A few years ago, my womens circle had a month of Kali. To begin with, I almost felt repulsed by her: by her anger, destruction and ferocity. During my travels with her for a month, I came to a kind of deep and loving friendship with her. She was the mother who would destroy those things that did not serve me. She was the best friend who would clear away my path so I could move forward. She was the daughter who transformed my life over and over, upside down until I was right way up. She showed me the grace in letting go, the miracle of cutting away, the blessing of allowing death in so I could be reborn. I travelled around India a few months ago with my sisters, mother and my best friend - my lover. When we landed all I heard was the deepest, thrumming heartbeat of the land: the sound of Kali. She was everywhere there, mingling on the street corners between brahman cows and threadbare dogs and beautiful, adorned women and beggars. She swam in the Mama Ganges River, between the sewerage, and the funerial pyres and the thousands of lit candles wafting on the water like glowing prayers. She was the gossamer river of energy touching and connecting everyone and everything: clearing away, crumbling to destruction, loss, hope, possibility, newness. In Khajuraho, near the Kama Sutra temples, our guide weaves us to a temple near the back of overgrown gardens. "This is the Temple for Kali," his yellow pan-stained teeth grinned. My eyes wide, I take my shoes off, and bare feet on stone, walk into the dark chamber inside. Kali seems only a breath away here, sitting enveloped in her silence and her mystery. I touch my head to the ground and whisper prayers to her. "Thank you for showing me the way of destruction to new life. Thank you for fighting for what is right and what is not. Thank you for showing me my path. Thank you for showing me how to be brave. Thank you..." There is a commotion at the door. Two silent guards stand at the entrance, white eyes shining, waiting to lock the temple. My love whispers: Time to go honey. Time to leave. When our plane's feet left the Delhi tarmac, propelling us away from India, I cried. My lover cried. It was like being born from the Great Goddess: at once deeply blessed for having been within her womb and a part of her beat, but also the pain of being a breathless newborn, skin bare, in a new world. I now walk the path of remembering her lessons and living them in my own life. Kali has become a Goddess in my pantheon, a companion to my spirit. Her love and her gifts have changed me deeply, and for that I am deeply blessed.
Brightest blessings to you Goddess Danielle ~ and Goddess Carrie. Thank you for the work you are doing in this world.
Big smiles, love & light, Leonie
Danielle LaPorte
· 1 year ago
gorgeous sharing. I hear you...Kali is courage. keep on, xo D
All Comments
I travelled around India a few months ago with my sisters, mother and my best friend - my lover. When we landed all I heard was the deepest, thrumming heartbeat of the land: the sound of Kali. She was everywhere there, mingling on the street corners between brahman cows and threadbare dogs and beautiful, adorned women and beggars. She swam in the Mama Ganges River, between the sewerage, and the funerial pyres and the thousands of lit candles wafting on the water like glowing prayers. She was the gossamer river of energy touching and connecting everyone and everything: clearing away, crumbling to destruction, loss, hope, possibility, newness.
In Khajuraho, near the Kama Sutra temples, our guide weaves us to a temple near the back of overgrown gardens. "This is the Temple for Kali," his yellow pan-stained teeth grinned. My eyes wide, I take my shoes off, and bare feet on stone, walk into the dark chamber inside. Kali seems only a breath away here, sitting enveloped in her silence and her mystery. I touch my head to the ground and whisper prayers to her. "Thank you for showing me the way of destruction to new life. Thank you for fighting for what is right and what is not. Thank you for showing me my path. Thank you for showing me how to be brave. Thank you..."
There is a commotion at the door. Two silent guards stand at the entrance, white eyes shining, waiting to lock the temple. My love whispers: Time to go honey. Time to leave.
When our plane's feet left the Delhi tarmac, propelling us away from India, I cried. My lover cried. It was like being born from the Great Goddess: at once deeply blessed for having been within her womb and a part of her beat, but also the pain of being a breathless newborn, skin bare, in a new world. I now walk the path of remembering her lessons and living them in my own life.
Kali has become a Goddess in my pantheon, a companion to my spirit. Her love and her gifts have changed me deeply, and for that I am deeply blessed.
Brightest blessings to you Goddess Danielle ~ and Goddess Carrie.
Thank you for the work you are doing in this world.
Big smiles, love & light,
Leonie
keep on,
xo
D