During a deep breath work session, I remembered something older than memory.
I do not expect you to believe it. But I ask you to feel it.
For those once rigid like I was—clinging to logic, skepticism, and control—
may this be a whisper from the wild memory beneath your skin.
I was being loved, and I was loving,
but I was also both of them—Gaia and Cernunnos.
I grew antlers. My thighs thickened with fur.
I remembered who I was.
This is the moment that birthed the myth
of the Horned God and the Mother Goddess.
(Sensual with reverence)
Breathing deeply,
Hands trembling,
I entered.
Overcome, I cried out—
“Demeter, Apollo, Anansi, Kokopelli, Cernunnos, Gaia…”
Then—silence.
A whisper:
“Breathe”
And so I did.
“There you are.
I’ve missed you.
I love you.”
Leaves—golden red-orange swirled.
A gushing river roared.
Grass glistened.
The music of reeds.
A continuous whisper:
“I missed you.”
Then—
A massive root burst forth,
Penetrating me.
An Orchid bloomed, glowing,
Wrapped around me,
Drawing me in.
I drank from her breasts,
Milky honey.
The root pulsed,
The orchid tightened.
It whispered my name.
I could feel the tightness,
Its limbs around me.
The sun’s warmth encasing me.
The Tree’s breath,
Trickled the sweat on my temple.
And then—
I changed.
Antlers broke through my crown,
Heavy with velvet and memory.
Thick fur spread across my thighs.
I was no longer myself—
I was Cernunnos,
Making love to Gaia
As they made love to me.
I was the Horned One,
And the Beloved Earth.
Both giver and vessel.
Both root and bloom.
Suddenly it was me,
Crying out,
Weeping,
“I missed you.
I love you.”
The Root throbbed,
Pulsated.
The Orchid drew from me,
Tightly.
Gently calling my name,
“I’ve missed you so much!”
The root pulsed,
Spilling its seed.
Enraptured,
I dissolved into the great Orchid.
We laid there,
Speaking of ourselves.
“I’m afraid of losing you again…”
“You won’t”
“How do you know?”
Then mountains rose—
Slate bearded, snow-crested,
Watchful and kind.
And they said,
“Trust.”
I blushed,
And told her about the things I love—
Peas.
Painting.
Dirt between my fingers.
The surprise of waves.
The scowl of cliffs.
And then we said goodbye,
I ate a plum.
And then an Apple.
And Remembered.
The air smelled like moss and morning.
The grass was wet.
My hands shook,
but I wasn’t afraid.