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Mother Goddess, hear me rise.
Mother Goddess, hear me rise.
Over and over again, I could hear this powerful message flowing through my body.
I was fully naked.
On a massage table.
In an open-air room at my retreat center in Gokarna Beach, India.
Two massage therapists (angels!) were giving me a synchronized hot oil massage (heaven!).
The oil was a custom blend based on my ayurvedic dosha (I’m vata - pitta).
I had been loved up for an entire week.
Cared for.
Nourished.
Fed.
I napped everyday.
Went to bed early.
Rose early for sunrise yoga.
Sat in sangha with a circle of sisters on the path.
In a land that had been calling me forward for a decade.
India.
And there, on that massage table, I heard a message that was so clear, so solid, so deep, I knew it was meant for me.
And I knew it was meant to be shared by me, with you, right now.
By Jenny Fenig4.8
5050 ratings
Mother Goddess, hear me rise.
Mother Goddess, hear me rise.
Over and over again, I could hear this powerful message flowing through my body.
I was fully naked.
On a massage table.
In an open-air room at my retreat center in Gokarna Beach, India.
Two massage therapists (angels!) were giving me a synchronized hot oil massage (heaven!).
The oil was a custom blend based on my ayurvedic dosha (I’m vata - pitta).
I had been loved up for an entire week.
Cared for.
Nourished.
Fed.
I napped everyday.
Went to bed early.
Rose early for sunrise yoga.
Sat in sangha with a circle of sisters on the path.
In a land that had been calling me forward for a decade.
India.
And there, on that massage table, I heard a message that was so clear, so solid, so deep, I knew it was meant for me.
And I knew it was meant to be shared by me, with you, right now.