Embodied Ebene - würdevolles Frausein
~ wave to be - Führung ~
Guten Morgen und schöner Samstag :)
Embodied Ebene ist die tiefste die wir als Menschen haben - Zeit auf dieser Ebene Dinge zu klären und den Raum vorzubereiten, für das was wirklich danach wartet.
Bin ich bereit für den Prozess?
Hm.....hahahahaha, zu spät für diese Frage, bin schon mittendrin.....und die folgenden Worte treffen das zeimlich gut, deshalb habe ich sie geteilt.....
Und jetzt? Würdevolles Frausein in der Führung.....
'Dear Woman,
When you align with divine masculine energy, it feels like rain within you. It comes to cleanse, purify, and wash away the toxins that burden your soul. It washes away your negative emotions, the weight of suppressed pain, and the heaviness of past wounds.
And when the rain stops, you will still feel its wetness—the lingering presence of something profound, something that touched you at your core. This wetness reminds you that you have been cleansed, that something deep within you has been renewed.
That is the beauty of true masculinity. It does not take; it gives. It does not impose; it nurtures. It does not seek to control; it liberates.
A true masculine presence is not a storm that destroys but a rain that nourishes. It does not leave behind destruction but renewal, making space for something new to bloom within you. And even after he has stepped away, you still feel his wetness—the gentle reminder of his presence, the proof that you were held and honored.
Dear woman, when you stand in the presence of divine masculinity, you feel safe. Not because you are weak, but because his energy honors your strength. He does not diminish your light; he amplifies it.
He does not compete with your power...he stands beside it. His essence is not about proving dominance but about offering unwavering support. And as you walk away from him, you still feel his wetness—the evidence of love that did not overpower but embraced, that did not burden but uplifted.
His touch is not one that takes but one that reassures. His words are not ones that manipulate but ones that guide. His love is not one that binds but one that sets free.
And in his presence, you do not shrink—you expand. You become more of who you were always meant to be. Even after he has gone, the wetness lingers—a sensation that reminds you of the depth of his presence, the nourishment he offered to your soul.
This rain does not flood you; it nurtures your roots. It does not drown you; it washes away the dust of past pain. It does not demand change; it creates the space for transformation to happen naturally.
And as you absorb this sacred presence, you find yourself blooming effortlessly, just as the earth blooms after the rain. And even as the rain stops, the wetness stays—a quiet whisper of the love that touched you deeply.
But just as rain does not fall every day, neither does divine masculinity demand constant presence. He understands the rhythm of nature, the necessity of balance, the ebb and flow of energy.
He knows when to stand beside you and when to give you space to dance in your own light. And yet, even in his absence, you will feel his wetness—the traces of care and devotion that do not simply vanish with time.
Dear woman, if you have never felt this rain, do not settle for the desert. If you have only known storms, do not mistake destruction for strength. If you have only known drought, do not believe that love must always be scarce. Divine masculinity exists, and when you align with it, you will know. Not because it shouts its presence, but because it feels like home. And when it leaves, its wetness remains—a memory of something real, something that never needed force to make itself known.
And when you meet a man who carries this energy, you will not have to chase him. His presence alone will speak louder than any words. His actions will echo the truth of his essence.
And most of all, his love will not leave you parched but will nourish you, just as rain nourishes the earth. And even as he steps away, his wetness will remain—a sensation that lingers on your skin, reminding you of the love that left you fuller, not emptier.
So, dear woman, open your heart but do not lower your standards. Welcome the rain, but do not beg for it from clouds that only bring storms. Wait for the presence that feels like home, that heals without harming, that loves without caging. Because even when it passes, its wetness will remain—a sacred touch, a quiet proof that you were loved, held, and honored.
Because when you finally align with the rain of true masculinity, you will understand—you were never meant to wither. You were always meant to bloom. And even in your blooming, you will feel the wetness of the rain that made it possible.'
When you align with divine masculine energy, it feels like rain within you. It comes to cleanse, purify, and wash away the toxins that burden your soul. It washes away your negative emotions, the weight of suppressed pain, and the heaviness of past wounds.
And when the rain stops, you will still feel its wetness—the lingering presence of something profound, something that touched you at your core. This wetness reminds you that you have been cleansed, that something deep within you has been renewed.
That is the beauty of true masculinity. It does not take; it gives. It does not impose; it nurtures. It does not seek to control; it liberates.
A true masculine presence is not a storm that destroys but a rain that nourishes. It does not leave behind destruction but renewal, making space for something new to bloom within you. And even after he has stepped away, you still feel his wetness—the gentle reminder of his presence, the proof that you were held and honored.
Dear woman, when you stand in the presence of divine masculinity, you feel safe. Not because you are weak, but because his energy honors your strength. He does not diminish your light; he amplifies it.
He does not compete with your power...he stands beside it. His essence is not about proving dominance but about offering unwavering support. And as you walk away from him, you still feel his wetness—the evidence of love that did not overpower but embraced, that did not burden but uplifted.
His touch is not one that takes but one that reassures. His words are not ones that manipulate but ones that guide. His love is not one that binds but one that sets free.
And in his presence, you do not shrink—you expand. You become more of who you were always meant to be. Even after he has gone, the wetness lingers—a sensation that reminds you of the depth of his presence, the nourishment he offered to your soul.
This rain does not flood you; it nurtures your roots. It does not drown you; it washes away the dust of past pain. It does not demand change; it creates the space for transformation to happen naturally.
And as you absorb this sacred presence, you find yourself blooming effortlessly, just as the earth blooms after the rain. And even as the rain stops, the wetness stays—a quiet whisper of the love that touched you deeply.
But just as rain does not fall every day, neither does divine masculinity demand constant presence. He understands the rhythm of nature, the necessity of balance, the ebb and flow of energy.
He knows when to stand beside you and when to give you space to dance in your own light. And yet, even in his absence, you will feel his wetness—the traces of care and devotion that do not simply vanish with time.
Dear woman, if you have never felt this rain, do not settle for the desert. If you have only known storms, do not mistake destruction for strength. If you have only known drought, do not believe that love must always be scarce. Divine masculinity exists, and when you align with it, you will know. Not because it shouts its presence, but because it feels like home. And when it leaves, its wetness remains—a memory of something real, something that never needed force to make itself known.
And when you meet a man who carries this energy, you will not have to chase him. His presence alone will speak louder than any words. His actions will echo the truth of his essence.
And most of all, his love will not leave you parched but will nourish you, just as rain nourishes the earth. And even as he steps away, his wetness will remain—a sensation that lingers on your skin, reminding you of the love that left you fuller, not emptier.
So, dear woman, open your heart but do not lower your standards. Welcome the rain, but do not beg for it from clouds that only bring storms. Wait for the presence that feels like home, that heals without harming, that loves without caging. Because even when it passes, its wetness will remain—a sacred touch, a quiet proof that you were loved, held, and honored.
Because when you finally align with the rain of true masculinity, you will understand—you were never meant to wither. You were always meant to bloom. And even in your blooming, you will feel the wetness of the rain that made it possible.'
- Abhikesh
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