We have no model for realized feminine power. Though it expresses in myriad ways, we still live in a culture that insists on using masculine metrics to describe what the world has nearly forgotten.
We have let men believe we need their ‘containment.’
His ticket to feeling important is her ticket to remaining small enough to fit within his conceptualization of woman as object.
The best the modern woman can hope for is the modern repackaging of a golden oldie: from withholding until he commits, to anointing him as the dominant one in the relationship.
A fully liberated woman submitting can be a fun exploration.
A not-yet liberated woman submitting in order to liberate is backwards.
We don’t need to be contained by our consort on the ground; we need lovers who can fly with us, like the dakinis we are.
To break through the membrane of dualistic thought with arousal, attention, and hyperfocus, to become the body of infinite potential and infinite possibility. Anything less than the valence-piercing velocity of flight is a mimic of true liberation.
‘You’re too masculine to fit in my container’ is Mara, returning yet again to neg the Buddha into subservience, riding in with infinite arrows we can catch mid-flight and transform into flowers falling through the air beneath us.
Get free, and you can go anywhere, do anything.
But don’t delude yourself: that yearning to submit is not true feminine liberation—it’s avoidance of the courageous endeavor it truly is.