The Art of Healing ~XVI~


If you want to change the world,
love a man. Really love him.

Choose the one whose soul calls to yours clearly who sees you; who is brave enough to be afraid.

Accept his hand
and guide him gently
to your hearts blood
Where he can feel your warmth upon him
and rest there
And burn his heavy load in your fires

Look into his eyes.
Look deep within
and see what lies dormant
or awake
or shy
or expectant there

Look into his eyes
and see there his fathers
and grandfathers
and all the wars and madness their spirits fought
in some distant land,
some distant time.
Look upon their pains
and struggles
and torments
and guilt
without judgment
and let it all go.

Feel into his ancestral burden
and know that what he seeks
is safe refuge in you.

Let him melt in your steady gaze
and know that you need not mirror that rage
because you have a womb,
a sweet, deep gateway
to wash and renew old wounds.

If you want to change the world,
love a man. Really love him.

Sit before him,
in the full majesty of your woman
in the breath of your vulnerability
in the play of your child innocence
in the depths of your death,
flowering invitation,
softly yielding,
allowing his power as a man
to step forward towards you…
and swim in the Earth’s womb,
in silent knowing, together.

And when he retreats…
because he will…
flees in fear to his cave…
gather your grandmothers around you.
Envelope in their wisdoms.
Hear their gentle shusshhhed whispers,
calm your frightened girls’ heart urging you
to be still…
and wait patiently for his return.

Sit and sing by his door,
a song of remembrance,
that he may be soothed,
once more.

If you want to change the world,
love a man. Really love him.

Do not coax out his little boy with
with guiles and wiles
and seduction and trickery,
only to lure him….
to a web of destruction,
to a place of chaos and hatred,
more terrible than any war fought by his brothers.

This is not feminine. This is revenge.
This is the poison of the twisted lines
of the abuse of the ages, the rape of our world.

This gives no power to woman.
It reduces her as she cuts off his balls,
and it kills us all.

And whether his mother
held him or could not
show him the true mother now.
Hold him and guide him
in your grace and your depth,
smoldering in the center of the Earth’s core.

Do not punish him
for his wounds
that you think don’t meet
your needs or criteria.

Cry for him sweet rivers.
Bleed it all back home.

If you want to change the world,
love a man. Really love him.

Love him enough to be naked and free.
Love him enough to open your body and soul
to the cycle of birth and of death.
And thank him for the opportunity
as you dance together through the
raging winds and silent woods.
Be brave enough to be fragile
and let him drink in the soft,
heady petals of your being.

Let him know that
he can hold you,
and stand up and protect you.
Fall back into his arms
and trust him to catch you
even if you’ve been dropped
a thousand times before.
Teach him how to surrender
by surrendering yourself
and merge into the sweet nothing
of this worlds’ heart.

If you want to change the world,
love a man. Really love him.

Encourage him,
feed him,
allow him,
hear him,
hold him,
heal him,
and you, in turn,
will be nourished
and supported
and protected
by strong arms
and clear thoughts
and focused arrows
because he can,
if you let him,
be all that you dream.

If you want to love a man…
love yourself…
love your father…
love your brother…
your son…
your ex-partner…
from the first boy you kissed…
to the last one you wept over…

Give thanks for the gifts…
of your unravelling…
to this meeting…
of the one who stands before you now….
And find in him the seed…
to all that’s new and solar…
a seed that you can feed…
to help direct the planting…
to grow a new world,

~ Lauren Wilce


  1. I absolutely loved this and am trying to “like” it if it ever stops loading all the likes. Thank you for following my blog. On reading this post, I am following yours!! ❣️

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