The Radiant Womb Webs

There is a story, an unfolding, happening within and without me, that is opening doors to the radiant womb webs, and the True Medicine of the Great Mother.

Like all good, true stories, borne of the Womb of Love, it is brighter and wider and deeper and more real than anything we could think to imagine. Real life, real death, real birth—they are always more incredible than anything we could imagine.

As I begin to enter the third trimester, and spiral deeper and deeper into the descent towards the birth canal, I see more and more clearly. More clearly in the dark, especially now, as we spiral towards solstice, the darkest night, and the birth of Christ.

Like all of you Mothers, I know, who have walked before me, and after me, there is a clarity, a diamond light, a vastness that is beginning to arrive. What matters is becoming clear. So much of the dross is falling away.

The true midwives, doulas, sisters, dragon mothers, Grail Queens, handmaids, night nurses and kitchen cooks— they are arriving, right on cue, in the moment I realize what I need. It is as is they have all been waiting in the wings for me to remember to remember, and call them, before they can take their places in the story, and arrive. Some are here for Richy, some for me, some for the baby—and all taking their places to serve the birth of the Trinity.

The path itself is becoming less and less about choice, or even “creation” and more and more about bowing to what is occurring.

There is a primal fear, and a deep, ancient trust.

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I haven’t even fully shared yet, because I haven’t even felt fully ready to share yet, about the journey of leaving Kauai. It feels like so much to tell.

I have snippets of threads and stories laid like scraps of fabric all over my room, each one an entire portal. Each one asking to be written. Each one important to the tapestry of medicine my life is. They want to be flowery, but what’s most important is that I just lay them out. Simple. This is what happened.

So yes, we left Kauai, to come home to Alabama. Baby wanted to. I kept making sure—‘Baby, you’ve made it. We made it to the crystalline golden grids of Kauai. You’re safe here. Life can be easy. There’s rainbow light everywhere. Are you sure?”

This child was very clear – “Take me home. I know what I am doing.”

I’ll never forget the day I was alone, in ceremony, on Moloa’a, in prayers with the island, and I found the courage to ask (only because it was finally time to ask): ‘Show me where I become Mother. Show me where I give birth.

And in a flash, I saw the barren trees, and the winter twilight or sunrise, and I saw the hills right in the city center of Alabama, and I saw a rental house, and I knew. I didn’t choose. I saw. And I bowed.

This child knew. And he got exactly what he wanted—conceived and will be born in the same neighborhood, nestled in the city suburbs and edges of Red Mountain, in Birmingham, Alabama, into the final edges of winter and the barren trees. And he knows exactly what he is doing. And I trust.

And the womb workers are arriving.

And the web is becoming more and more crystalline here.

And the dragons are returning to this land, through my body, and the bodies of so many.

And the amanita are sprouting.

And sisters are showing up to answer the calls, even the ones I haven’t yet had space to even consider making.

And the womb web is starting to show itself, to come alive, to dance.

And She is being borne here again.

And I have absolutely no idea what is occurring—I am watching, just like you, as this deep, ancient, ancestral, primordial Life, is born.

Just as the winter night peaks, just as the night blooms, just as the Christlight is coming again.

We are readying ourselves to be born.