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  • Writer's pictureDurga Dasi

Dark Side of the Moon


Moon... lunar... feminine... my thoughts flow as a stream in my brain, which strives to articulate feelings that can be only unsaid.


Motherhood. Not all birthing folks identify as mothers or feminine. That's ok. I don't subscribe to gender binary myself; but when it comes to being a Mother, I feel most aligned with lunar, feminine energy.


Not soft. Not passive. Feminine... as in power of the tides, holds the Earth in gravitational balance, lights up the dark feminine. This is the energy of femininity that I hold dearly... and it's nothing to do with gender.


Questioning the binary doesn't intimidate me, nor my womanhood. Recently, someone I follow online asked if I had ever inquired into my own pronouns; or simply subscribed to those given to me. The question irked me, alerting me to some energy stored around this topic. Turns out, I'm comfortable with she/her... and they.


Being two spirited comes with big responsibility. It's not a term we take lightly, and perhaps, this is why I ran from it for so long. In Chikashanompa, the language of my Chickasaw Relatives, I am hatukholba. Traditionally, we are medicine keepers and mediators; social workers and match makers. I can see these reflections in my life's work and passion; yet seek predominately to currently administer them in my role as Mother.


Ah, Mother... the thing at which I've been grasping since beginning this blog... this website. This yogic journey (and well before). Being a 2Spirited, Queer Mother comes with its own medicine... often times bitter, and usually found in common, though unexpected places.


My mother has yet to embrace her own medicine. For, you see, to truly embrace our Medicine, we must acknowledge and begin to heal the entanglements of trauma (which, ironically, can be medicine). Her wounds became mine, and she disowned me for my Truth. She doesn't follow the Good Ways of our people. She's chosen to embrace the colonizer's idea of salvation and a white washed savior.


In Mothering my child, I'm forced to seek gentle solutions and ways of being so he has Good Medicine from me. The world will give him enough bitters; I seek to stock him well with the sweet. The medicine I give him is nourishment to my own inner child; the one who calls for her mother in the dark. The one for who mother never responded. Seeking to be a kind and compassionate mother clears avenues for this inner child, showing her what she also deserved: respect, safety, consent, and so much love.


Motherhood is the greatest gift Creator could give me. I'm fortunate to have this relationship with my child, and I know that parenting can be challenging and even overwhelming. For me, the overwhelm hasn't come from my child, but from a lack of community... and it's a lack for which I assume responsibility. I keep my Medicine hidden for fear of it being rejected, ridiculed, used and abused. I owe it to myself, my family, my ancestors, and my community to share this Medicine in a Good Way.


Huh. This blog was initially going to be purely about motherhood. I do so enjoy when they take on a life of their own. This is the Medicine. This is the Way ;-)



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