She sits, rooted on her throne, a representation of the Goddess in mortal form. Her form is seated on the source of her strength. Not the chair itself. That is just a device, a symbol, a prop that represents to the eye what she already knows in her being. That she draws her power from the earth, from the Goddess herself.

The Queen is easy in her body. She knows her purpose. Her posture is open, welcoming, and receptive. She is always ready to move, in whatever direction she might need, but her energy is not coiled in anticipation. Instead, her entire being exudes grounded potential. She responds to what is asked of her, or presented to her. She does not react, which would take her out of connection with her Source. Instead, she receives it all, the requests, pleas, petitions and tributes. She takes them into herself. Lets them flow through her, feels them, mulls them over and marinates them (even if, to the outside world, it looks like only an instant passes). She ripens them inside of her, watching for the window of time and space to open. Only then, when the moment is auspicious, does she move from reception to action.

The Queen is comfortable in her seniority. She doesn’t long for the time when she was a princess. She doesn’t grasp for the wild attentions paid to maidens. She welcomes the ardent adoration that comes, when it comes. She watches the young ones vie for affection, tempting suitors and playthings. How they chase after distractions… But she loves the depth. The layers of knowing and being known with another that only can come from years of learning the pages of oneself. The profound faith that what she is giving to her beloveds is a gift. That she is a gift. Not a trifling trinket gift that sits on a shelf or in a box. A treasure bestowed, an offering in the deepest sense. She knows that all of life is an altar, and that everything she gives well, does well, honors the Divine.

Her purpose is clear. It is to heal and transmute the fear and pain of her people. To give hope and wisdom, love and guidance. She does not serve herself, although she benefits well from what she creates. And she grants herself special beauties and boons, because she understands the importance of enjoying her life, her form, her surroundings. She is not lavish; she loves herself well. She is generous with herself, as she is generous with others, although she holds a portion in reserve. This portion is for the blessed ones. The ones who are behind her, supporting her, tending to her and, who, through their kind love and wise council, provide the cornerstones of the throne upon which she rests. She knows that, without them, she could not fulfill her purpose. So, for them, she holds an allotment apart, should they ever need it. For them, she would raise up her sword and go to battle. Because without them, she would not be Queen, and her charges would go untended. She loves them most fiercely, because they are her foundation.

She knows the deepest shapes of Joy, this Queen. The Joy that comes from knowing her own solidity and permeability. The Joy of trusting her strength and wisdom, while also celebrating her vulnerability and all the things she does not know…cannot know. Joy that carries with it humble gratitude for all she has, because she also knows all she has lost. Her Joy is a foundation that undergirds everything. It is hers. If she surrendered everything else, gave up throne and realm, lovers and confidants, she would still have the Joy. Because it isn’t just in her. It is her.