I Am A Wild Woman

On August 3, 2021August 14, 2021 By fawncaveneyIn Uncategorized3 Comments

I am not your conquest,
I am your desire.
I am not your need,
I am your truth.
I am not separate from you,
I am you.
I am not a tamed lion,
I am a wild woman.
I am not yours to possess,
I am here to open love.
Only when you stop thinking, will you see me.
Only when you let go, will you feel me.
Only when you listen, will you hear my beckoning desires.
Do not come to me with your need and want contrived by society.
Do not come to me wishing to penetrate in self disguise.
Do not come to me wishing to possess or play games.
I am like the air, I cannot be contained, held or captured…
However, I will gladly stay, I will blossom beyond your wildest dreams if you…
…touch me as though you are blind.
…taste me as though you have no thirst.
…listen as though you are deaf.
For as you unify with the mysterious wild woman, all falls away to expose the truth….
I am here….
Where are you…?
~ Fawn Caveney 7/21

*Freedom stirs from within, it swirls and twirls, unleashing the ever present wild child…*

I recently returned from a trip that expanded my present transformational journey, for when one sets upon a quest with an open heart, soul and mind, the swirling encounters awaken vast insights.

As a foreigner in a distant country I was titillated by the power of being anonymous, lost in a sea of chaos that I did not need to understand. I was free to be me. Wandering the streets, beaches, historical sites, and delectable restaurants I allowed myself to feel, taste, explore and be seen. Vulnerable yet unafraid, adrift with no expectation, attachment or preconceived desire, I was a wild woman dancing in curiosity and flowing openness.

*To flow in the presence of the now moment, opens up vast portals for transformative awakening…*

Upon arriving back on the shores of my homeland, I found myself surprised by what percolated forth from the experience. A reoccurring awareness, an old friend, a circling back to my youthful knowing. As a woman growing up one is silently taught to behave a certain way, only want specific things, and definitely do not express yourself as a “wild woman.”

In a patriarchal world I was taught to hide my sensuality, present my authenticity in respectable ways and squelch my wild untamed nature. I have never been good at this. More to the point, I do not wish to be good at it. Thankfully I grew up surrounded by nature, held and nurtured by the true wild and free. This planted in me a knowing, one that has thankfully nudged me in moments when I have forgotten the true power of my feminine energy.

*To sit upon the earth connects the breath to that which is, freeing the soul to dance upon the wind…*

During my adventure abroad I was approached by various men. My immediate reaction was caution with a twinge of skepticism. However, as my wise female traveling friend can tell you, I ooze with positivity and openness, so…. I allowed the court-ish play and absorbed the attention. Meandering down the streets of their outspoken desires, I knew I was at choice. As I present this I can feel the paradoxical reactions, they race in like flies to rotten meat. I danced along the tight rope of my own desire to be seen and wanted, while staying vigilant to the wise woman’s voice from within.

I reflect back with a smile, grateful to have met unique masculine souls along the way. They were juxtaposed into the trips original purpose, “Soul Sisters” coming together for a female vacation of play. Ahhhh, I love the intensity of life’s perfect timing and coquettish frolic. The dynamic women I was gifted to explore with came in diverse ages, backgrounds and life experiences. Intensifying this profound mixture of masculine/feminine energy was the most powerful source of all – nature.

*To remember, all we need to do is submerge ourself below our own personal facade…*

Feeling my body glide into the Mediterranean and silky reed filled lake, called forth that Wild Woman. Listening to the cacophony of cicadas, who’s mating song was held in the moist sultry air only heightened the awareness. Sublime ecstasy. Gentle breezes and delicious wind bursts, generated their own wistfulness. I found myself completely swept off my feet. Innocently graced to live each moment in complete presence, no yesterday, no tomorrow, just the vibrancy of now.

As I massaged the intricate aspects together I marveled at the voluptuous experience. Once again I was reminded of the profound Wild Woman Soul. I wish for every woman to tap into this instinctual infinite source; to invite, welcome and rebirth into her true feminine power.

What does this mean? It means you get to live vibrantly alive, sharing and expressing your authentic self. It means you get to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ without apology. It means you get to unabashedly express your desires and passions. It means you get to blossom and reveal as you feel called, free of all expectation, attachment, judgment and labels. It means you dance wild and free….

*No building, no bars, no walls can contain the wild spirit of the feminine….or the masculine…*

Over and over again in my life I have found myself saddened by the loss of the Wild Woman. I see it and feel it in the eyes of the women I meet, yet, they hold it back, they force it to stay confined in the cages built by a society intimidated by its powerful force.

Within every woman there lives a powerful force, filled with good instincts, passionate creativity, & ageless knowing. She is the Wild Woman, who represents the instinctual nature of women. But she is an endangered species.
— Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Author of Women Who Run With the Wolves

My second night back in the states, I was jolted awake by my muse, who shared very clearly what is to come next for me. I chuckle, for again, I pick up the torch, called by my soul to invite women to join me in Awakening their Wild Woman. In the past I have had the privilege and honor to work with women in various circles, helping them to remember how magnanomous they truly are. My recent life choices and exploratory adventures bring me back home to my calling and purpose – I am here to hold up a mirror, so you may see the Wild Woman that awaits your permission to fly free.

Wild women do

And they don’t regret it

Wild women show

What they’re goin’ through

Wild women do

What you think they’ll never

What you only dream about

Wild women do.

— Natalie Cole, Wild Women Do lyrics

If you are ready to say YES to your Wild Woman join me at The BEingness School

Nurturing My Muse…

On September 6, 2020 By fawncaveneyIn Uncategorized2 Comments

My 9 to 5 job that presently keeps me fed and cared for is an intense social job. Between colleagues and clients there is no true introvert quiet. While I may not be perceived as an introvert, I truly am, through and through. I fill up my cup and come back to life when I get to be by myself. The only company I seek or wish to nurture is my muse. He is always welcome, for he awakens and fulfills my innermost desires.

**This mornings RAW musings. To read in full click here….**

Yesterday after a full week of juggling my day job with my love and passion to come to the page, I was tapped. My muse and soul pleaded for quiet. They literally screamed for pure divine solitude. So, I listened, nurturing the muse, soothing the soul and gifting the body and mind with freedom to rest while wondering into philosophical caverns.

*Filling up my muse’s cup, I explored and wandered with other writers, who like me ached for solitude…*

Today I arise. My muse is such grand company. Stirring within me such pleasure, passion, joy and excitement for life’s grand adventure. Oh how I love to play with my muse, he puts the sparkle into life, inspires me to yield, let go and unabashedly play.

Thanks to my muse I do not give up. I step forth with pure trust that he shall guide me home to the writer’s life, to freedom, to a time when he and I get to play all day if we so choose. No time clocks, no outside work, just he and I co-creating with wild abandon.

I feel strongly that we all have a muse, a calling, a beckoning to come home. Delightfully, our muse’s are unique, diversified as we are. When we nurture our muse, hear them, let them take over and fill us up, the sensation is like no other. Infinite joy, wild passion, soft exploration, sweet discovery… There truly are no words to describe such union.

*Freedom lies within our surrender, it awaits release, invitation, presence…*

I have also discovered that my muse is not just one dimensional. I feel him weave with me whenever I allow myself to be completely present and enraptured with life. Fully allowing myself to feel, taste, touch, hear and smell the limitless sensations of life’s emotional treasure box.

Once one has drank the rich syrup from the cup offered by their muse, there is no turning back, the taste lingers, it haunts you, whispering an invitation to come home. Oh, once you dance unabashedly with your muse, their is no other partner who can enrapture you so… His bite has infested you, there is no cure. Nor, will you wish for a cure.

When we live each day married to our muse we are like a beacon in the dark, seen by others as we learn to see. I cannot imagine life without my muse. To shackle him is to stop my breath. To imprison him, is to clench my heart into stillness.

Why have we been taught to tame our muse, gag him, place him in bondage behind the walls of societal etiquette and expectation? Set him free, release the bonds, remove the gag ~ for only then are you free….

Do not fear my dear muse, I shall always nurture you. In me, you are home. In you, I am alive and home. As we dance together the world awakens with wonder. I hope that more dancers shall join us, filling the galaxy with impassioned, vibrant beings who are enraptured with life’s grand adventure.

I am curious, how do you and your muse express?
Share with the world?
Do you nurture and invite the well being of your muse?
Or turn them away, fearful of their intensity and passion?

Click on the image below to enjoy how my muse and I play with a fictional journey into “What if” ~ Travel with the characters as they reunite with their muse, awakening a passionate life…

Visions of a Younger Self…

On March 28, 2020 By fawncaveneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

I sat straight up in the small wooden chair. It reminded me an old childhood school chair. The room was empty, could I actually call it a room, for there were no walls and it went on forever. The space was just vast endless blue gray light. Only me and my chair. “Where was I? Why was I here? How do I escape?” I felt weighted down in the chair, my legs unresponsive to my minds tingling panic. I encouraged myself to calm down, to breathe, to trust and let go of fear.

Like a gigantic movie screen the space in front of me lit up with a life sized scene. It was me. Dressed in my favorite blue and red jeans with flowing light blue blouse speckled with daisies. My hair was blowing in every direction, encircling my young face and my feet as always were dirty with no shoes. The six year old me stepped closer, I was transfixed by her gaze and unable to look away.

She stopped in front of me, reaching out her small little hands to stroke my cheek. Our eyes stayed locked together, a mirror of soft sky blue. In her eyes I saw such deep love, compassion, and spirited joy. They begged me to relax, to let go, to trust and be present. I felt the emotions welling up in me, a tear slid down my face as I leaned into her tiny hand, so warm, soft and gentle. The fear slid out of my body, disappearing like mist in the infinite space.

“My dear Fawn, do you remember?” she asked. Her young voice broke the still silence. Her gentle caress continued to wipe the moist tears from my face. My eyes answered her question with confusion. “What was I to remember? Had I made a promise I forgot? Then it struck me, was I dead? Had I left my physical body and now was stuck in this random space with my young self.” Her vague question had jolted my mind into high drive, which started the generator of fear again.

“Shhhhh…, it’s okay”,she soothed, continuing to touch my forehead and gray hair. I took a deep breath and relaxed back into her presence. I tried to move my lips, but they seemed paralyzed as I processed this experience. “Do you remember the dreams we used to have, the adventures we were going to go on, the books we were going to write, the places we were going to see and photograph?” a giggle filled her body as she asked the questions. Before I could answer she placed her tiny finger on my lips to stop me, softly cooing, “Watch with me“. The space lit up with a panoramic scene, the young me running barefoot down my favorite path towards our small little house tucked in the woods.

I was singing as I bounced along the trail. I looked so healthy and vibrantly alive. Free and wild in my mind, heart and soul. I completely believed that anything was possible, I could go where ever I wanted, do what I dreamed and see all the places I could imagine. The world was the frontier, full of adventures, people and new experiences.

Everything froze, washing the image away. Then suddenly there I was again, this time in my late teens. I sat under my thinking tree, a magnificent red pine that stoically held me perched above the gurgling river below. A smile crossed my face as I remembered. Warm salty tears kissed the edges of my eyes, tears of gratitude, love, joy, sadness, loss, and regret. The weight of her small hand on my shoulder kept me present, despite the urge to slip into the quiet space of a time gone by.

“Go there” she pleaded . “Feel into what we were thinking, dreaming, feeling, wanting. Remember”, her words drifted off.

I felt myself remembering, my spirited body became filled with a blend of loss, desire and ignited hope. The sobs escaped through smiling lips and undecipherable laughter. The dreams of yesterday, of the little girl and young woman permeated my very essence. In my minds eye and hearts page, I saw the books I dreamed to write, I witnessed the exploration of new places, the connection with people around the globe, learning, sharing, bridging humanity with humanity and humanity with nature.

A gasp rose up and escaped my emotionally racked body. Like a bursting comet it hit me, “I still dreamed to connect humanity, to awaken people to their unique magnificence, to bring them home to their inner state of being, awakening them to their heart and souls desires.”

It all flushed through me, the remembered awareness that nature connected us, healed and reminded us of our true inner essence.

Bridge building, that’s what I felt called to share. The bridge between human and nature, the bridge between the inner self and outer being, the bridge between all humanity, exposing our similarities no matter our walk of life or place of existence.

I looked up into the innocent wise face of my younger self, she smiled, running her velvety hand down my cheek. She leaned in, kissed my forehead and disappeared. I sat frozen, uncertain what to feel or do. My being was digesting, absorbing the intense experience. In my ear I heard her softly whisper, “Thank you for remembering, take gentle care of you and I will see you again soon.”

I sat there mesmerized by my own vibrant memories. Rekindling the wild child, the wild woman in me. Closing my eyes, I took in a tender quiet breath. As I released the cleansing air from my lungs, I blinked my tired eyes to life, uncertain in the moment what was “real” or a “dream”. I laid there, feeling into the gift from my younger self.

To be continued…

Until then, what if –

You sat in an empty room with your younger self, viewing the cinema of your youth, what would you witness, learn, remember?
What would your younger self show you, tell you, share with you?
What dreams did you have?
What adventures did you wish for?
What did you love to do?