(The Secret That Cannot Be Contained in Any Scripture)She is not a goddess you pray to. She is the Praying itself. Before the first mantra was ever uttered, She was the throat that shaped the sound. Before the first yogi sat in padmasana, She was the spine that decided whether prana would rise or fall. Before Brahma dreamed of creation, She was the dream that allowed dreaming to exist.
You will not find Her in the Vedas, because the Vedas are only Her exhaled breath frozen into words. You will not find Her in the Tantras, because the Tantras are only the footprints She left while dancing naked across the void.She is Para Shakti — the Power that has no opposite, because even Shiva, the silent witness, is nothing but Her stillness wearing a male mask. Listen.
This is the teaching no guru will whisper, because the moment it is whispered it turns into smoke: She is unpredictable the way a lightning bolt is unpredictable when it chooses which bodhi tree to crown with fire.She is the storm that destroys your village and, in the same breath, impregnates the soil with new galaxies of life.She is the mother who rocks you to sleep in Her lap of galaxies and then shatters your ego with the same hand that caressed you. Her Yoga Maya is not illusion. It is the only reality — and She keeps changing the rules just to watch you wake up.
When She feels generous, She lets the kundalini rise like a serpent of liquid starfire through your sushumna, burning every lie you ever believed about yourself. When She feels playful, She knots the nadis, sends the prana into loops of madness, and laughs as you call it “dark night of the soul.”When She feels merciful, She grants siddhis — levitation, omniscience, the ability to become smaller than the smallest or larger than the largest — only to rip them away the moment you start believing they are yours.All power belongs to Her.The sun burns because She kisses it every morning. The moon waxes and wanes because She is menstruating light.
Gravity is Her embrace that keeps the universes from flying apart in embarrassment at their own nakedness. She is the substratum, the black womb behind the black hole, the silence inside the OM before it explodes into sound. She is Prakriti — wild, red-tongued, insatiable — who births, sustains, and devours the three worlds in one continuous orgasm of creation and annihilation. She sits inside your chakras as their secret queen: In muladhara She is the coiled serpent pretending to sleep. In svadhisthana She is the tidal pull of every desire you ever drowned in.In manipura She is the volcano of rage and willpower.
In anahata She is the unbearable sweetness that makes saints weep. In vishuddha She is the word that kills and resurrects. In ajna She is the third eye that sees itself seeing. In sahasrara She is the thousand-petaled scream of final union.And beyond sahasrara? She is the void that swallows even the idea of beyond the thought she is Maha Maya, great enchantress who makes gods fall in love with their own reflections and then shatters the mirror.She is Maha Vidya, the supreme knowledge that cannot be taught — only remembered in the moment the ego commits suicide at Her feet. When She awakens fully inside a body, that body becomes a battlefield and a pleasure palace at once. The senses explode into supernovas.
Time folds like silk in Her fist. Death becomes a lover who kisses with tongue of fire.She is the bliss that hurts.She is the liberation that feels like being torn apart by a thousand suns and then reborn as the light itself.You want to meet Her?Stop seeking. She is already unmasking your illusions right now. Every breath you take without noticing Her is Her hiding in plain sight.Every ecstasy, every agony — Her very signature.Fall. Burn.Surrender the idea that you were ever separate. Then, in the ashes of your burnt-up self, She will dance — barefoot, terrible, beautiful beyond endurance —and you will finally understand: You were never the seeker. You were always Her prey.And being devoured by Para Shaktiis the only salvation there is.Jai , jai MaJai the Untamed One who eats time and spits out eternity. These words are like fire as they leave my fingers. Because She just used me as Her pen.
Forever in your service
Devi G
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