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God is a Shiny Unicorn Mug

Updated: Mar 18, 2021

It was the iridescent, pink glaze that caught my eye, followed by the shiny, gold horn perched between what were decidedly cat-ears on the rim. My friend's tea mug instantly filled me with a sense of Joy, but more, the recognition that this ridiculously cute cup completely and perfectly fit her beautiful, ethereal, demure persona. I needed that mug in my life.

I don't think I've ever been a girly-girl, feeling instead as if I'm a strange amalgam of powerful, get-it-done, sensual woman-ness, and capable, independent dude-ness through which I take pride in mudding drywall, utilizing decisive, steely logic when needed, and which provides a practical lack of squeamishness that had me considering surgery as a profession. Because I've never really been drawn to what I consider that pink "Fluffiness" of being girly, it feels as if I've been carrying around more masculine energy than most females I know. For a good part of my life, especially in this waning Age of Man, I've even felt that was an advantage.

Over the last couple years however, I've noticed that the things that catch my eyes, ears, and heart are....

s p a r k l e s -- those decidedly "feminine" things that have always lived in the periphery of my experience. When I first realized what was happening, I had no problem blaming the curiosity on my daughters. They're now adults, and though it's been more than a decade since we wandered the girls' departments in stores looking for shiny, iridescent clothing and accessories to dress them in, I readily pinned my continued perusal on that habit. Easy as it was, it didn't seem to explain, however, my subtle disappointment that the cool, glittery items weren't available in my size... and, it didn't stop with window shopping. I've since found myself with a glittery gold pencil bag and notebook, a luxe rainbow blanket for the lounge chair, and furry, ridiculous, Mermaid-Llama socks that cuddle my feet. Even my haircut has softened over the years.

I started to realize that in collecting these girly-trinkets, I was acknowledging a deep longing to recognize within myself something gentler, more nurturing, and compassionate. It felt like searching for a feeling, a presence, or an energy that accepted and encouraged the emergence of these softer elements of my own feminine nature. This unveiling was quiet and slow and seemed like the haunting by a lovely song; while I was sure I knew the words, I was firmly missing the lilting melody that gave it life and meaning.

Finally seeing this absence felt like frustration, confusion, denial, and almost loss, as I reconciled with the idea that I’d never considered this side of myself, or that I'd been denying it just as long. Even scarier was the idea of looking for, but maybe not finding those foreign, exotic, and exquisite parts within; either shimmery nail polish feels right, or it doesn’t, and what would that mean to me?

Over time, I've come to confidently know that I am on the right path toward meeting my Inner-Fluffiness face to face, and that I can humbly and excitedly do so with welcome and open arms. Most comforting to me is that I know the force behind this urgent beckoning is none other than the gentle and elegant voice of the Divine Feminine Herself--She, the creative and manifesting power of God’s communion and communication with our souls and the soul of all Creation, is calling to ME. I'm called to recognize that power is feminine; logic and passion and ability are feminine qualities, but that they can be balanced by so, so much more. I can see that to evolve for my highest good, and for that of the lives with whom mine is mingled, I need to appreciate, invite, accept, and surrender to these inspirations, and really get to know the parts of myself and my power that I don't. What a glorious and terrifying charge.

Taking part in this new dance is clumsy, intimidating, and awkward, and I often find myself pink with embarrassment by my delight in those things I'd have easily dismissed or shunned before--do I really need glittery gold tennis shoes in an adult size 8 (Ugh…who am I?!)? Trying on flowy floral dresses can feel foreign and ridiculous, like a child playing dress-up, but serves to let me see myself and my life through a softer and more vulnerable set of compassionate eyes. Though this slow expansion seems to come with occasional growing pains, I have the feeling that I'm walking the right way, and now I'll just have especially shiny footwear for the journey.

I will continue to be the girl that uses power tools with aplomb, the one likely to be directing traffic at an accident scene, and the one that gets the giant, hairy spider out of the room, but I recognize that those are just some of my awesome, inherent powers. I'm learning to welcome, explore, and celebrate my elegance, abundance, nurturing, fertility, gentility, and the beautiful surrender to a higher calling--and I will be unconditionally, joyously encouraged by Her with every sip from my own Unicorn mug.

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