There I was, dormant.

If I wasn’t growing, did that mean I was withering? Like Alice in her crazy wonderland, could I even be shrinking in this strange place I had landed? Life is energy and motion. Maybe I was also stagnant? I felt no flow in my body, no current in my veins. I desired touch, affection, affirmation but was numb and didn’t reach out.

Stalled and confused, I wondered. “Should I focus on what is or what isn’t?”

Impatient for answers and results, I pondered the loop of limitations. “Is this like Dorothy in Oz?” I mumble to myself. “Would clicking my heels, hoping for clarity, be the key back to my old life and sensual garden?”

Superstitiously clicking my heels together, I hear my good witch whisper, “It’s up to you whether you focus on the weeds or cultivate the flowers.”

“Cultivate the flowers, cultivate the flowers!” I echo back to the invisible being.

Magically, the fog cleared and my senses began to re-engage. Poppies went from grey to scarlet and I smell the life around me. She was right. I just needed the faith to return and nurture my vessel in order to let it flow – reconnecting with the magically sensual forces of the feminine instead of questioning.

Nature’s seeds, tiny pearls of excitement and knowledge, were already within me. Rebirth is encoded into life. It’s cycle and rhythm were present, just asking to be fed. Seeds were already there for whatever I could hope to grow. If I wanted to share my garden of delights, she needed cultivating before showing renewed vigor and blooms again. It was time for fresh nurturing of myself and my body.

With intention, nature’s magical forces found an open, welcoming vessel to thrive in again. If I commit to growing this garden, my sexuality will attract and radiate the energy and love needed to flourish.

A nightmare turned into my very own fairy tale, as I return to my own sensual garden and wonderland.