A woman, cut off from her natural being, not able to take breath, seek her creativity, muse on her thinkings and then enable her outlet, finds herself as a mere shred of the little girl she once remembered. The daily grind of routine, of looking after others, will eventually take its toll. She finds her well empty. Her whole self is immersed in the duty of providing for those around her. This leaves her bound into something which is dry and the equivalent to a psychic wasteland.

Women who can bring out their natural being through her constant expressive of the divine feminine experience a much difference existence. They are more positive. There is a greater abundance of patience and love. She finds herself buoyed by opportunity and almost miraculously she finds room for more and more of life pleasures. This is important if she is to continue to be the glue within family, the motivator within a team, the maven who connects others or the deep creative whose acts work to change the world step by step.

Finding the space to explore one’s own being is like releasing the overflowing dam. The flush of water brings nourishment not only to her but to those things around her. It is here that her well fills once more and she can greet each day with new enthusiasm and verve to step into her many diverse roles; that of mother, sister, aunt, friend and confidante, business owner, strategist, organiser, healer.

It is here that she finds the hidden rooms to her potential. The natural curious bent of women, the solvers and fixers, is supported by time spent away from the responsibilities and pull of her role, whatever that may be in her life.

But those, whose will to experience, to feel, to think, is hindered is one of a more fiendish darkness that is felt differently depending on a woman’s journey. It can literally destroy her soul. It can make her negative or just plain sad. It can affect the way she looks, her very complexion, her gait, her response to even the most simple. It makes life hard. It takes her so far from the time where she once ran free as a small child. And in the back of her mind, that memory of the wide expanse of ‘come what may’ provides a constant sting that over time can still be felt but is best forgotten.

The struggle can be hidden though. You talk to enough women and they will offer the range of things they have conceded; given up because its too hard to preserve it. They put their anxiety or their sadness way down deep into their bodies so they can get up to make it through the day. This ‘lot’ is common. But so many of us accept it. We find ourselves with controling partners, bosses who drive us for more, media that guilts us into thinking we are less than whole. The merry-go-round is relentless. Ultimately you need to fling yourself off the pony and put the sprakly music that has previously hypnotised you behind you.

Our choices also seem to perpetuate our likelihood to be trapped. We often ignore that flutter in the pits of our stomachs which tell us that doing that certain thing is a bad idea. We laugh it off. We tell ourselves that it’s for the best by putting our best second to the needs of others. We cease the nagging by burying ourselves into a range of chores that slowly erode our smiles. But it is our intuition that can be our guiding light. If only we would listen to it more fully. If only we would let its wisdom hum through us and guide us, free from judgment.

There is the double edged sword. To hear intuition beckoning us to choose differently we need the quite space to enable us to listen. In the blur of the world you need to put your ear to the mystical and show it you intend to respect it by almost holding your breath in order to hear every word. It will know you are ready. Guiding you each step of the way, it will continue its thread of good advice. It’s up to you to put your ear close. From there you must also learn your own way of trusting it. Like a small bundle of light, it is sometimes hard to catch and even harder to contain. But we all learn in our own way. The first step is being ready.

A woman trapped is almost recognizable on the street. It depends on how adept she is at keeping her concerns to herself. There are many of us; not smiling, deep in another world, harried with our physic beauty glowing in a shade of gray. Spend time with woman and listen to their journey of tiny steps toward becoming a faint glimpse of something now dimmed. Its a universal experience, some more war-torn than others.

Ironically, a trapped woman is also one who cuts herself from her intimacy, not only with herself but with her partner. One of the strongest energies of women is her sexual being. It is not by accident that this is put into a safe place (hopefully for later) when she is disconnected from her being. So there are all the usual complaints from both sides of a relationship, whether it is with a male or a female partner, that there is no love, there is no excitement. The partner questions what is going on, tries to help, or worse, seeks the love and intimacy within the arms of another. The common ground from which to rebuild is a difficult one to find. But it is there and available if you allow a woman her space. Some of us just need a little but some of us may never have enough.

Unlocking the door begins with taking small steps towards space. I hate to use the word but sometimes, in the very beginning, you just need to steal it because that is the only way you are going to get it. If you could take 10 minutes from your life to start the most important thing ‘for you’, what would you do? Go ahead, write it down. Look at it. Don’t ask why or change your mind, give yourself a 10 minute slot, each day and start that one small step towards reconnecting with your self.