There was once a village, the elders say, where the women wrote the destiny of the whole nation with red paths in the soil. A village where the women had the power of knowing, of blessing, of guiding.
The village of the sacred blood, it was called.
Carne was already 15 years old and she did not had her moon blood yet... She dreamed at night, under the full moon, and she would ask the goddess for her blessing... She also wanted to walk the woods in secret gatherings, like the other women did, speaking to the trees and protected by the wolfs. She also wanted the red river down her legs. She also wanted to wear the sacred red dot in the forehead, the kumkum stained feet... She also wanted henna in her hands, tattoos down her spine.
The village was ruled by this blood wisdom but it was not the blood marks that the men were reading, for they were not allowed to look at the sacred blood. It was the flowers... The flowers that grew from the fertilized soil, much brighter, rare and bigger than any others, these flower made designs, and the designs were studied... And the designs spoke of love stories to come, climate changes to take place, children to be born and animals to gather. The designs were visible to all, but only by the next full moon, sometimes only by the next season...
So for now, for now only the red priestess, the women that bleed, knew the secrets. And the secrets would never be shared, not even during the hottest night, not even to the more intense lover or the more respected elder. The secret was always kept.
Carne did not belong to this group. Carne walked often with the boys and slept near the men. She was not allowed to come to the female area. She could play with the young girls of course, she would cook yes, but... No potions, no spells, no braiding was shared with her... Because she was not... Initiated yet.
She felt lost, cursed... Unloved. Only the red priestess wore skirts and Carne had to wear the thick pants of men... Her hair was long, never cut like it was tradition but this was the only mark or her... Goddess power... Her potential hidden inside.
There was a long spiral shaped labyrinth in the middle of the woods, made of trees, each tree was a woman, planted at the time of her birth. Carne's tree was there. Blooming no flowers, giving no fruits. She often visited that place and sat near the flame trees and their bright red flowers, the Apple trees and their tasty fruits, the almond trees and their small perfumed petals... She never sat by her own tree... She was ashamed of the dry trunk, it's naked branches. She was unloving of the small thorns that covered the bark.
One morning Carne walks around wearing nothing else but a pair of male like shorts - so different from the skirts only the priestess can allow - and falls inlove by her own quite unique reflection in the mirror, by her feminine nature, mixed with these boys attire... The shorts and pants keep the connection to the female energy of the earth stagnant, not welcoming its flow... and she always disliked them, for she always felt they were a sign of her powerless being... "Like a boy forever" she often felt. But today she fell inlove with this in between being, with no need to label it's nature or pointing out any flaw.
She saw herself so... Perfect in her uniqueness. She felt so whole and complete that she got aroused by the sight of her pointy nipples and so filled with desire she massages her own feet, holly to all cause they are the ones that mark the grounds; her legs, sacred to all for they get the paintings from the flowing blood with henna like designs; she caresses her thighs, worshiped by all for they support the womb; and loves her yoni and deep sacredness of the mysteries inside. It is not the first time she makes love like this. But it is the first time she rises from love, and does not fall.
Later that night she leaves.
There is no pain and no resentment; no suffering and no doubt, she just leaves.
She walks the woods that night, and performing rituals she did not learn she gets lost in them.
She comes back to her senses when the sun is out and cannot recognize any of the trees around her... There is no cave in sight and the sound of the big waterfall cannot be heard. She is far, she knows. She is days away from the village. How could she got so far and how is it possible now to come back? She sits down in the soil and for the first time she speaks to Mother Earth: "Dear Mother, I am your daughter, allow me to remember what I am here to teach."
She opens her eyes and stands up, she is sure a message is coming but cannot imagine what shape it can possibly take. She opens her eyes and sees it: a red mark, made of blood, stains the ground in front of her.
She smiles, takes her hand to her yoni and gently opens her lips, the moon finger brings the bright red color and she marks her forehead with a small dot. She walks back home, following her own, sacred track.
From now on she will be called "Hibiscus", the one that bloomed.
*Carne is the word for both meat and flesh in Spanish and Portuguese languages.
#myCreationStoryOnSacredBlood
