Crimson blossom

After writing my last blog-thing last night, something more occurred to me this morning, which should probably have been obvious – but I’ve been following this slow train of thought/feeling through floodwaters whilst short on sleep… so it all comes into focus slowly.

What occurred was this: for me, it seems my arrival into womanhood has two faces. One is the rising up of my woman psyche out of the protective slumber she was put in as a child; this is an ongoing journey home into myself. The other is very much a somatic, anatomical thing, and it has at its source the surgery I’ll be having at some point around a year from now, which feels absolutely necessary, to complete my arrival, and has a strong ritual significance for me that I’m still learning about.

So my arrival into womanhood will involve a kind of menarche after all. It will be my first and last. As a woman, I will be born in blood. Ordinary, and magical.

*****

It does feel odd to me that I’m dwelling so much on the blood face of womanhood at the moment. But then again not odd too. I had in mind a flower unfolding, when I started to write all this, so I googled crimson blossom at random to see what images were out there – and found this piece of art by Julia Kunin called Crimson Blossom. Strange are the ways of coincidence. Sometimes it the blood, and sometimes it’s the forest.

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