Consecrating The Red Fortress: A Womanifesto For The Womb-Keeper.

Great Protectress, perhaps the time has come to lock the gates, fill the moat, and station yourself at the highest point.

You will know this time has come when your bones rattle with a fierce need for solitude, sanctity, and soul-nourishment.

Thoughts of lovers and wanderers long-gone incite a rage most righteous; a seemingly benevolent knight who persuaded you to drop your portcullis left you bleeding, you were taken by force by the blade-bearers, or you even let one of these less-malignant warriors live inside your red walls while his own wounds healed.

Yes, you have evicted those who sucked your power from your sacred center, so hear my words when I affirm your perfection: You are absolutely blameless, Womb-Keeper. Anyone who tells you differently is striking at air with a dull sword. You guarded your fortress as you do now, with all that you are, and you have always been positively infallible in any decision affecting this holy place.

My love, you have been charged with the protection of a portal-to-the-mystery. Inside your keep lie all answers to questions of life, death, and divinity. Your precious red palace is a target because the power that lies within it threatens to shake this world to its foundations.

The wanderers you guard against may only want to look upon the magnificence of the chalice, to drink from the cup most holy, and to unite with you in its protection. Let them visit if you so choose, but know that you do not need them.

Your womb is whole and perfect as it is, and only you wield the power to smudge away all traces of those who have entered.

Such fierce discernment you exercise, Womb-Keeper, only letting those inside who you deem worthy. Once the physical presence of these visitors is gone from your sacred space, Warrior-Queen, close the gates and clean your room. They leave things behind, you know — a blow to your self-esteem here, a residual longing there.

Toss out the garbage, Protectress. Anything inside this Goddess Temple that does not validate your soul’s immeasurable worth does not belong there. Check the corners and under the bed. Ring the bells in the dark places, light the white candle, and burn all the sage you have in store.

And that vulnerable place that the most parasitic invaders always seem to find, that window that was broken so long ago with words, fists, or both, seal it up now with your bare hands. It may hurt and your hands may bleed. You may need help from your sisters, but seal this perfect place. You are without guilt, shame, or blame.

It is your birthright, Womb-Keeper, to know this place as your own. You are the Divine Feminine embodied, and it is Shakti Herself who lives inside your red walls.

Go into the dungeon and release those who hide there. Open doors that you have kept locked for so many years. Cleanse this castle like it is your job, Woman. Seek out anyone lurking in your shadows and call them into the light. Ask them why they still reside in your sacred space, then tell them to get the hell out.

Consecrate your womb-palace, Priestess, then raise the drawbridge and get to the highest tower.

If a knight comes to your gate claiming to be on a mission of the heart, be sure he has not been sent by someone else. He is on his own mythic journey, of course, but you must be certain he knows of the privilege he is being granted. You are the Womb-Keeper. You choose for whom the gate opens.

Do not let anyone question your decision. You are infallible. You are a Maiden of Mother Moon, and inside your womb spirals all the memories of your bloodline.

An act of womb-protection is an act in shielding the wombs of all women, alive, dead, and yet to be born. Be vigilant we must, for the day when the chalice is no longer feared has not yet come. The sacred feminine and the sacred masculine are for you, my love. All else is residual waste from a dying time.

Hear the echoes of battle-cries that can no longer harm you; they are but phantoms sent by a waning patriarchy. Do not let these sounds make you tremble or go into hiding. Stand atop your tower, Palace Priestess, and permit entry only to those who know your magnificence.

Should you be deceived, my love, it is no matter, for we all have been. Indoctrinated patterns exist deep within us all, and our battered wombs have become accustomed to insult. Consecrate your space and reaffirm its integrity. You keep a swirling cauldron of the life-death force in there, after all; it will not be all rose oil and chocolate.

Be wary of those who tell you this keep of yours is so worthless you may as well leave the gate open, but also be skeptical of anyone who argues that you are choiceless.

Great Protectress, I fiercely affirm your absolute power as the Matriarch of your womb. Any decision you have made regarding this place is positively unquestionable. Any judgment you will make about what lies within these hallowed walls is entirely your own.

You decide who gets in, and you banish them when you decide it is time for them to go. This temple is yours, Protectress, and it is your name on the deed. No one else can claim this property as their own; it was yours the day you were born, and it will be yours until you return to Gaia’s green ground.

Womb-Keeper, there will be days when you wake inside your red walls under the billowing silk — in which you will feel the burden of your fortress is too great, and want to succumb to the beliefs of those who tell you of your dependence. Those seeking to diminish the fortitude of your red castle will tell you that you cannot do it alone.

We will keep you safe, Woman, they say. Sign this property over to us, for you cannot possibly guard against all worldly threats. Woman, you need us. Do you really want this place anyway? It seems to be such a weight on your shoulders. Let us have it, and you need not worry your pretty head over it any longer.

For the love of all that is holy, Priestess, do not listen to them. You were born to rule over your great fortress as if it contained the entirety of the world’s wealth, as it does. Know that inside your Red Fortress lies the sheer, raw force of Goddess.

There will come a time when She will no longer be contained, a time when She will erupt with a sound so great that some humans will need to shield their ears. But you won’t, Woman. This is the sound you have been waiting for, the sound of your liberation.

This awesome cry will rock your red walls, sending brick and mortar in all directions. This great resonance harkens a world reborn to a Mother returned, and you are instrumental in this global destiny.

For now, Dear One, rid this place of those things that threaten its integrity, then get to the highest point. You are the Womb-Keeper, and you are destined to be worshiped as the beloved Protectress of the Divine Feminine.

Your walls house the forces of dark and light, and your Womanifesto is this:

My Womb-Fortress is sacred space, and I will protect its boundaries with all that I am. I will cut the energy-cords of those who have been inside my womb and wronged me. I assume absolute infallibility for any and all decisions regarding my womb, and I will not be blamed, shamed, or denigrated.

This temple is mine, and mine alone, and I will honor the power that lies inside these womb walls. I know that in healing my own wounds, I heal those of all women who came before me. In claiming rulership over my Holy Place, I charge other women to do the same. So may it be for my sacred womb, so may it be for yours. All blessings be.


DanielleDulskyDanielle Dulsky is a multi-passionate entrepreneur, energy-healer, Yoga teacher, multi-media artist, and magickal mentor. She holds the highest designation from Yoga Alliance as an E-RYT500, and is on a mission to inspire women to be fearless creators of their sacred work. She is the founder and creatrix of the Living Mandala Yoga teacher training programs, a Reiki Master in the Usui-Tibetan tradition, and long-time believer in Earth-based traditions. Her work is based on sensing and transforming energetic vibrations, empowering individuals to discover their potential for authentic abundance, using artistic practice intuitively, and holding space for women to unearth their inner goddess through the magick of sisterhood. Danielle leads women circles, witchcraft workshops, a teaching coven, and psychic development intensives in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania where she lives with her partner Ryan, sons Bodhi and Sage, and pet-familiars Jeepster and Raven. She believes that all women alive today are meant to be instrumental in supporting the return of the Divine Feminine. You could contact her via email.


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