The Robe

When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.
Like this.
RUMI

Living as a woman in this magnificent physical expression, unique to me, yet universally symbolic of nurturance, sensuality, and sexuality, is made even more mysterious as I grow older and curiously, only now, do I begin to comprehend the nuances.
In the deeper truth, at least for me, I find it no coincidence that breasts are near the heart, the heart being wholly symbolic of love, compassion, and wisdom, relationships. people close to our heart. And that if that heart space is not nourished, the female spiritual symbolism of it, the breasts, will let you know. Our bodies are such brilliant receptors.
There is something of the divine in the design of a woman’s breasts, lest there would not exist masterpieces, poems, and songs, depicting their mystery. They are sacred symbolism.
What if, as women, we owned our magnificence, as is? And what is shown to us when we don’t?
On the metaphysical plane, breast cancer has been described thusly: Belief that how one treats self and others is nurturing, when it is not. Nursing grudges (resentment). Feeling unloved or unlovable. Needing to mother or be mothered. Living with the constant threat of someone’s emotional abuse, feeling responsible for when it happens, and feeling unable to stand up for oneself. Appreciating oneself for saying, “No” to an abuser, yet still wanting the abuser to somehow magically change into a good person. Longing to be loved, accepted and appreciated.
It’s anyone’s guess what any actual and ultimate truth is. I only know that I seek what is true for me and allow others that same freedom. And, at least for me, I feel like a child on this journey, full of wonder. I’m long past my youthful days and only now awakening to things I wish I’d seen many years ago, as a woman. I’ll not beat myself up over reasons why it took so long to see. And this is what I see:
A beautiful woman, worthy of respect. A sensual, sexual woman who accepts her body and nourishes her heart. A woman who owns all parts of her story and the role she played, good and bad, and is unafraid to slowly loosen knot by knot the strings of her robe.