I see it everywhere and everywhere around me in my inner world. How she is misunderstood, misinterpreted and distorted into something she really isn’t. This guise that we see in the outer form of the matriarchal feminine which is our participation of a within which is also without. An embodiment which we clothe our surroundings with in the absence of our acknowledged relationship to what she is within us. In her highest sense she is pure Nature, Rádienáhkká. Her embrace is our psychic experience of being directly related to her. Without her space, of what she is in our bodily communion with her, beyond her cultural psychic manifestation of Máttaráhkká. Our mother of all grandmothers. We don’t see her as the underlying constant creator she is in herself which unceasingly gives of itself completely. That heals and contributes to the path that makes us who we are. Not by what we take from her and blend with what we do in the belief that all she is is what we do. That her presence is somehow achieved by us when we have entered her space. Not that she was there the whole time. And that it was something that we occupied ourselves with that made us susceptible to perceiving her influence on us. She is not an opinion. Or the comfort and safety of ideas, or the perception of how things should be. Nor is her experience something we relate to in the belief that the sense of belonging she creates is what we make of her in a transferred sense. It will only take us further away from her, and make us feel left out of life. As if it didn’t really belong to us. She is that which is beyond all objects, and all situations that we create and transform into another state when we veil them with her. And it’s not about gender. Whether we prefer our body to our psychic consciousness or vice versa. But about psychological awareness and personal courage. They are both our connection to her. It is about being able to accept her presence around us and become who she has put within us to emulate.