Elephantjournal.com posted an article titled, "Loving a Fearless Sensitive Warrior" it's heading picture featured a handsome man, crouched down like a tiger, ready to pounce.
(Link posted below.)
To be honest, I was skeptical. However this was actually a well written article, seriously, I enjoyed every paragraph.
The topic they covered should be discussed AND embraced. Society has an unrealistic interpretation of the divine masculine in connection to gender roles, the stigma placed on the brave few who wander outside of the designated comfort box feels heavy, and who wants to carry a bullseye strapped to their back?
Like a lone tortoise on a beach of seagulls.
Of course it didn't take long for my brain to sit and ponder this spiritual warrior's counterpart?
The other half to this fearless warrior, (assuming this particular warrior is heterosexual) where's his lady, what's she like? If he's so awe inspiring, what kind of heart captures this spirit stud?
I tried playing with strong feminine titles, ones accentuating a woman's sexuality, intellect, and determination. As I researched strong woman titles, each one had a negative connotation attached. Then my favorite song came blasting out of a passing car. Buck cherry just delivered my title.
It feels like the sensitive warrior gets a positive spin, but the same can't be said for a woman in touch with her spiritual side, apart from the crowd, falling in love with herself for once.
She gets the charming name crazy bitch.
At first it eats at her, she fights it, and then she does something totally different, she absorbs it. That's the only name they could come up with?
The woman who isn't afraid to stand for truth or those she loves. For a soul who accepts all the beauty life has to offer, while simultaneously embracing the reality that we may only perceive fractions of what's truly out there, in a way some find contrary, well fuck it.
Crazy bitch me.
When she hides alone in the women's room at work to meditate, crazy.
When she relishes in delightful conversation with a homeless man yet rejects the admiration of a well dressed asshole, bitch.
When she parks her car on the side of a desolate freeway to breath in the full moon, and they ask where she's been. She doesn't lie. And she's crazy.
It's not glamorous, but it's definitely a life worth living.
So how does one love a crazy bitch?
The same way you love the ocean.
She'll come in waves, emotions run deep. Her soul comes crashing in, powerful and alarming. At first you may stumble and fall, caught off guard by the power her love possesses, but if you fall back and observe from the shoreline you'll never adjust to her temperament. Eventually you'll grow weary from running.
You must dive deep. Run to her. Jump in.
Appreciate the energy she generates, the fluidity in her movement, the way she loves the moon. Don't try to change what comes so natural, marvel at her flaws. For they're raw and amorous. Admire a dangerous beauty, and never forget the men who underestimated her, the men she swallowed whole.
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