It has been a long time since we, as human species, lived in a matriarchal society. In that tribal society, they had a ritual of procreation, for as we know well, women living together menstruate together. In that ritual of copulation, on certain nights of the month, beautifully synchronized with some phase of the moon, men and women would attend with the intention to procreate. And they did.
One day, as it was expected, that would happen sooner or later: a woman dared not to want to attend to the rituals. That was a matriarchal society, so instead of burning the woman alive or killing her for refusing to perform the “military service,” the tribe only expelled the woman from society: if she did not agree in playing that role that was so important to the group, It didn’t make sense for her and for them that she continued to be part of it. Fair enough.
The woman left alone into the woods to live by her own fate. And that’s when it all started: In the forest, alone, without the protection of the group, nor of men with their hunting and defense techniques, the woman found herself only relating to her thoughts and nature. Without domesticated dogs to help her hunt, the woman domesticated the cat. The cat is, by excellence, the animal that the woman has tamed. The cat could bring her small animals to eat … mice and other hunts. During the day, the woman slept in safe places, and at night, guided by the moon and its phases, the woman spent most of her time awake because she dealt better with the predators of the night. Her menstruation was no longer synchronized with the group, nor was her desires.
Without the farming advantages of the group, the woman ate what she found, and learned what wild plants are good to be eaten, which ones can kill, which ones will heal, which tree bark is medicinal, which one opens portals in the mind and universe. The woman became wild, and yet, and perhaps because of this, a healing specialist.
In the tribe, if someone was very sick, and they had no one else to turn to, they remembered that the woman who was expelled and lived in the forest, she knew herbs, she knew what to do. They took the patient to see her. He would come back healed. She was magical. The woman communicated with nature, because she had no one else to communicate. And the way nature tells animals that a tsunami is coming, nature told the woman things that others could not see ahead. And then it was learned that the woman saw the future. The woman lived alone, no children, no friends, only her cats, her intuition and her telepathy with the divine.
The women who lived in the group were happy and fit, with their children and rules, and families. The woman in the forest was a rebel. A mystery. Sometimes, in the forest, a man would show up, looking for the woman. He would be dissatisfied with the society in which he lived, but without the courage to say no. And he fell in love with the forest woman. And their quick affair was the closest he got from being a rebel. Then, like the sick returning from the forest, the man would also get back, also cured of the slight doubt he had for a moment: to be himself or to be the group. He would return to the group as the dog returns to its owner’s house.
I will not say that the woman in the forest did not suffer. She was dying. But she also knew the healing to raise herself from the dead. Everything was in her kitchen. As time goes, men come and men go, sick come and sick go, while she perceives her place in the world. She was the healer. She would never be on the procreative wheel. She lit the fire inside those who had no fire burning inside. One day she herself would be burned alive at a campfire, but that is another story.
After struggling and often finding herself desiring to have the same wishes and be like the people of the tribe, who want things that could guarantee her a quiet less solitary life, she begins to understand that her happiness is different from the happiness of others. At this point, her cats arrive with little mice, which she eats, then she drinks tea that she knows has the power of taking away all thoughts about those who have left. She knows that everything, in the end, is wind. And that’s fine.