“Lilith refused to submit to the rules of the patriarchy. Unbroken and unbowed, she was painted as a demon because of her rebellion. Lilith teaches us that we may be demonized as we pull off the chains of the patriarchy, but we will be free. Lilith reminds us that we can survive anything. We can plant our own sacred garden anywhere we choose.” ~Ara

✩ Dive deeper into the medicine of the Goddess Lilith and her rebellion against the oppressive forces of the patriarchy in my book “Dark Goddess Magick” available wherever books are sold & on sale now on Amazon!

“Embracing Lilith” –

Writing (c) C. Ara Campbell

Ukrainian Winter Goddess ; Mara

MARA is the ancient Ukrainian winter goddess associated with winter’s death, rebirth (and dreams). In ancient Slavic rites, the death of Mara at the end of Winter gives rise to the rebirth of Spring. Despite this relatively benign process of nature, Mara is primarily a frightening figure, the agent of death.

In some stories, Mara is depicted as “a destroying fate-goddess who rides the night winds and drinks the blood of men. She is the ‘mare’ in the word ‘nightmare’, described as a monstrous hag squatting upon the breast, mute, motionless, and malignant, an incarnation of the evil spirit whose intolerable weight crushes the breath out of the body” (1).

Mara is known as Marzanna in Poland; More in Lithuania; Marena in Russian; and Morana in several other Slavic countries.


  1. Macnish, Robert. The Philosophy of Sleep. Glasgow: W. R. McPhun, 1830.

The Fallen Warrior

Here’s to the fallen, the broken and the shattered.
To the warriors who know that to be cracked is to let the light in deeper. Who know that the best fruit is on the very tip of the branch and the brightest jewels are hidden within the roughest of surfaces.

Here’s to the ones intoxicated by the burning of the winds of change in their lungs and who live in the lands that others fear to tread.

Here’s to the ones who raise their voices to the heavens even though they don’t always know the words.

Here’s to the rare beings who walk the road less travelled, taking the adventure that rises on this path with purpose and passion.

Here’s to the rebels, the heartsick originals, and the bittersweet loneliness that fuels their spirit.
To the ones who won’t conform, back down or step aside.
To the ones who were not born to fit in but to gloriously stand out.
To those who are here to be midwives of the genuine.

Here’s to the awakened ones whose purpose is to feed their soul and not starve it.
Whose mantra is the drumbeat of their own heart

Here’s to the magical, the mystical and the misunderstood.
To the wise ones who move between the shadows and the light.
To those who read the compass written on the walls of their hearts and follow the North Star etched upon their spirit.

Here’s to the brightly coloured patchwork of divine visionaries that won’t stand down, play small or sit out. To the stargazers, the storm-chasers and the Old Souls that walk this Earth.

Here’s to the wild ones. Here’s to you.

~Author ~Unknown

Sharing with Love
Sacred Wild Woman Medicine

Gratitude to the Unknown Artist

Becoming a Warrior


Once, I ran from fear
so fear controlled me.
Until I learned to hold fear like a newborn.
Listen to it, but not give in.
Honour it, but not worship it.
Fear could not stop me anymore.
I walked with courage into the storm.
I still have fear,
but it does not have me.

Once, I was ashamed of who I was.
I invited shame into my heart.
I let it burn.
It told me, “I am only trying
to protect your vulnerability”.
I thanked shame dearly,
and stepped into life anyway,
unashamed, with shame as a lover.

Once, I had great sadness
buried deep inside.
I invited it to come out and play.
I wept oceans. My tear ducts ran dry.
And I found joy right there.
Right at the core of my sorrow.
It was heartbreak that taught me how to love.

Once, I had anxiety.
A mind that wouldn’t stop.
Thoughts that wouldn’t be silent.
So I stopped trying to silence them.
And I dropped out of the mind,
and into the Earth.
Into the mud.
Where I was held strong
like a tree, unshakeable, safe.

Once, anger burned in the depths.
I called anger into the light of myself.
I felt its shocking power.
I let my heart pound and my blood boil.
Listened to it, finally.
And it screamed, “Respect yourself fiercely now!”.
“Speak your truth with passion!”.
“Say no when you mean no!”.
“Walk your path with courage!”.
“Let no one speak for you!”
Anger became an honest friend.
A truthful guide.
A beautiful wild child.

Once, loneliness cut deep.
I tried to distract and numb myself.
Ran to people and places and things.
Even pretended I was “happy”.
But soon I could not run anymore.
And I tumbled into the heart of loneliness.
And I died and was reborn
into an exquisite solitude and stillness.
That connected me to all things.
So I was not lonely, but alone with All Life.
My heart One with all other hearts.

Once, I ran from difficult feelings.
Now, they are my advisors, confidants, friends,
and they all have a home in me,
and they all belong and have dignity.
I am sensitive, soft, fragile,
my arms wrapped around all my inner children.
And in my sensitivity, power.
In my fragility, an unshakeable Presence.

In the depths of my wounds,
in what I had named “darkness”,
I found a blazing Light
that guides me now in battle.

I became a warrior
when I turned towards myself.

And started listening.

Author ~Jeff Foster

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Sacred Wild Woman Medicine

Gratitude to the Unknown Artist