Though I grew up in India, the land of Goddesses, and studied a Hindu tradition for years, nothing prepared me for my awakening to the Divine Feminine.

I grew up knowing She is everywhere and is in everything, from vast oceans to blazing volcanoes, and from the tiniest of wildflowers to crawling ants. Her many faces and forms are worshipped in temples, in shrines on pavements as passersby pause to close their eyes, fold their palms in namaste and ask for her blessings, and even as trees or stones smeared with vermillion and turmeric. 

But I had no idea that Goddesses or Divine Feminine beings could come to us mortals and be part of our lives in a visceral, everyday way. Perhaps swamis and sages who meditated for decades in Himalayan caves or the silence of jungles could be blessed by a vision of her and receive her blessings, but I didn’t at all imagine that she could, or would want to, come to me.

We all pray. Whether or not we get on our knees, fold our hands, or long for something with all our hearts, we all desire and seek something more. I suppose I was praying. I wanted out of my marriage and the Iife I was living but didn’t know how. For I believed that as an Indian wife, I needed to stay married to the same man for life.

That was when Kali entered my life. Literally. One day, I felt her vast, grounded, black presence in the office where I worked, a few feet from my desk. Instantly, I knew it was her. Though I hadn’t prayed to her, I knew she had come to help me leave. Each day, I returned to find her still there, an unbudging and unwavering presence. I placed her picture across from my bed. Her black and red face, lolling tongue, and indomitable stance became my first sight when my eyes opened and my last before they closed at night. She was a femininity beyond what I knew, beyond my culture, and beyond what I had explored spiritually. I hungered for her ferocity, her unbowing, wild power for myself. She lent me her strength and permission to dismantle my fear and shame, act on my desire, and break what was taboo to centuries of my women ancestors.

Kali is the goddess of destruction. Fearless, fierce, and formidable, she tears down structures, internal and external, that keep us bound, disempowered and untrue as human and divine beings. Her method is swift, bold, and certain. Mizuta Masahid wrote in his Haiku poem “Barn’s burnt down — now I can see the moon.” Kali is the hand that strikes the match to set your barn ablaze. Once she steps in, you can be sure that what needs to go will go, however much you may be clinging to it, and however uncertain and afraid you may feel. For it is only by destroying what no longer serves you and is false for you that you can discover your truth. Only when what is holding and keeping you from seeing who you are is demolished can you see and awaken to your vaster freedom, light, and beauty. Only when you are ready, will she come to you to light your longings, hopes and dreams into a blaze.

Her work is not violence for violence’s sake, but is born from her heart overflowing with love for you. For she is the Divine Mother. She clears your way to give you what you most desire and need, whether or not you know it, imagine it, or believe it. She does for you what you cannot do for yourself. She knows what you need beyond what you do.

Many of us know Kali as the great destructress. But not so many of us know her as the Great Mother. She comes to you when you are lost and broken, despairing and hopeless, to mother you in a way you may never have been mothered.

So it was for me. The great dark Mother came to me as I lay in bed each night after I left my marriage. I lay, afraid and lonely, not knowing how to take my next step. Huge and full like the night, with the faint fragrance of sandalwood, she came to hold me. Just that. To simply hold me. She cradled me like an infant on her wide lap, in her broad black arms, against the warmth of her breast. And with her, I dropped into something that was endless and endlessly nourishing. With her, I drank deep of a love I had never known, a trust that would never betray, and a protection that nourished my cells, my blood, and my bones. With her, I could just be; she asked nothing of me in return. She only gave fully and unconditionally. With her, I could grieve and let go of my past. With her, I could receive and surrender. And fall into who I truly am. And so, for seven years, I drank from Kali’s maternal presence. 

However we have been mothered, there is always more love that we need, whatever our age. Not knowing and experiencing unconditional love is the root cause of so many of our struggles and challenges, heartaches and pains. 

Divine Mother holds us all in her arms and against her breasts with unconditional love. With her, we come to know we are loved beyond measure. She heals our wounds and shines a light on our shadow. She fans the beauty of our gifts and the flames of our hearts. All we need to do is approach and ask of her with outstretched arms, to be lifted and uplifted to all that we are.