I like rules. I pretend I don’t. I know (as a rule) it’s not cool to like rules, so I pretend I find them irritating and unnecessary. I’m not just talking about rules and laws, but social norms, constructs of faith, personal agreements, world records and casual suggestions. Rules come in so many different packages. But what they share is that they make things predictable, understandable, and structured. They make things safe.
A few months ago, Erin spoke to a group I was in about divine feminine and divine masculine. She gave a list of traits to explain each type of energy (feminine: nurturing, sensual, sexual, being; masculine: accomplishing, structure, doing) and my mind heard a list of rules. I felt like I understood the concept, but was frustrated because I wasn’t naturally any of the traits listed for divine masculine. Then Erin did something that irritated me for months. She used one of the feminine descriptors in an example of an expression of divine masculine. I was pissed. (Secretly, because there’s a social rule against calling a teacher out.) Did she not understand how rules work? How was I supposed to apply this concept to my life with ambiguous guidelines?
She also described how her partner sometimes holds divine masculine for her so she can more fully be in divine feminine. She described him as acting as a water bottler that she could flow within. THAT made sense to me. That’s exactly what I was looking for. I needed my partner to provide more divine masculine. I needed my job to provide more divine masculine. I needed water bottles.
I won’t take you on the winding journey I went on for the next four months, but it ended, as every Lifetime movie or young adult novel would have predicted, with me realizing I need to be my own water bottle. I would be embarrassed that it took me 30 years to figure that out, but reflecting back I can see that I grew up in a home where both my parents had strong expressions of divine masculine and they held divine masculine energy for me through firm expectations around academics, behavior, and performance. The faith I grew up in held divine masculine for me with rigid beliefs around spirituality and morality. The school I attended until high school reinforced the expectations from my home and my faith. I had a wonderful, joyful, playful, safe childhood, in which I could flow to my heart’s content. But I never learned how to be a water bottle. My divine masculine developed more like a…. water balloon.
It holds water in and has some sort of shape, but when you put it inside anything with more structure, it will immediately adapt its shape to fit. It’s also pretty scary to be a water balloon with no container - any accidental fall or the tiniest needle can turn you into a puddle. That’s why I like rules so much - they create containers, they hold divine masculine, they keep me safe.
As I’m practicing holding my own divine masculine energy, a surprising first step has been looking at my divine feminine traits, that feel so natural, yet I haven’t been able to express. For me, their expression required the divine masculine. It’s writing something with my creativity.
It’s projecting my sensuality outward. It’s holding someone I love accountable. It’s initiating the sexual experience I want. It’s the doing. And it’s not separate from, but beautifully intertwined with, the being.