Awakening the Divine Feminine.
Un-earthing Feminine Wisdom.
Flame Keeper.



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I was never very good at school
In fact when Shakti and I started teaching Wild Woman courses together I had pain body memory through teaching
And we had to call it circle
And gathering
To make sure the intention was clear
We were sharing information that had awakened in us because it was our birthright and dare I say duty to do so and healing others
Heals us- no one was telling anyone what to do or giving them orders or rules. No hierarchy. Just. Sharing. Because when I was a little baby starseed I couldn’t believe teachers could tell others what to do. I remembered a land where everyone was autonomous and equal. I was always raising my hand and getting kicked out for speaking my heart.
The seat of teacher is a tricky one
You might have noticed I’m uncomfortable with labels these days
They allow for no expansion
And in all this constant chaos of fall
Were changing as our lives change faster everyday
But I like to think of myself as a pretty good student of life
I’m always asking what am I learning? Doing my best to bow to the lesson as threshold
What is God/Goddess/Spirit trying to teach me?
We know we are on the right path
When our life is filled with synchronicities
Signs everywhere
Green lights
I know we have to let things go
For them to come back
I know we sometimes have to forget
So we can remember
And sometimes we have to take a step back from it
To see what it is
I have always had to run away from home
To miss it
I’ve done that since I was a kid

The response to me stopping doitgirl broke my big ass divine feminine heart

And when I stopped serving
I started dying
I didn’t glow and I didn’t hear goddess
And nothing
I was rudderless in the sea of life
I was like Darryl Hannah in Splash when they take her out of the water- to make her a “normal” woman
And she weakens and grows so tired and her beautiful glittery scales turn gray and peeling
And then I realized Doitgirl isnt me
Doitgirl is the vessel through which I serve

It’s barely a pen name
It was a credo given to me by god when I woke up
It was a call to shift the planet
it was a call for the feminine to rise in balance with the masculine
For transformation

It’s a call to arms
Not the kind we shoot with
But the kind we hold each other with

I can no easier stop writing for god
As I can stop breathing
I am nothing without my service
I don’t want ever
to stop serving

My addiction to symbolism and language rearranged
Which is Gaelic for letter

And when I first woke up
I called these channelings
“Letters from the light”
Which is spirit which is God which is Goddess
I could change DOITGIRL to GODLITIR but I’ll humbly accept the name
I was given
Although I do love the hidden code within

As my friend Jesse said
“Nice artist move, Sarah”

She said you’re just gonna break up the band
To get it back together
And nothing in me could tell her she was wrong
Consider the band
Back together.
Cue the music. xo


OK Here Goes

I know this is not a cage you’ve put me in
I know it’s mine, my self - imposed cage.
We cage ourselves into our comfort zones. We think we are protecting ourselves
when we’re actually imprisoning ourselves and cutting ourselves off from the true experience of life itself. There is no true safety in life, no gurantees except right now. It should be, as Helen Keller says, a daring adventure or nothing. My comfort zone is DOITGIRL.
One time, a teacher told me a story about a prison being broken open by viglantes. And when the freedom fighters came through opening cells, many lifelong prisoners were too afraid to walk free. They had grown too comfortable. And it was all they knew, so they huddled in the back of their cells and refused to come out despite life and freedom itself beckoning. The unknown was far more terrifying than their known prison. I think of everything as a metaphor, and this one is particularly potent for me at this time.

As wild women-
If we are going to call ourselves that
We should walk as that-
We should always be looking for the current force/idenity/thoughts and beliefs that cages us in.
For me it’s my handle my limiting mantle- an emodied woman wearing the name of GIRL-
it’s these titles of teacher priestess and… witch.

What cages you?

The other night a man said to me as he wrapped up our conversation, “Alright, DOITGIRL.”
And I didn’t realize how weary I was from carrying that identity. I shook my head, tired, like a mule having carried a tourist’s heavy baggage up a winding Greek road. “No,” I said softly.

"No?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"Then, who?" he asked.

"Sarah," I said, "whoever that is."

"Whoever any of us are," he shrugged with a smile. And all that freedom all that unknown felt so exhilirating. I didn’t realize I’d become so caged. For days after that conversation I was relishing in the deep mystery of life, which is the true nature of the feminine- MYSTERY. I was saying I DONT KNOW AND I DONT WANT TO KNOW! It was like skydiving, something I’ve always been too afraid to do. It was a freefall. Then I started to write as DOITGIRL again and the old feeling of confinement crept back in. My self imposed walls to this lonely castle I keep my heart "safe" in. Rumi 101: "Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." I cage me. I resist love. And our work at every moment is to receive as much love as we can so that we can give as much love as we can. The more we love ourselves the more we can love others the more we trust ourselves the more we can trust others the more compassion we have for ourselves the more we have for others. I cage me. No one else does. And no one but ourselves holds the key to our own liberation.

I’m seeking and by seeking I mean opening myself up to receive
a better way to serve that serves me so I can serve on a higher level. Which means I’m going to have to walk down some dark hallways alone for a little while as I leave the seat of my comfort, and I’m goign to have to take my own hand in the dark.

I’m tired of a fight that I don’t believe should be a fight anymore. I remember bursting out of the broom closet singing it from the top of my lungs when I discovered my wild inner wise woman. But I believe the witch- a woman aligned with the earth and moon and her own intiution- should be a householder, as in, dare I say, NORMAL. Not a fringe movement. She stands for and is aligned with the earth, and there should be nothing crazy about that. {I dont think its crazy to want to save the world, I think it’s crazy not to}. I’m so tired of saying it but it will never not be true, as we heal ourselves we heal everyone around us and the earth itself, as our bodies and the earth are one. A fight for the feminine is a fight for the earth. And Magic- and my magic is Love- should be the norm. Fear should be what’s crazy. Love, love should be the norm. So I’m going to stop talking about it for now and I’m just going to live it. As Paulo Coehlo says, your example is much stronger than your word. I’ll always be aligned with the earth and the moon and ancient feminine wisdom will always be bubbling up inside of me. I’ll keep writing, but in another form. This is the life of someone aligned with nature, changing as constantly as she does. Why is it so strange to be constantly evolving, when that’s all nature is ever doing? She’s never the same woman twice. Look around she is in a constant state of change and you are supported to do the same. When we don’t grow, we die. Just like nature. When we get blocked, we get sick. Just like nature. {fear blocks us love moves us}. We are one with nature. Look to her for all your wisdom. Love and nature are the same force and will offer you the same wisdom.

I’ve had to fight so hard that in turn I became a fighter not a lover. I long to go soft and receive and open up to ever constant mystery. And being so aligned with nature it would be against my very nature and nature itself to fight during a time of earthly surrender as the wheel turns and the Equinox- a time to bury your past for good- comes quick on soft cool winds.

{By the way, for those of you have asked, about what to do for the NEW MOON/EQUINOX, I’m talking full on funeral burial RELEASE ritual of the ghosts of your past the stories and identities all the bull shit - the ghosts of the past you keep bringing into your present- you keep carrying with you like that Grecian donkey. Dress up light candles go for it}.

If I could offer you something it would be to love your present way more that your past. Treat the present like a lover who deserves your total presence. Tell it, I love you far more than my past. I am totally here for you, in this with you 100%. Choose your present moment and don’t look back, don’t bring the past into the present. It’s how we miss life and love, by lingering in the past. I love you dear present moment, nothing that came before you is more important than you. And tell that to your lovers too.

There should be nothing weird or fringe about a woman awakened to her feminine nature, aligned with the seasons of the earth and the phases of the moon. There should be nothing terrifying about the belief that- in a universe of polarity- God could exist in a feminine form. Nothing “woo woo” about being protectresses of the earth and a friend to all creatures. That just because nature and animals don’t TALK doesn’t mean they aren’t in constant high level communication. Nothing strange about the belief that we have the power to heal ourselves each other and the planet.

My admin will be posting more on my retreat with Shakti Sunfire and our next course, in rituals and books and those courses is where you’ll be able to find me.

And, I’ve been suppressing this other side of me, that just wants to write romantic comedies and have a baby. Did you know I was funny? Probably not, as there is nothing knee slap laugh worthy about death and rebirth and the supression, or near extinction, of the Feminine, or the witch hunts, a gender genocide that caused women to hide from their true wild nature in a concrete Patriarchal world in an attempt at saving their own lives. But I’m tired. I want to write books in a kimono with a baby on my lap and tea on the stove.
I have to allow space for that dream.

If I’m really going to practice the self-love that I teach I have to do what my heart calls for.
If I’m really going to listen to the whispers of my own heart in a time of waning moon energy- a time of deep release- I’m going to let go of this identity so that it can transform. I knew I was being asked to let go something big but I never imagined it would be this big. { But I dont believe things die, just transform. }It’s time I practice the most feminine art of receiving. And only when I let go with total trust, of everything, when my hands are totally empty, can I truly embody the art of receptivity.

I don’t think there’s anything more that I fear than being a wise woman who doesn’t take her on medicine so
I’ve got to slow down turn in nurture myself and take my own medicine. It’s not my fight anymore. The Goddess is back, and she lives in all of you.

Listen to the words of Mary Magdalene, Mary Oliver, Rumi, Hafiz, Osho, Maya Angelou, anyone who stands for freedom of the human spirit.

But none could be more important that your own voice that shouts from deep within you, buried by all the external noise. Find her, uncover her from the rubble of the wars you’ve been fighting with yourself all these years. FInally end the inner war by falling in deep love with yourself. When you end the inner war you end the outer wars. When you are at peace with yourself you are at peace with the world. Take the little girl that cries out to you from deep within, take her to your breast and love the hell out of her, unconditionally.
And may you never self abandon again. But if you do- rise to love yourself again, harder and softer and way way more than you ever did before.
"Come, come, whoever you are.
Wanderer, idolator, worshipper of fire, come even though you have broken your vows a thousand times,
Come, and come yet again. Ours is not a caravan of despair.”

I’m. Letting. Go.

"Truth is not a compromise. It is a total letgo, risking all. Even if you are saving a little bit in case it is needed, you will not find the truth. You are still behaving in a cowardly way. Saving a little bit shows your fear." Osho.


Calling all wild women: get a chance to WIN a 50% discount!
Samhain/Halloween is approaching and so is the Wild Woman Gathering: A Mystery School with Sarah from Do It Girl and Shakti Sunfire, a 6-day training and retreat!

Participants must ‘share’ this photo (click ‘share’ below) from the DOITGIRL page on their Facebook timeline to be entered in the contest.
Winner will receive a 50% discount off the registration and housing accommodations costs!
DEADLINE: Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2014
Offer only applies to new registrants.
Contact Shakti Sunfire with questions:
Wild Woman Gathering details:

XO Alexandra, DOITGIRL Admin



Tenalach, a word used in the hills and mountains in the west of Ireland, allows one to literally hear the earth sing. (submitted by tenalach)

(via irishbroads)

Souls love. That’s what souls do. Egos don’t, but souls do. Become a soul, look around, and you’ll be amazed-all the beings around you are souls. Be one, see one.

Ram Dass (via thequotesiquote)

(via thewhimsyofthings)

(via villenoire)

(via the-absolute-best-posts)

The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it - basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them.

Bukowski, Charles. Tales of Ordinary Madness. (via wordsnquotes)

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)

A shot from my magical shoot with Courtney Brooke Hall. I wanna go back and do it all over again!! #avalon #ladyofthelake #doitgirl #lightwitch

I rise from my worst disasters, I turn, I change.

Virginia Woolf, from The Waves (via creatingaquietmind)

(via creatingaquietmind)

Two weeks ago it was if I had waded into the ocean and I knew where I was, I could feel the sand beneath my feet, soft but firm, it wasn’t- I wasn’t- going anywhere and then
but then.
I got swept up in these tidal waves of men and I went under. And if you’re lucky enough to have people watching you on the beach they get worried- they could see you one minute, then one big wave took you and you were gone. Should they rush in and save you? No, I didnt need saving and no one but me could save me from this pattern. I’ve been in those black waves of my old patterns too many times, never to any good, to much destruction. But this time I’m conscious and that makes all the difference. The wrong man, my friend has told me many times, can be the end of you. And I knew that, I’ve lived that, but a small part of me still wanted the drama of destruction.
But then. Somehow, somehow I broke out of the pattern, beneath the waves I felt very certain this time I wasn’t going to let myself drown for lust, I wasnt going down with this ship, this time I’d hold my ground for love. Even though there are times I just wanted the waters to take me, but I’ve done that before, and I almost didn’t make it back, so I clawed, tooth and nail, out of the water, back to my path, back toward my golden throne on the sand. And I emerged, exhausted, from the battle with the waves of the old patterns, crawling out like someone who had just broken a lifelong riptide, back to myself.
I didnt let it take me fully, just the part of me that always lost herself to men, as there had been a whisper from deep below, “lose your self-
no really, lose the self you identify with so tightly, the one who tells the story about who you are in love, the one about you and bad boys and always getting wrecked.” And I let those old patterns get rinsed out in the spin cycle of the waves, and I emerged, washed clean, buffed by the same forces that turn sharp breakable shards into soft eternal sea glass. And the part of me that reemerged from the water
left all the bad boys
behind for
man. And carried away in the waves was the Little Girl who always lost herself to love
and who emerged
was the Woman who simply was Love.

(via treerings-sing)


When I got back from west coast, from the disaster that was my would-be wedding, to find myself in a Brooklyn basement apartment under a bridge, its concrete sidewalks littered with trash, the building lorded over by a racist drunk homophobic misogynistic landlord. I had no identity except “his ex,” and no job and no child and no anything I was supposed to have at the age of thirty in this culture, I felt like a total failure. And I died, I died on that floor. I failed at dreams that had never even been mine.
How was I ever supposed to realize them, if I didn’t truly deep down believe in or want them? I was only following the rules handed to me by the iron fist of Patriarchal culture. And I did not domesticate well. I felt suffocated in houses with white picket fences and by jobs with white male bosses and other women who hated me and were threatened by my untamable nature. I wasn’t ever going to fit in the domestic patriarchal world- I was wild. I was a wildfire. So I tried my hardest to tame myself. I still had white pills pumping through my blood to sedate the Shakti inside me, the screaming Kali, the loving fierce Durga, the sensual Aphrodite, the endless archetypes of Goddess within me.
I had been magic until about seven years old, and then I opened my eyes and looked around- this was not a world that I belonged to or remembered, I truly remembered the wild mystical land of the Goddess. I didn’t belong in the concrete wasteland of father patriarchy I belonged in the wild arms of mother nature. By the time I was eighteen I began to “party” (that always struck me as oxymoronic, shouldn’t a party be joyous?) through my life, and my career as a rock journalist enabled that. I sedated myself and drank through it, Marilyn and Stevie Nicks style but not nearly as glamorous, it was my attempt at creating an alternative universe, not knowing yet there was an internal alternate one, not yet knowing how to find that.
But there is no stopping the waking. When my inauthentic life fell apart, I was terrified- where would a woman like me fit? I would have to strike off and create an entirely different, new place for myself.
The witch whispered to me. They had buried the witch so deep down in the tomb of this culture. They had propagandized Her enough to stigmatize her as ugly and evil, so we might stay far away from her self-empowering magic. A little digging into my own soul and history- or herstory books- proved different. She was a beautiful woman, a mirror of the earth who worked with nature- she was autonomous unto her self. She did not bow to patriarchal culture, its limitations and conformity, which is why she had to be killed.
So, who was the witch? I was startled to find- I was the witch. And it was the first
and only thing that ever made sense in my life. What was I going to do with this information? The wisdom of the earth, the wisdom of the ancients, sacred powerful information. I was the keeper of something ancient tribal and magickal it would be my work to open the tomb, Pandora’s box of feminine magick, unleash it first in my heart and then in the hearts of any women who felt called to hear my song.
My bibles became Women who Run with the Wolves and Dancing in the Flames. My teachers became Marys— Mary Magdalene and Marion (a name which means, “star of the Sea”) Woodman, nature’s scribe Mary Oliver and Marianne Williamson- any “MA”s who taught of the ways of the Mother. And my true teacher of nature, the wild heart of the feminine, became MArtha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts. And the spirit of Martha, on that island, was no lightweight.
Patriarchal power is external – the power is outside oneself, it’s placed in money and materials and the Man. I woke to the power of love, found it internally, and became, like the witch, autonomous. It is matriarchal in nature to become self empowered. When our power is external, outside ourselves, we are limited. When our power comes from within, then we are limitless.
Finally, I took it all off. The make up, the heels, the false dreams, the lies, the veils between truth and the veils between me and other and the Mother. We owe such destruction of egoic veils to Goddess Kali, and she continues to whittle me down to my truth. I was naked. I died to the lies to wake to my truth. And I was held in Her womb on a magical feminine island where I was reborn as my true self- wild, and one with the Mother. - DOITGIRL

(via egyptianworldempress)

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