How Jerusalem On Fire Is Another Symbol Of The Repression Of The Feminine, Of Love

The Regenerative Power Of LOVE

I must say that a lot of these reflections are esoteric and a combination of information processed via my own filter. I’m doing my best for it not to be a political essay, but about LOVE and humanity in general. Love has no gender, and yet it is often placed in the box of “weakness” or “woowoo” or “fleur bleue,” or seen as the opposite of “pragmatic” or “scientific.”

For as long as I can remember, I’ve maintained a certain sense of unease when Gaza was mentioned, and that dates way before 2024.

I know this is all pretty heavy, and many people have told me to avoid talking about the subject because it creates division. But my last desire is to contribute to this division. In my mind, we are all humans. We ALL have a heart. We ALL deserve to feel love, to be loved, to be in love, to be loving, to act from love and for love. And so… this is about Love.

My brother’s friend from university is Palestinian, and although I was 14 at the time, I remember intriguingly asking questions about the place. Why is his family in perpetual danger? This is not about taking sides. This is about clarifying my own lens on a situation.

I also remembered my first ever history class, aged 6, how Mesopotamia is the cradle of our civilisation. Not overlapping, but not far. And the fact that this region is a danger zone right now tells me our civilization is not in great shape. Again, I’m not politicising, just making rather candid observations.

When the genocide began in January 2024, I remember feeling hopeless, powerless, not knowing what to do, not wanting to ignore what was happening whilst also realising my somewhat limited human scale.

I created 5MIN4LOVE with the view of creating a collective pulse of love, to activate more love into our lives, to remind myself and as many people as possible that the heart can be a great place to make decisions from, that in fact we need the heart to make a decision and the mind to draft the blueprint.

Because it isn’t just about marching in the streets and sharing our rage (although mobilisation does help to create change and rage can be beautifully alchemised into projects that drive further change), but it’s also about creating the change within.

If colonisations, wars, invasions of all forms have happened over centuries, it’s because there’s something inside of us that desires to possess. And that is the result of deciding and defending from a place of ego, scarcity, and competition. Treating hurt with hurt, justifying one’s act of hatred by another, and responding with another.

Something doesn’t feel right in this sequence.

As we see the world as our mirror, it makes even less sense. Why would I be hurting someone who is just the reflection of who I am myself?

There is no other. There is US. Regardless of our religion, background, nationality, or where we’re born. We’re all one collective.

And yet, we are so attached to what makes us different, unique — myself included. But personally, I don’t choose to use this difference to hurt another. And that’s just me. I don’t expect the world to behave this way, but I do feel the more I embody compassion, the more I’m sending this message, this pattern into the world.

So,… Jerusalem.

In 950 BC King Solomon created a temple, said to be a dwelling place of “God on Earth.” The sigil that represents the temple is the two triangles (one upwards, one downwards) superimposed. It is said to represent the union of heaven and earth.

The temple was destroyed by the Babylonians in 590 BC, and after their defeat against the Persians, in 516 BC a second temple was built over it, which was then destroyed in 70 CE.

For thousands of years, this place, the Temple Mount, has been both the meeting point of three religions — Christianity, Judaism, and Islam — and has remained a point of conflict and devotion.

Mystics speak of a hidden chamber beneath the Temple Mount. One that holds the codes of creation, the repressed divine feminine, or perhaps simply, the memory of love. But we know how life is created, at least we understand the biology of conception. The chances that come into play in the miracle of life are less known and controlled.

To me it feels very interesting that Jerusalem, once called the city of Venus, represents the feminine within each and every one of us. The hyper-capitalist world has cast the feminine into shadow, associating stillness, softness, and slowness with weakness. And in general, we don’t want to familiarise ourselves with these states, out of fear of getting lost there, of missing out on the linear worldly action.

Interestingly, the one thing that could change the space/time equilibrium in quantum mechanics is a black hole or a “negative mass,” which is impossible to reproduce on Earth. But what if it was, simply by pausing? By observing? By being? Even for a moment, observing the glue that connects us all, the life thread that is weaving the constant transformation that takes place around us?

The feminine…

The intuitive, connected to the Earth’s cycle, the observing part of us has been repressed too, for thousands of years. The Romans brought with them the nymphs, beautiful little things that wear light clothing and are here to please the masculine warrior and gladiator.

Women were warriors and conquerors before. They were priestesses before the first priests were consecrated.

They knew the temple arts, the medicine of plants, and how to accompany people through the journey to the afterlife, to return to the world, choosing life. Because although it is a sweet resting place, we all have a part to play here.

The feminine is not passive. It is powerful in its receptivity — sovereign, intuitive, generative.

And yet we have repressed it so much. I still have friends around me who state that by now “women don’t have any more battles.” But until I can walk this Earth naked without risking my body being sexualised, no, I don’t believe I have won. Until I see all of my nearest most talented friends taking up the space they deserve, to empower one another and restore harmony with nature and the world, no, I will not rest. Until I witness a woman who is pregnant be able to decide whether the child she carries is for her to keep or not in every single country of the world, no, I will not take this for granted.

It is not about fighting against “the other.” I am not condoning anyone’s actions by stating the above. I believe that what I am defending is the right to return to love.

This seems so clear to me, and yet it feels so complex to explain.

But when will we live in a world where the response to “you hurt me” isn’t “now I hurt you back”?

And instead it becomes: how do we create a world where nothing justifies someone hurting another?

How do we revive the feminine within us, who truly wants to love, nourish, move with the rhythms of the earth, create, collaborate, exchange, give generously, exist without expected outcomes of production? How do we release control from a handful of few to the many, with the right education and awareness to ensure that whatever level we are acting from, we’re acting from love?

How do we return to love?

I feel this deeply. I don’t know how to fix it all. But I know love is the only place I can start from.

And I know myself is the only place I truly have agency over.

And so, how do I cultivate this inner temple where the masculine and feminine can both be embodied in a sacred way?