When the Masculine Rests, the Feminine Rises

Six days into our Bali trip, we made the journey to Ubud. First stop: a sacred water temple for a traditional blessing.

Guided through meditation, prayer, and offerings to various gods and goddesses; we were invited to stand beneath a series of waterfalls, allowing them to pour over us. It was a profound experience—one that felt nearly impossible to put into words.

Afterward, I noticed my left ear felt muffled and clogged. It didn’t hurt—just felt blocked, as if something wasn’t quite getting through. The next morning, it still hadn’t cleared.

We made our way to a yoga class at The Yoga Barn called Embodiment Yoga. It was unlike any class I’d ever taken. The teacher offered guidance, but encouraged us to make it our own: lie in savasana the entire time, journal in the middle, ignore the poses entirely if we wanted. Flow without force. No pressure to “do it right.” Just listen in.

I followed the sequence for about an hour. Then he guided us into Warrior II, left leg forward, right arm extended upward and open.

“This is your masculine side,” he said.

“The sun rules this side. What is your masculine energy telling you?

How does it feel? What does it need?”

Then we switched sides—right leg forward, left arm and chest lifting.

“Your feminine side.

What is she asking for? What does she need?”

I dropped to my knees, reached for my journal, and let the words come through:

“Oh hey masculine—thank you for everything you do for me.

I’m going to let you rest for a while. Please stay with me…

but take a breather. Let go. Let go.”

And that’s when it clicked.

My left ear—the feminine side—had been asking me to listen. To receive. It wasn’t clogged randomly. It was dormant. Waiting. Asking me to tap into that quiet, flowing current of the feminine. To trust that more deeply than the nonstop go-go-go of the masculine energy I had been operating in for months.

That afternoon, while walking through a shop in Ubud, I came face-to-face with a Buddha statue. This particular Buddha was resting his right ear on his right knee and hand—his masculine side literally taking a pause.

I brought him home with me. A reminder:

My masculine side needs rest.

I need rest.

To be still. To settle. To just be for a while.

And wouldn’t you know it? The next morning, my ear was completely clear.

Was it coincidence? Maybe. But I like to believe it was a message from my body. A sacred nudge.

So I listened.

Back home, I made space to do less.

I read books (real ones—not just scrolls and screens).

I stepped away from TV and the computer.

I ate nourishing meals.

I allowed myself to receive help from my family.

I said no to extra plans.

I made time to be still.

And after a month of choosing to listen and soften, this is what I noticed:

• A surge of creativity

• Clearer intuition

• More mindful movement

• A renewed sense of self-worth and confidence

• Deeper connection with my family

• A calmer nervous system

• Better sleep

• A lower average heart rate, according to my Oura ring

It’s not to say I can keep up this rhythm once school and work ramp up again—but it’s something I’ll strive to weave into my days.

Because when the masculine rests,

the feminine rises.

And when we give ourselves permission to slow down and truly listen,

the wisdom comes rushing in.