The Woman . The Co-Creator . The Divine Energy

This reflection moves in layers, collective, personal, ancestral, spiritual, and embodied. It is not linear by design. I invite you to read it as a spiral, not an argument.

Across cultures, before institutional religion, women were understood as life-bearers and life-shapers. Creation was relational, not hierarchical. The divine was dynamic, not gender-exclusive.
 Being a co-creator meant birth, cultivation, knowledge, healing, and the transmission of culture and wisdom, understood through anthropology, not ideology.


Before religion centralized power, women were active participants in creation, not passive recipients of it. They were not necessarily objects of worship, but were seen as a living force of intuition, creation, and life itself.
In many cultures, the power of womanhood was gradually reframed as silence, obedience, or sin.

And I, as a bearer of this inherited sin passed through generations, like many other fragments of the collective “I” in woman-form, have struggled to shed conditioning in order to sing the collective song freely and fully. Not as rebellion, but as a return to harmony, unity, and creation.
What lives in collective history does not remain abstract. It moves through bodies, families, and bloodlines.

For the past few weeks, I have been processing the pain of other fragments of my formation, particularly those in Iran, the ancient heart of Persia. Their pained voices have lived in my throat. Their lived suffering has pulsed in my womb. Hence my silence. My mourning. My inward processing.


I was born in Tehran. That land and its people have shaped me deeply. As a teenager, I learned the language fully, not only to communicate, but to understand the deeper mysteries of the land. Through this, I encountered ‘irfan’: a poetic and mystical way of knowing that sings the language of the Creator of all that is. A state close to nirvana. A meeting point between the divine realm and the groundlessness of being human.


Irfan is not a religion or a belief system. It is a way of knowing through lived experience. It is not learned through the mind, but remembered through the body, the heart, and the soul. It is the language of poetry, longing, and return where the human does not seek God as something separate, but recognizes the Divine moving within and through life itself. It lives in the space between the divine realm and the groundlessness of being human. It is the closest state of intimacy with God, not through belief, but through presence, feeling, and remembrance.

I am the woman.
 I am the co-creator.
 I am the divine energy.

Starting from honoring my mother, my bearer into this human form. She has embodied life with devotion, love, and quiet resilience. She who showered me with care as I grew into the woman I am today.
She who has slayed her shadows daily and continues to practice self-love, not as arrival, but as balance, in relationship with her most beloved creations: three daughters, a granddaughter, and soon a grandson.


I have carried her pain, my pain, and the pain of those who came before us.
The inherited pain of silence.
Of devotion expressed through becoming the pillar for male figures. 
Of placing the weight of families, systems, and expectations onto our own bodies. 
Of carrying love like a mountain, unquestioned, unshared, and surrendered to the illusive idea of what is deemed “right” by society, by our surroundings, and often by ourselves.
 We have carried them enough.

This distortion of womanhood does not exist in isolation, it shaped how pain, devotion, and union were taught across traditions. When feminine power is feared, it is often rewritten. When it cannot be erased, it is reframed.


One of the clearest examples of how womanhood has been distorted throughout history is Mary Magdalene.


Mary Magdalene was healed by Jesus of “seven demons” (Luke 8:2), a phrase that, in ancient language, referred to illness, trauma, grief, or spiritual distress. There is no mention of sexual sin. She financially supported Jesus’ ministry, did not abandon him at the crucifixion, and was the first witness of the resurrection, sent to tell the apostles, earning her the early title ‘Apostola Apostolorum’, Apostle to the Apostles.
In the Gospel of Mary (2nd century), she appears as a spiritual authority, a teacher of inner knowledge, whose insight threatened male disciples.


Mary Magdalene never self-identified through shame. That narrative was imposed later through medieval church art, poetry, and eventually modern culture. This was a projection, not her voice. A framing.
And we, as women, carry many such imposed shames. It is often through pain that we learn what needs care and attention in order to shed layers of conditioning and the thick, sticky disarming of our power, beliefs, and narratives around what it means to be a woman.


This is about containing feminine spiritual power, for women and men alike, for the unified “I”.
The unified ‘I’ in men and women who transcend all layers of noises and voices that do not belong them.
These distortions did not only shape how womanhood was seen. They shaped how pain, devotion, and endurance were taught.

Saint Joseph. A man who chose care over ego and held Saint Mary and her child. He who listened beyond the noise of a society eager to shame, discredit, and isolate. He who remained truthful to Mary when conformity would have been easier. Joseph did not dominate, correct, or abandon. He protected. He provided. He stood beside.
This is not submission but devotion without possession.


The masculine strength expressed as steadiness, responsibility, and quiet courage.
 This is the collaboration of woman and man.
 The unity of creation, held not through control or sacrifice, but through mutual trust, shared responsibility, and love in service of life itself.

Pain (a continuation from the previous chapter)


Pain is not denied across sacred traditions, it is named, witnessed, and transformed.


In the Bible, pain is held and redeemed.


In Buddhism, pain happens; suffering multiplies when the mind clings and resists.
 The Sallatha Sutta teaches of the first arrow (pain) and the second arrow (the suffering we add).


In Islam, pain may be trial and purification, a place to practice ‘sabr’ while trusting divine mercy: 
“With hardship comes ease.” (Qur’an 94:5–6)


In the Torah, pain is real, communal, embodied, and heard by God: 
“Many evils and troubles shall befall them…” (Deuteronomy 31:17)

No pain needs to be feared. Pain holds the answers, it reveals the truth that will liberate and empower.
Understanding alone does not heal. Integration happens through the body.

A small practice:

Find a position that doesn’t fight your body.

Unclench your jaw.

Drop your shoulders.

Take three slow breaths.

Pain is here.

I don’t need to pretend it isn’t.


I don’t need to punish myself for feeling it.


Locate the sensation (tightness, heat, stabbing, heaviness).


Now notice the mind’s additions: fear, future, identity, self-attack.


If you can, set the story down for one breath.

“Let this be one pain, not two.” -  Buddha

If you pray, pray now. If you don’t, ask life itself: 
“May I be guided. May I be held. May I be shown the next right step.”

Breathe into the edges of the pain, not the center.
 Make space around it.


If tears come, let them. If anger comes, let it be clean and honest.


What is the smallest next act of care or dignity I can give myself today? 
Water, rest, medicine, a boundary, a safe message, a walk, silence.


Hand on chest or belly: 
“I am allowed to be human. I am allowed to heal in steps.”

What has been separated in history now asks to be held together.

The Seven Archetypes of the Woman


Every woman carries all seven archetypes, not as roles, but as living frequencies:


The Maiden — emergence, curiosity, becoming


The Mother — creation, nourishment, fierce love


The Lover — embodiment, pleasure, connection


The Queen — sovereignty, boundaries, leadership


The Mystic — intuition, prayer, inner sight


The Healer — integration, compassion, restoration


The Crone — wisdom, truth, remembrance


Healing is not choosing one.
 Healing is allowing them to coexist.
 This remembrance lives in the body for men and women.
This remembrance does not end on the page. It continues through lived, embodied practice.

An invitation from the heart to the women in The High Healer’s circle:
I would like you to benefit from the recent work I have been curating with two wonderful creatrixes partners of mine. 
vulvA, a space devoted to women healing, embodiment, and feminine empowerment. A return to the body as an intelligent, sacred site of knowing. A place for women to shed shame, reclaim power, and remember who they are, together.


Follow vulvA for more healing, education, and embodied empowerment, created exclusively for women:

https://www.instagram.com/vulva.community


I would also like to offer you an insight to our recent webinar, where we uncovered shame and core desire. You can access the replay on this link: 
https://youtu.be/G7frxjgAPLU


If you would like the meditation/somatic work offered on this webinar please send me an email to [email protected] so I can share with you this powerful practice.


With Love and Light,


Danielle Daou


The High Healer