Sacred Feminine

June 25, 2018 By HallieZ 1 Comment

Dear Son, A Gift You Could Miss

Dear Son,

You were at your daddy’s all week, and I missed you SO MUCH!

You’re little still, and this won’t be for you to read for some time, but it was pounding in my heart today, and I thought I would write it down for you, and maybe you won’t ever need to read it, because it will be in our every day and it will be who you are… but still. Here I am, son-of-my-heart. All the love in the world for you, and, you know your mama, SO MANY WORDS!!!

Last night I went to a comedy show with some friends, downtown, and it went late. I never find myself walking through the nightlife of Salem Oregon past 10pm! But there I was.

Headed toward my car, I was. Minding my own business, skirt swishing, heels tapping, when a car full of men drove by.

(I know, gross, I’m your mom, but still… its my story, dude)

“Girl! HOT DAMN, YOU GOT AN ASS”

and then the things you can imagine that followed that.

Mama don’t mess. As you know. No, I didn’t flip them (because, I save my energy for shit that matters) and I didn’t feel ashamed (because, well, we all know I DO have an ass on me)

It took me a couple days to figure out what was simmering in my soul, after that night.

You’ve heard a lot of it, son.

“ treat women with respect, that’s someone’s wife/mom/sister/daughter”.

Its all true and good, my boy.

But here’s what my mama heart is saying.

When you treat women like that?

YOU ARE THE ONE LOSING

When you drive by, and all you see is an ass?

You miss the power in her soul.

When you declare over a woman a thing?

You miss her truth and you get stuck in your perception.

Every woman, all over the world, is holding a gift inside her heart, a gift more beautiful than you can probably even imagine.

Son.

It might be her friendship, steady and true.

It might be her voice, powerful in tenderness.

Her gift might be her body, wrapping you in comfort.

It might be the heat of her passion, shaking you to your core.

Her gift might be a truth, typed out on a paper, or etched in stone.

And son, you may hold a gift for her.

You can show up,

you can stand still,

you can drive by,

you can SEE.

You can look past that ass. And find her.

And my son.

It could break your heart, and it may break hers,

and son,

It will make you a real man.

Always, your mama

June 20, 2018 By HallieZ 5 Comments

Father’s Day, huh?

So. It was Father’s day a few days ago.

I did what I have always done, helped my kids prep and wrap their gifts for their daddy.

I sent him a text message that said Happy Father’s Day, hope you all have a good day.

I cried, because this isn’t how I ever thought our Father’s Days would be.

Once I got my heart through all that sorrow/mess, it was time to think about MY father.

That sucked even worse. So I cried more.

My father sent me an email when I filed for divorce that said I wasn’t allowed at his home on special events or holidays.

I mean. I did stop by on mother’s day and give my mom flowers, I told myself, so maybe I OUGHT to stop by on Father’s day anyway. And give him, uh. I don’t know. Like. Jerky or something?

But I didn’t WANT to do anything. I didn’t want to call him. Or drop of jerky. Or anything.

Not just because he said I couldn’t, but because he broke my heart.

I had scheduled cleaning job that day, to help keep me busy, and I cried as I ran the vacuum, and raged as I scrubbed the toilet. I had flashbacks, all day, of things that had happened that were not ok.

I remembered conversations and I remembered the agony of finally realizing my dad was only going to empower and embolden my abuser, not protect me.

I asked the Spirit what the gift was.

I asked the Spirit what was being asked of me.

– HOLD THE PAIN WITH THE BEAUTY –

Pain with the beauty?

What the hell.

There is only pain.

Images started coming to mind.

Reveling, the first born.

The love, the bond.

How well I remember holding my first daughter for the first time.

Small. Warm.

Nothing I wouldn’t do for you, my daughter.

A diaper change.

A first bike ride.

All this and more, a world awaiting.

So thank you, Papa, for the gift of attachment.

Thank you for holding me against your skin and letting me know your scent.

Thank you for carrying me on your body.

Thank you for changing my diaper.

For letting me feel the grass against my skin.

Thank you for letting me explore the world and know the feeling of dirt.

Thank you for letting me witness the birth of my siblings.

Bringing me into a place of connection with them.

Thank you for telling me stories of the natural world.

A teacher by destiny.

Thank you for being gentle with animals.

For teaching me to hold the plants with respect.

Those first 5 years cemented a character that I give thanks for. Every. Single. Day.

I don’t know how to hold the beauty and the pain in the same place and not explode.

But I am trying.

It’s right here, beating in my chest.

April 15, 2018 By HallieZ 2 Comments

#Proverbs31IRL

A virtuous woman, who can find? She is far more precious than minimum wage.

She is worth $25 an hour (according to the judge, but her paycheck has yet to be informed).

The heart of her multitudinous children (who ARE a blessing from the Lord, dammit!) trust her, and will have no luck convincing her to buy them an iPad.

She does them good, and does not yell at them, all the days of her life

(well at least, like, 95% of the time, you know, when she remembers her meds).

She is like the ship of merchants, and overstocks her barns with food from Costco.

She rises while it is yet night and drives her children to school while simultaneously weaving, patching hand-me-downs and doing her magical work-from-home minimum wage job..

She considers buying a field, but realizes that her food stamps probably won’t transfer to real estate.

She perceives her merchandise is profitable, and puts it on her to-do list to start an Etsy shop in 2025 when she’s done doing the laundry.

She dyes her hair with pink, and is clothed with strength and dignity, and she sure as hell ain’t got time for stilettos.

Her lamp goes out at night, but there are charities who get her electricity back on.

SHE is not afraid of snow, but unfortunately her school district is, so FUGGETABOUTIT! You can sleep when you’re dead!

She looks well in her house in her track pants and her badass tiara, and does not eat the gluten of fatness (unless she just REALLY deserves a doughnut).

She opens her mouth and drops truth bombs like it’s nobody’s business, and she smashes ALL THE PATRIARCHY!

She laughs at the time to come… because she knows she’s gonna prove wrong everyone who told her she wasn’t enough.

She was taught she needed a husband to define her, but the voice of Wisdom was a woman crying out in the streets, and she chose to let Wisdom’s voice define her instead.

Her children rise up and call her blessed, and her Father in heaven EXPLODES with pride, praising her:

“Many women have done excellently, but YOU surpass them all.”

Charm is deceitful, and financial stability is over-rated, but but the virtuous woman who loves the Lord kicks ass.

Give her her child support, and let all the people stand in awe of her amazon strength.

By Deanna Fraser & Hallie Ziebart

I have had enough. Enough beating women over the head with this fictional woman. Enough telling us there’s only one way for us to be awesome. Enough skipping over Jael and Abigail and Deborah and… Enough making the single mamas feel like second class nothing. Enough.

Can you share your IN REAL LIFE Proverbs 31 moments with me?

#Proverbs31IRL

Or link up a blog or story in the comments!

Or tag a friend and brag on them!

I was ranting to my pal Deanna about this the other day, and she wrote this version of Proverbs 31 for me. It is with her kind permission I share. And say… go check out her album. Deanna was a lifeline for me when we both lived in China. And both made it out alive. Broken, but alive!!!

AND… Some links to some stuff that might help you out if hearing Proverbs 31 talked about like this makes you want to rip me apart. Or, if just hearing the phrase made you throw up in your mouth a little bit.

Things you might not know about Proverbs31

A Smart Dude on Wisdom

March 17, 2018 By HallieZ 2 Comments

Yes, I Changed

I look out the window at my desk.

It is a view to die for.

I listen to this song.

The words beat in my heart, I dive into the wonder of Creation outside my window.

So many times, he said to me:

You’re the one who changed. I am the same. You weren’t supposed to change.

That wasn’t the deal.

Out my window, the trees look like they are clapping their hands. The winds are high.

I see the sheen of the buds, just under the skin of the trees.

They are about to break out. It’s going to happen overnight. I can tell.

Everything is rising.

Everything is being called up.

What can the buds do, but answer, and bloom?

I feel the weight and power of the river.

It cannot be stopped.

The current is strong and it remains.

Where would it go, but to the ocean?

Sometimes faster.

Sometimes slower.

Everything rising.

The Canada geese alight.

They fight.

Water splashing, the geese are rising.

They are being called upward and outward.

Where would they go, if not north?

Yes.

I changed.

I mean, I didn’t, and I did.

I had taken it for granted.

Daughter of the land, child of the seasons.

I thought that was what we all did.

I thought that was what we would do together.

The call to my soul was everything rising.

It was buds that could do nothing but bloom.

A current that could only go faster.

It was a bird in flight, who could not be caged.

I changed.

A girl became a woman.

A woman grew children.

A body stretched and rebuilt.

A heart wept and was healed.

Things were seen that could never be unseen.

And yes, I changed.

I changed.

Watching the trees clap their hands wasn’t enough anymore.

I had to clap with them.

Feeling the ocean dance around my bound body made my heart scream.

I had to break the ropes and dance in the ocean.

Where could the seed go, but toward the sun?

Where could the heart bend, but toward love?

I struggle to let go of what was, and what wasn’t.

There was only one way for me to grow.

That was toward LOVE.

Upward.

Outward.

Blooming.

Alive.

Moving.

Changing.

YES,

I Changed

February 26, 2018 By HallieZ Leave a Comment

Diamonds

I am walking out of the grocery store.

Yesterday, my friend told me to ask the Divine One to heal, to bring hope and freedom to the sexually traumatized parts of my mind and body. She told me to ask for specific moments of healing, and that she KNEW they would come to me if I asked.

After more than a year without flashbacks, an event had come out of nowhere this week, and started the vivid images and memories playing like a tape on repeat.

“what do I do?”

I ask, and it is a sigh, a sob, and a prayer.

The tapes play on silent, but the subtitles read:

Replaceable

PROPERTY

Old news

NO CHOICE

Saggy

WORTHLESS

THEN

I hear it like a soft whisper.

“loosen your waist”

“open your hips, let them swing the way they were meant to”

I imagine my skeleton, the way my bones move and glide together, the gait of a human being, in slow motion.

I breath deeply.

I drop my waist. I open my hips. They sway and swing.

I lift my eyes, instinctually, and a smile spreads across my face.

The girl scout cookie mama catches my eye, and we grin at each other, I suspect we are in on the wonder of it together.

These words pulse in my heart and up into my throat.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

And just like that, another wave of healing has broken over this weary soul.

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

What I’m Writing