended… a generational, cellular and psychic osmosis, where unclaimed emotions and unmet aspects of those we’ve loved, trusted, or surrendered to settle within us like a quiet echo.
Sticky + Lingering.
Dust, stones and thorns left behind.
This is part of the mystery of being relational, permeable human +++ when we are un-embodied… inattentive to the subtleties of what we’re absorbing or mirroring… we become more permeable.
There’s a pattern I’ve been observing.
Subtle, but unmistakable.
Women… ( also insert just plain ole’ humans ;) walking around with a frozen masculine energy in their fields.
A holding that isn’t natural.
A posturing that doesn’t quite belong.
Rising, Powerful, Wise, Creative Women…
Though, they might not all yet know it.
They’ve inherited something that embeds itself quietly.
Beneath the skin.
Beneath the breath.
They claimed and chose to carry something that is frozen in time… to protect themselves.
At first, it may seem like survival.
But over time, it becomes her posture. Her pattern. Her protection.
It protects from the sensation of what is absent around her… what is needed to hold and receive her in full form +++ she has forgotten that it’s not hers.
It moves with them… quietly echoing through how they work, how they lead, how they love.
Energetic echoes of former unions.
Not always visible, but deeply felt.
This is not a flaw or failing, but a beautiful resilience shaped by necessity.
She forgot how to honour both the Witness and the Vessel… the essence of Shiva and Shakti within.
She simply took on what went un-held.
Which is why we have to learn to return what isn’t ours.
To grieve what never got to fully live within.
Not just from their own lived experience, but from long-forgotten lineages… energies that, unclaimed, didn’t simply dissolve. They froze.
+++ because the world demanded women stay standing … keep moving, leading, nurturing, holding … she gathered those frozen fragments and placed them inside her own body. She built herself around them. Learned to carry what no one else would claim.
The masculine, at its essence, is sacred structure. Presence. Conscious awareness. The container through which the feminine, as life’s wild creative force, moves and expresses. But in the absence of that steady, witnessing presence parts of the feminine field took on what had no home.
Unclaimed grief.
Unexpressed tenderness.
Abandoned strength… these energies didn’t disappear.
They settled. Froze. Wove themselves into the body, into the posture, into the voice and heartbeat of the feminine collective.
What we feel now is not merely personal pain, but a collective inheritance… an echo in the hips, the jaw, the womb + the nervous system.
The tension between softness and survival.
Between longing and learned independence.
Between innate receptivity and the armour built to endure.
But this is not a story of blame.
It’s a story of remembering.
Because just as the feminine holds the capacity to receive and transmute, she also holds the power to inspire the remembering of the whole masculine… not as the rigid protector, but as the sacred witness.
The one who stays.
Who listens.
Who holds without grasping.
Who steadies the space so the creative current of life might move freely +++ In doing so, she can soften. Not into collapse, but into her rightful fullness.
When a woman begins to thaw and to inhabit herself not as a vessel for others but as a sovereign field of her own making, she invites the sacred masculine back into its rightful form… within herself and also for the world.
Presence meets pulse.
Stillness meets motion.
Witness meets creation.
Shiva meets Shakti.
This is the work.
The remembering.
The reunion.
The restoration.
A woman who no longer carries what was never hers… who reclaims both the vessel and the witness within… becomes a force of nature… a creative field of her own sacred design +++ in her wholeness, she calls the world to remember its own.
( a radically unfinished piece I am working on... but aren't we all radically unfinished ;) xx sara
Love this Sara!! So so true! I notice this in my visual field…more expansive to the left than to the right…I notice when I sense and feel what is present for me every day that my right side is often less present or calling out for some love. And yes…this is a patterning held by so many of us…and leaning into it and exploring it with awe and wonder helps us to re-member it in our own sacred vessels…so beautifully laid out here…thanks for this! 🙏