Tuesday, March 8, 2011

On Radha

We strolled along an overcast Sunday shore, laughing in feminine giddiness at the sheer ridiculousness of this life.  Suzie spoke of a friend's tale of becoming recently engaged to the exotic Spaniard that she had just moved onto a small island with.
"She realized that if she wanted to meet her Krishna, she had to become Radha," Suzie shared.
I paused in a moment of reflection.

"So, how does one become Radha?" I inquired.
"Well, for starters, you can't dress like that!" Suzie chastised.
 Ouch.
 It was true, though - as I had, just minutes earlier, joked about how the three of us together looked like a group of "Bohemian Hobos."
(What else would you expect to find in Encinitas? ; )

"And, you can definitely not wear those shoes!" Suzie stated emphatically, as an afterthought.
"Really?" I innocently looked down at my black and white checkered Vans. 
"You mean, it still doesn't matter how a person moves through this world?
You mean, even in a "spiritual" end, it still boils down to how a female presents her beauty?"
Double Ouch.

It's not that I am intentionally trying to hide or mask my beauty.
Yes, I enjoy wearing the heels and the dresses as well as the other obvious markers of my
femininity - of my separateness from that which is male, of my otherness from that which is you.
Yes, and...
I also enjoy just Be-ing.
Because with what and how I choose to cover and decorate my body can be both sacred and profane; reverence and irrelevant; and it can also simply be a forced mandate.

Radha and Krishna are not separate.
They are one and the same - they cannot exist without each other.
The Divine Feminine Within knows when to attract, receive and give birth using all of her creative wiles, just as the Divine Masculine Within knows when to purposefully act with swift, pin-pointed focus.
A Divine ever-unfolding dance - over and over again, they tumble.
Inside, first.
Then, without.
In, out, in out, out in -
humananimals copulating.
Like our hearts, these lungs, the breath, the beat, One collective pulse.
A cosmic shift of the Universe itself.