The Great Unbecoming

I feel as if the world is in a state of transformation. Global pandemic feels like a symptom of the rising perception of separateness over the past many years. Countries (including my own) that I once admired for what I imagined to be inclusiveness, being so called melting pots of many beautiful and rich cultures, somehow accepted exclusion. They allowed fear and greed to close their borders to people of certain religions or skin tones, and locked children in cages. They voted everyone off the island, so they could have it to themselves. With every news story over the last four years, many of us have asked, “What have we become?”

When forced to go within, as we have all been asked to shelter-in-place for the mercy of our healthcare workers and community members who are at greatest risk, life has become quiet enough to hear the cries of the oppressed. That’s why the world showed up for the murder of George Floyd. They were less distracted by the incessant busy-ness of the world. We have all heard the reports of black people dying in police custody for decades and brown people being caged at our borders, but it was too easy to look away, toward board meetings and soccer matches, and the mind-numbing endeavor to do more, have more, be more. It makes me wonder if this is when we get to ask, “What are we unbecoming?”

I have such curiosity about the emptiness one must feel to insist on spending their lives working so hard to ensure they can buy more things, at the detriment of others, who would be grateful just to have enough food to fill their bellies. Hoarding newspapers and hoarding dollars are really no different, they are both symbolic of filling a hole. When people who don’t pay their fair share of taxes have more money than one can spend in a lifetime (or many lifetimes), while other humans are becoming homeless because they cannot pay their medical bills, we are witnessing crimes against humanity.

To be honest, I can relate to a time in my life when my rising income felt like an affirmation of my worth. It actually wasn’t that long ago. When I left the corporate world and chose to live more simply and care for my aging parents, it took some time to move through the fear of less. This choice has made my life look very small from the outside. I am more mindful of how I spend my savings, and I no longer live beyond my means.

In the process of unbecoming who I thought the world expected me to be, I discovered the rich beauty of who I already am. My income does not define my worthiness of love, it is the actions of my heart that does so. From the inside, my life looks vast and expansive.

When the shutdown for Covid-19 started, I felt a sense of excitement alongside feelings of dread. I imagined that when other people had the opportunity (even when not by choice) to make their worlds small, they might choose to go within. I hoped that they would find the beauty of simplicity, and that even without the ability to dine out daily, and to show the world how worthy they are to be loved, by the cost of the car they drive or the overpriced iProducts they carry, they might realize that life is incredibly beautiful and that being in caring community is an enormous blessing. (This lesson did not arrive for me, until the pandemic insisted that my neighbors stay at home. Most of us have been on this block for 20 years or more, and we are just now learning each others’ names.)

And I do believe that is happening for some, at least in my virtual circles. But what is also happening, as I live in a state that opened too soon and is now seeing a distressing rise in Covid infections, is that living simply and making life small was too uncomfortable for many. The truth had become impossible to believe, and so they imagined themselves immune without regard for those who might not survive their contamination.

I’ve heard some of those people say that they refuse to live in fear, and therefore will not wear a mask, and they will not stop living the life to which they feel entitled. But I wonder what is lost in that inability to place the concern for others above their own perceived pleasure.

I would argue, based on my own life experience, that fear enters our lives to alert us that it is time for change. When I have felt most unsafe and most fearful, or rather when I was on the other side of fear – looking back, I realized that the fear was announcing that great, life-altering transformation was near. I learned that I could see the fear rise, and hold it close, then comfort it and wait patiently for new beginnings to arrive.

It reminds me of being present for the births of three of my goddess daughters. Each time, when their courageous mother, who had chosen natural childbirth, announced in panic that she “could not do this”, her body was telling us that the girls were about to leave the darkness of the womb to be welcomed into the light. I know that those moments felt frightening, but there was no going back, it was too late for numbing medication, and there was untold, remarkable beauty about to be birthed. That beauty, born through fear, made our lives and the world a better and brighter place to live.

We do have a sense that things will get harder and that darkness will grow. Covid-19 continues to surge in America, and it is rising elsewhere. The toll on world economy will surely be overwhelming and deeply unsettling. I have no doubt that fear will be seeded in the hearts of many.

But what I hope will also happen is that the light of truth will rise even higher and shine even brighter. As sacred souls go within for reflection, they will discover what is truly important (that things are not among them) – their health and wellness is important, as is the health and wellness of every being upon the earth, as is Mother Earth Herself.

I hope we can all see that it is not what we’ve accomplished, or what we drive, or where we live, or how we travel that makes us worthy of being loved, but our very existence that makes us so.

I hope that on the other side of fear, a new world is brought to birth, and that we will look back on this pandemic and social justice uprising as labor pains that brought into the world the beauty of humanity, humility, equity, and peace.

May we hold space for this better future without expectation of timing.
Let us commit to doing the labor without looking away or going numb.

May it be so. So mote it be. Blessed be. Amen.
Thank you for walking this path with me. I love you more.

We Are Grey

 I’m about to share a quote from a tv show that aired a quarter of a century ago, but I hope you’ll bear with me. I’ve been hearing it in my head for some time now, so I know there must be a reason. I mean… I can’t remember what I watched or heard yesterday, and yet… these words remain etched in memory.

“I am Grey. I stand between the candle and the star. We are GreyWe stand between the darkness and the light.” ~ J Michael Straczynski (1994)

This line has been rising into my mind with growing frequency. It is from the SciFi series from the mid-1990s, called “Babylon 5”. Joe Straczynski has said that the entire five-year story arch manifested in his mind one day, while taking a shower.

There is so much goodness to be gathered from this series, but what feels especially poignant at this moment in history is when darkness threatened to swallow the Universe, an alliance was forged to nurture a path of peace that would lead them all back into the light.

The character of Ambassador Delenn was always my favorite. She is seen in the video above, breaking the Grey Council, which was made up of representatives from each caste from her planet. She will later, after enormous sacrifice, rebuild the council with greater fairness. But long before this scene, at the end of the first season, without understanding what was to come, Delenn goes into a Chrysalis and in Season 2 emerges transformed. Ultimately, she becomes a bridge between the human race and her own. She changes in appearance, and she also endeavors to gain an understanding of who humans are and to teach humans more about her own race.

It may be difficult to figure out where I’m going with this… but there is a bridge. I have been learning how to become an antiracist. When I reached out to my friend, when the protests began to insist on justice for the murder of George Floyd, she asked me not to be silent. She and I had been together a couple of years earlier, when I was confronted with my own white privilege, as a woman threatened to call the police because my friend would not give her her designer purse. I wrote about it in my blog post called The Light That Pierces Shadow. I had been so nervous about getting it wrong. I knew that I had a lot to learn about being an ally, and the last thing I wanted was to cause more harm. But she trusted me to get it right.

I’ve only just begun to read Ibram X. Kendi’s book How To Be An Antiracist, and already I can feel the importance and the truth of it. He opens by sharing a speech he gave in his youth, and then unpacks it from his current vantage point. He acknowledges that his words at that time were colored by “internalized racism”.

I recently learned the term ‘internalized patriarchy’ during Heather Plett’s Holding Space course, as we explored holding space for ourselves. And it felt like being struck by lightning to understand that my own self-limiting beliefs and self-loathing (which I’ve spent most of my life trying to overcome) were symptoms of societal indoctrination. We have been taught, unknowingly (or not) the patriarchal view of what girls and women, boys and men should be, and how they should behave, and how they should serve… none of which have anything to do with nurturing and celebrating their unique strengths and authenticity. Realizing that women have a numbers advantage on men in the world, and yet there are so few women in American government leadership roles became a punch in the gut, because of course that means that women are not voting for women. This must mean that there are a lot of women out there who believe themselves and other women to be inferior to men.

So, when Dr. Kendi, confesses to feeling pain and shame around his own beliefs expressed in his high school speech, having been tarnished by systemic racism, it eases my own guilt and shame when I ask myself why it has taken me so long to do this important work. When I realize that by internalizing patriarchal dogma, I have oppressed myself, it allows me to relate to those whose lives are directly impacted by white supremacy (even though I can never know how it feels to be black or brown). What I can know and understand is that it is never too late for any of us to rise into the light of truth, and change our programming.

When my friend asked me not to be silent, she also asked me, “Why do they hate us?” The answer that arrived was basic psychology. What bothers us about others is often a reflection of ourselves.

How heartbreaking it is to witness such hatred and to realize that those capable of such belief and behavior must truly loathe themselves in order to view any being in such a dehumanized way. The malignant system that has been in place since my friend’s ancestors were stolen from their homeland, has programmed people to fear what they imagine to be different. I have no doubt that the true fear is based in the belief that if white people become the minority (which will happen), they might be treated the way they have treated others.

In my eyes, the best way to avoid that outcome would be to start treating others with equity, fairness, and loving kindness. We don’t have to believe and behave the way our ancestors did. They were lied to, as well. If we feel defensive when we are confronted with these difficult questions about how we are affected by racism and how our words and behaviors affect others, that is likely the rise of shame within. Shame is the most destructive emotion there is, so the best way to face it when it appears, is not to shake a finger at it, but to hold it close and to love it back into a place of forgiveness and compassion. Then, keep going.

Maybe these immortal words of a beloved Science Fiction writer have surfaced to invite me to stand with the discomfort of this evolutionary and revolutionary moment – in the in-between of our unbecoming and our becoming. If the black crayon and the white crayon make the color grey when combined, perhaps the message and metaphor is that we are all ‘grey’ on the inside. As Jane Elliott says, “There is only one race – the human race.”

I am Grey. I stand before the racist structure to which I have been ignorant and complicit, and aim my intentions toward supporting the creation of a foundation for justice and equity. We are Grey. We stand before false beliefs about ourselves and others and reveal the truth of our oneness. I am Grey. I shed the shame and insecurity that once kept me in silence. We are Grey. We don the robes of forgiveness, understanding, and new beginnings.

Now is the time to break the scepter of white supremacy, take the time to unpack everything within us that was planted with poison and toss it onto the burn pile, and then reconvene to form a more perfect Union.

I saw this statement on a sign at one of the Black Lives Matter protests, and it moved me deeply. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had a lot to learn.” I am still learning, and really, I suppose I am actually UNLEARNING. I am unpacking everything this society has taught me, and I am deciding what needs to go.

If I got anything wrong in this post, I hope you will forgive me. I promise not to be silent. I promise not to give up on myself, for I know I can do better… and change must begin with each of us going into our own chrysalis of reflection, so that we may be transformed.

When we emerge into the light of love, our new perspective will deliver us into a new world. Thank you for walking this path with me. I love you more.

Solar Salutations

Today is the Summer Solstice. Opposite that which marks midwinter in the southern hemisphere… it is the longest day.  It is also referred to as midsummer – think Shakespeare and a playful band of faeries.  When we look at the wheel of the year from a symbolic perspective, from where we started to where we are headed… this is the halfway point of our manifestation.  We planted our seeds at Imbolc in February, saw the early sprouting of our desires in March at the Spring Equinox, consecrated our passion in May at Beltaine, and now we are seeing our intentions beginning to bear fruit.

Well… this is a rather unusual year, as you know. My Sacred Gardeners and I gathered to plant our seeds of intention in February. We would have met again to nurture those intentions in March, but alas… the world went into quarantine. So, we adjusted the light and shade to nurture our seeds in a virtual setting, instead.

The sun is at its height on this day, so it is a great time for healing.  Be sure to take a walk in nature and soak up some vitamin D.  Goodness knows that the road ahead is long and bumpy, and our best defense against this virus is to build our immune systems for better health and if infected, a better chance of full recovery.

From this day forward, the days will begin to grow shorter, as we slowly turn toward the Autumn Equinox.  The energy of the sun is expansive, so consider in what areas of your life you’d like to shed a bit more light.  Does your soul require a bit of rest while reading a good book at the edge of the ocean, or would it be best served by playfully flying a kite in a grassy, green field of freedom and delight? The sun reminds us to shine brightly!  If you’ve been taking care of everyone else throughout the first half of the year, remember to care for the caregiver, and practice extreme self-care.  You deserve your own love more than anyone! 

Speaking of A Midsummer Night’s Dream… I am reminded of the year that my Tribe (goddess group) decided to celebrate the day with the faeries in a local park we call the ravine.  It is a lovely surprise near downtown that you can walk down into, and find yourself surrounded by azalea bushes and oak trees.  We figured that we would gather there at twilight to leave offerings, and see if anyone would come out to play with us.  Alas, it was only the local police that showed up, but they were not playful AT ALL!  Ha!  So… we left behind our offerings of flowers and berries, and had to wait for the faeries to find us in our dreams.

The following is a meditation that came through me when I put my fingers to the keyboard and asked for a vision of Midsummer to go with an image that crossed my screen from an art page on social media. The words just flowed through me and onto the page without much thought or direction. At one point, when the purpose of the journey was revealed to me, I literally gasped aloud. It was a moment of pure magick I hope I will never forget.

It is printed below, and you can also listen to it by clicking on the YouTube link. Keep in mind that I am self taught in all things technical.
https://youtu.be/Jf9z1xL6hgs

MIDSUMMER MEDITATION

Close your eyes, adjust to your comfort, and breathe deeply. 

Find yourself in an open field of the softest green grass on the edge of twilight.  The air is warm, and filled with the scent of sweet grass, and fireflies hover and dance.  It’s as if the stars that will later shine in the night sky, are temporarily twinkling upon the earth.  A gentle breeze caresses your skin and plays with your hair.  In the distance, you can see a stand of old trees, and you feel called to seek their shelter.  

As you leisurely stroll through field and green, take notice of what you see here.  Someone may appear to join you on your stroll… maybe a spirit animal, or guide.  Each step brings you closer to the wooded edge of the field.  As you come into close proximity, an opening or archway created by the bend and limbs of trees informs you of the entrance, and dancing in the middle of that arch is a glowing light. 

You assume it is a firefly, though its glow has a slightly different hue. It beckons you to follow, and you comply.  You step into the woods, and find the light here to be dim, but plenty for navigating safely.  The tiny ball of light is ahead of you, dancing and bobbing, guiding you forward.  There is nothing to fear here, as you feel guided and protected on this mysterious journey.

Now, you begin to see a brighter glow ahead.  The light is drawing you to a giant, ancient tree in the center of the wood.  It is illuminated from within, as if there are windows along every level of its height, emanating a blue-white luminescence.  You are led to the base of this magickal tree, and onto the staircase that spirals upward around its trunk. 

Following the orb, with grace and ease, you move up one flight of stairs, turning clockwise around the trunk… you move up a second flight of stairs, around the luscious curve of sparkly bark… you move up a third flight of stairs, catching hints of lavender and jasmine on your breath… you move up a fourth flight of stairs, feeling a sense of longing in your solar plexus… you move up a fifth flight of stairs. 

Though there is still more tree above and steps to climb, this is where the guiding light has stopped.  From here, you have an incredible vantage for viewing the mystical wood that surrounds, and you can see all sorts of woodland creatures.  On the ground there are deer and 7-tined stags, rabbits and hedgehogs.  In the branches of the surrounding trees there are raccoons, birds of many colors and songs, and squirrels. 

As you turn back to face your glowing guide, you gasp in wonder to see that the tiny ball of light has transformed into a stunningly beautiful woman with wings.  Take a moment to gather her features, for the Queen of the Faeries looks different to each of us.  Breathe in the radiance of her skin, the shimmering colors of her dress, the shape and sheen of her wings, and the warmth of love on her face… as she gazes adoringly into your eyes.

She brought you here to offer you words you’ve been longing to hear, a message of comfort, reassurance, healing, and hope.  Listen for the words she is gifting you, as she leans in to whisper, like a lullaby, into your ears and open mind.  (long pause)

Message received, you look up into her eyes, and find that her words were so loving, so sincere, that a single tear is sliding down her cheek.  It sparkles with the same luminescence that surrounds, and she plucks it from her cheek… the crystalline gem the size of a seed. 

Reaching out to you, she takes this faery seed, now glowing green, and plants it inside your heart chakra.  The glow radiates from your chest, and slowly turns from a deep shade of emerald green to a lighter shade, and then… into a pale pink, the color of rose quartz.  The glow of this gift, now deeply planted inside your being, expands to light and warm your entire body.  You are filled and overflowing with a sense of love that you once knew, but had forgotten.  This is divine love, complete love, unconditional love… and it is ALL yours.  It is ALL YOU! 

You ARE divine love.  You were never separate from it, the mundane world just got in the way and disconnected it from your knowing.  But now it is back, and no one can take it from you.  You did this work, you followed your intuition and your guides, you climbed the steps with focus and determination, and you stood with reverence and awe as your own light was reflected back at you. 

Yes, that’s right… the light you followed was your own north star.  The image that looked back at you was the embodiment of your own heart.  The wisdom you received was from your own higher self.  You were never alone, and you have never… not for one moment… been unworthy of love.  YOU. ARE. LOVE! 

Knowing that your purpose here in this magickal place has been fulfilled, you hug your heart… your own true faery queen, and turn to descend.  Though the sky above is now only lit by stars, you have no need for a guiding light, for you are illuminated by the pink glow of your own self-love. 

It is so radiant and infectious that the woodland creatures that witness your journey downward watch with fascination and awe.  Slowly you make your way down the fifth flight of stairs… counter-clockwise you spiral – down the fourth flight of stairs… extending your own light as a glowing egg of protection – down the third flight of stairs… remembering the message you received – down the second flight of stairs… knowing that this sacred light you carry will heal and lighten the hearts of those you love – you descend the first flight of stairs to forest floor. 

Feeling joyful and lighter than ever, you practically float out of the ancient wood… glancing back at the iridescent faery tree, you carry forth gratitude – knowing that anytime your light feels dim, you can return to this sacred place to be refilled.  Feeling clarity like never before, you step into the open field and bathe in milky white light of the moon and one last time, breathe in the sparkly white light of the stars.  Every cell of your body is filled with this sparkly white light, and you feel amazing… as you… open your eyes.

Thank you for walking this path with me.
I am grateful for your warmth and light.

Feeling Seen and Heard

I’ve been finding it difficult to enjoy movie and television entertainment lately. Real life is difficult and complicated right now, and if I am going to turn on the television seeking entertainment, I don’t want it to make me feel worse… I want it to make me feel better. I often start something and turn it off if it cannot ‘take me away’ within the first few minutes. Life is short, maybe even shorter with the threat of a deadly virus lurking nearby, and I don’t want to waste time on anything that does not endeavor to help me grow or fill me up.

I quit cable television 15 years ago, and I have never missed it. Before streaming channels became a thing, I only watched DVDs, and now I have a ROKU device that offers channels of my choosing. But I find myself finding nothing worth watching these days, and so I land on YouTube. There, you can find programs that last 15 minutes to two hours. There are documentaries, clips from programming on topics of concern (like How to be Anti-Racist and White Fragility), and there are TEDTalks, too.

Last night, I happened upon this ‘talk’ by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. He’s an American actor, but also a collaborative creator. He and his brother started a fabulous center for creative minded people from all over the world to connect and contribute online, called Hit REcord. It is enormously uplifting to witness the work that comes to life when nurtured by such crafty folks. It is surely the inspiration that paved the way for what I call ‘Covid Creativity’, as musicians and singers come together through Zoom to perform for our entertainment while remaining safely at home.

In this TEDtalk, Joe asks [paraphrasing]: “How does a social media platform make money? It is selling the attention of its users to advertisers.” He says that, “We become addicted to the power of getting attention.” He goes further to remind us that when we are less distracted, we are able to ‘be in the flow’, which nurtures and expands our creativity. This is a pretty vague summary, so I hope you’ll watch it and see what rises for you, but here’s what it sparked for me.

I am taking time away from social media during Mercury Retrograde, because my addiction to the attention I give and receive on that platform distracts from my ability to be ‘in the flow’.

I referred above to leaving cable television behind in 2005. What was a surprise to me, at that time, was that I found myself finally grieving my relationship which had ended FOUR YEARS before. I recognized that I had been numbing myself with visual noise. Now, just about 36-hours into my FB-fast, I am already finding ‘the flow’. I still hear and feel the chaos of construction in my side-yard, but if I focus on my words, I can move the noise to my side-mind. I’ll be relieved when they are through. Even the sound of unhindered traffic moving will be soothing when the crash of dump truck gates has moved on.

The other thing that Joe brought to mind is the question of why I write. Am I just seeking attention? Am I validated by the number of readers who show up in my blog stats, or how many likes I get on a FB post?

I think that once upon a time, my answer might have been, yes. But I’m not so sure now. I think that what I am seeking by writing is connection. First and foremost, I am seeking connection with myself and my authentic truth. Next, I am seeking connection with those of like-mind. The world is vast, but what I know for sure is that in every corner of the world, there are people who resonate with each of us in a way that delivers a sense of belonging. Whether it is because we share a history of self-loathing with a desire to feel like we are enough, or because we care deeply about the heartbreaking destruction of our planet and about protecting the lives of those oppressed by systemic racism.

About 20 years ago, my Mom was asked to speak during a church service on the topic of her connection with nature. There was one line that failed to fall through the swiss cheese holes of my mind after all of these years. It was a quote from Konrad Lorenz from his lifelong study of the Behavior of the Greylag Goose. His book published in 1988 was titled, “Here Am I — Where Are You?” And these words resonate with me when I ask myself why I write. My purpose is not to seek attention or validation, but to let you know that I am here, and I desire to know that you are here, too. I wish to offer up the truth of my soul, as I discover it, and long to hear the truth of yours. I suspect that what we all hope for in the pilgrimage of purpose is to feel as if we have been seen and heard, before we cease to exist.

Here’s a video I found about Konrad Lorenz’s work, if you are interested.

On last night’s weekly video conference, my friends and I discussed the consequences of despair and hopelessness. What happens in circle stays in circle, but I will share with you a thought I had while holding space for this topic. We are aware of overwhelming sorrow in the world right now, as we face the fear of economic and health uncertainty. Someday, we will learn of the true number of souls who chose to move on, rather than to stick around to see how this pandemic pans out. As an empath, I feel this truth in my body. Since March, I have often experienced symptoms of pain and pressure in my chest that have made me worry that I might be ‘carrying the corona’. I got a clean bill of health in February with my annual exams and I have practiced extreme caution, so I am certain that what I am feeling is 1) allergy related – because I live in Florida where something is always in bloom, 2) psychosomatic responses to the news of escalating outbreaks, and/or 3) the suffering of others felt through my innate strength of physical and emotional empathy.

Even with all of that awareness, I still experience moments of despair and hopelessness. Knowing that this virus will take a long time to figure out, I recognize that my state of aloneness will not change for the foreseeable future. My longing for being hugged and held cannot be fulfilled as long as the threat of breathing the same air as another can endanger the lives of my parents. Not to mention that being over 50 and overweight puts me into the potential death category, alongside the two sacred beings that I care for daily.

As I explore this particular ‘truth of my soul’, I can only acknowledge that I know I am not alone in walking with this shadow of doubt. And the message that arrives to greet my reach is this:

This is temporary. Our world has long been shrouded in the darkness of uncertainty (even when some of us were oblivious), and when shadows have been revealed, we’ve learned to shine our light even brighter to discover a deeper truth. Light is returning and shadows will recede. This exile will one day be a distant memory, through which we will have grown into deeper and stronger beings.

Until it is safe to be hugged and held by another, you will be held in the light of love as you are seen and heard by those whose hearts are called to this sacred space. All are welcome!

Thank you for walking this path with me. I see you. I hear you. I am holding you close through the darkness and all the way back into the light. I love you more.


If you are in the US, and are feeling hopeless and alone, please consider calling SAMHSA’s National Helpline at 800.662.4357. There is someone available 24/7 to provide confidential guidance and support.

Retrograde Restoration

Today is the beginning of Mercury Retrograde. This occurs about three times a year. It is an astrological event, simply explained, when it ‘appears’ that the planet Mercury is moving backwards in the sky. Of course, it isn’t really going backwards, it is just a science and math thing that I’m not going to pretend to understand or explain. But, if you’re inclined to relate to our relationship with the other celestial bodies in our universe, you might take note of how this particular planet is said to rub our energetic being. Below is an article about the current astrology.

https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2020/06/9869190/mercury-retrograde-june-2020-meaning-effects

Mercury is the planet of thought and communication, so when it is retrograde, we can experience a surge in misunderstandings and other complications. Sometimes it is a relief to have this planetary scapegoat to explain why things feel really hard. But some of the best advice I’ve seen is to consider what not to do vs. how to best use this time. For example, do NOT sign any contracts or start new relationships in Mercury Retrograde, for the final outcome may not be as you had hoped. But it is a great time to do ‘RE’ things, like reflecting, reviewing, realigning, reassessing, and reconstructing, just to name a few retro-actions.

I have chosen RESTORATION as my verb for this particular moment in time, and the first action I’ve taken is to REMOVE myself from social media. This is no small effort for an extrovert with ‘connectedness’ in her top 5 strengths during self-exile in a global pandemic. I’m only five waking hours into a three week fast, and I can already feel the absence of the many like-minded friends who have nurtured my hyper-focus on seeking truth, understanding, and revolution (another great ‘RE’ thing) during extraordinary times. (I often think of that curse that is worded like a blessing, these days… “May you live in interesting times.”)

My intention, from June 18 through July 12, is not to stop caring about the importance of current affairs, but to RETURN myself to the center of my world, REFINE the manner in which I initiate self-care, and REESTABLISH a relationship with my creative nature, which is most easily REFLECTED through my writing.

My blog marked its second anniversary at the end of May, and I realized that while I averaged six posts per month for the first year and a half, I’ve only managed to write six posts in 2020. I’ve been working on one blog post since March, and I can usually get that done in two hours.

I’ve speculated about what has happened to my inner-scribe this year. It feels multi-tiered. One thing is that empathy is my number one strength, and the world is suffering on a global level. (I have literally found it hard to breathe, at times.)

Another probable cause is the construction that has been going on in my side yard since January. There have been days when my body felt it would crumble from the trauma of earth shattering pounding of pylons that rocked my tiny home, and on other days, it feels as if I’ve put a quarter in the bedpost, as the whole house trembles with vibration.

Another layer was my focus on learning how to Hold Space through complexity, which morphed into actually living with complexity, as the country shut down and then tragically reopened while people are still infecting each other and thousands are dying from Covid-19. And while we were looking for something to do with our downtime, we witnessed a murder that shook the world, not unlike my tiny house has been shaken by large equipment of destruction and replacement.

And I’ve just stumbled upon another metaphor for what is happening in the world to accompany the multi-year, multi-million dollar project to improve the main highway that runs through our community. They are taking away old structures that no longer serve us, and replacing them with something better. It is disruptive. It is inconvenient. It is sometimes painful. But it is absolutely worth doing the hard work.

So, here I go. I will continue the hard work of dismantling racism and demolishing the patriarchy, while keeping my parents safe from this virus, but I will start by RECOMMITTING to my own mental and physical wellness. I can see the enormous importance of this moment in our shared history, and I know that we all have a significant role to play in RE-IMAGINING a better future for the greater good of ALL. I also know that I will be stronger if I take the time to REFORTIFY my body, mind, and spirit by providing the nurturing and care that I freely offer others.

I don’t know what the days ahead will hold for me, but I will gladly share my REFLECTIONS, as I allow the universe to REVEAL itself to me – as it always does – in divine timing.

May you find many blessings woven through this Mercury Retrograde. May you find RENEWAL, REJUVENATION, and a REFRESHING new outlook on the other side. Thank you for walking this path with me. I am grateful that you are here.

Global Fam-demic

I wonder what beauty you may be finding during these difficult days.

For me, life is not much different. I had already made my world very small, by choosing to live simply, while serving my parents. The biggest change for us, is that I now do all of the shopping, with great care and more frequent hand-washing.

There has, of course, been great loss… in the form of up-close connectedness. I miss hugs more than anything on this planet, and what I know for sure, is that it is the one thing I will miss when my body is done and my spirit moves on.

But there have been many extraordinary developments that add light to this shadow. For these gifts, I am grateful.

If I start with what is really close to home, it would be a continued growing affection between my parents and myself. Our commitment and care for the wellness of one another is now our primary focus. There are few distractions from this imperative intention. We are not ready to lose each other, therefore, we will continue to do whatever science and healthcare leaders recommend to keep ourselves safe and well. And we will also do it to help keep others well.

To open the circle a little wider to our surroundings, there is the delight of getting to know my neighbors. I’ve lived in this house for nearly 25 years, and because we were all working outside of the home, there has been little to no interaction. We might know we had neighbors simply by the presence or absence of a car in the driveway, noticed in passing.

I’ve been around full-time for a couple of years, but now that they are home, as well… we are not just waving as we pass, we are stopping to say hello and check on our mutual emotional well-being. And we are eager to offer kindness, in the form of a text to say one of us is going to the store – is there anything you need?

The other day, the guy across the street noticed tree branches brushing my roof, and offered to cut them back. He even took the cuttings to the curb, and blew away the leaves that had gathered. I thanked him with a gift-card and two pints of his favorite ice cream, and he gave me a bag of avocados he’d picked up in plenty from a nearby store. Seriously, anyone would be blessed to have a neighbor like mine. He once witnessed a fallen tree branch hit my roof in a rainstorm, and climbed up before I got home, to be sure there was no damage or to secure a tarp for protection.

Then there’s the lady who was out one day, as I walked up to my folks’ house, who had been here for 29 years – and I’d never seen her once. She started watching for me, and stepping outside to take a walk with me. Yesterday, she texted and said… “I know you can’t walk tonight, but I got you something, and I can’t wait to give it to you.” It was a few minutes before my online meditation group gathering, but I met her half-way. I opened it late last night, and then used the illumination of this warmly given flashlight, as I made my way back up the street for bedtime ritual with Mom and Dad.

I learned that she worked for our local grocery store for 30 years, and that on Monday, she is having her port removed, because she has defeated cancer. So glad that she will now have another neighbor cheering her on.

Then there’s the neighbor across the street, who is there because I begged the homeowner to let me pick his next renter. He is in his 70s and on furlough (because for many, social security is not enough to live on). He has not been able to file for unemployment in the last nine weeks, because we are in Florida, and the Governor who created the system is a criminal. The other day, I asked my lawn guys if they could cut his lawn, and today, I helped him to file for the benefits he needs and deserves.

Expanding my reach even more, there are the circles of friends whose hugs I dearly miss. Some of us would have been seeing each other every 8 weeks in my workshops for mindfulness and creativity. I remember asking them if they would be interested in meeting more often this year (imagining a small gathering in my home, as needed), and now that we cannot gather, we are even more connected than before. We have a weekly video conference scheduled, and I’m using some of the skills I’ve learned in a course I’m taking to facilitate a safe and brave space, where everyone is heard and held for every joy and concern.

In fact, I have multiple circles like this. One with a spiritual, intuitive focus. One to nurture a loving bond, of a group that has met monthly for decades, to cook together and raise a glass, as we share the depth of what is happening in our lives. Now, we are having a monthly virtual happy hour, instead… and we each offer a toast to the camera with our gratitude for the safety and wellness of each sacred soul.

And then… there’s the community of remarkable beings with whom I have been meeting weekly since the end of October. We have lately remarked on how we felt drawn to this online course for reasons unknown… until now. Now, we can see the guiding hand of the Universe, that led us each to sign up for Heather Plett’s Holding Space Leadership Program last fall (or spring for those of us in the southern hemisphere).

In the beginning, we were told that we numbered about 50, and were given a pinpoint map of the world to show where each of us are physically located. We are in Canada (east and west), we are all over the United States, we are all over Australia, we are in Japan, Singapore, Norway, and Belgium. There are other countries on the map, but I’m not sure I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a few people that are learning and growing with us.

Through five modules and seven months of weekly connectedness, we have experienced so much. We started by learning about the basic concepts and symbolism in Holding Space, then moved into learning how to hold space for ourselves. We did a deep dive into the foundation of The Circle Way, as one form of the container we can create for the courage and vulnerability of others. Next, we moved into the module to which I most looked forward… Holding Space in Complexity. Friends…. I learned this lesson years ago when I asked Ganesha to remove my obstacles and had to leave my job of 10 years the next day… BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR.

Right before this module started, we were holding space for our friends and classmates in Australia, for their country was burning. With them, we prayed for rain and an end to the nightmare, while listening to their fears and concerns without judgment, deepening our skills for holding others in a space where we know we cannot fix it… and understanding the power of remaining present, rather than looking away from that which we cannot control.

In the months before, we were sharing our stories with depth, honesty, and vulnerability, in groups of 20, groups of 4, and one-on-one. We were finding resonance with these stories, and reaching out away from the class meeting time and separate from the homework, because we wanted to know more about each soul who was speaking to our own. Slowly, the news was shifting focus, from the natural disaster down under, to classmates in corporate roles who were preparing for pandemic.

And then… it happened. The whole world shut down. Only, we were not just seeing it in the news. We were witnessing it through the stories of our new friends and classmates. We found gratitude in seeing each face in a tiny Zoom-square every week, with a breath of relief – thank goodness she/he/they are safe.

Talk about complexity! We thought the hardest part would be unveiling our implicit biases, and peeling back our privilege. But imagine being in that deep dive and learning that so much death is occurring in places denied the privilege from which you benefit… like on Reservations and in black communities. It’s a painful process, but worth the effort. It might just free you from inertia and give you the strength and courage to do more.

But wait… there’s more. Some kind of magick occurred in this process. Our remarkable and big-hearted teachers and facilitators, who are on their fifth go-round with this annual class, have informed us that this level of bonding has not happened before. They had not previously seen members creating new groups of their own – like our Thursday meditation circle that meets before class. They wonder if we can pinpoint the factors that supported this cohesiveness. I’m not sure if we have an answer. It feels spiritual to me, as if Mother Earth commanded it.

Let me tell you, this love runs deep. There is something powerful about vulnerability. When we have the courage to go deep, and to peel away the layers of pretense, daring to speak our truths, and to be held and heard by others with respect and caring… falling in love is inevitable. This is where we find belonging. Together, we have learned that when we show up for one another, even in the silence of meditation, the strands that are the fiber of our beings become interwoven. We have no doubt that this bond will only grow stronger. With two weeks left of class, we have already committed to continue.

I’ve had trouble writing this year. My words normally flow easily through the simple action of placing my fingers on the keyboard, but lately… the flow has been blocked. Whether it is because of my body’s fight or flight response to the constant pounding and vibration of nearby construction or the empathic space holding of fear and chaos for what is happening for the collective, I am unsure. But what I do know, is that I didn’t want this time to go by undocumented. I don’t want to forget, should the world normalize in any way, what magick we’ve created in this liminal time.

I’ve been thinking about this pandemic, and how it has affected the world. It rapidly spread across continents and changed everything in an instant. But when I seek the good in the situation, which I always do, what I acknowledge, value, and treasure is the way that when our personal lives have gotten so very small… our love has gotten so very big.

The family that I am working to protect started as three people in two houses on one block, and has spread across the entire globe. It’s a fam-demic!

I have no doubt that if so much love can be nurtured and expanded through a series of sacred circles, it can surely ripple out across the world. And really, loving one another is the only thing that can bring this suffering to an end.

I love you enough to wear a mask. I love you enough to wash my hands. I love you enough to keep my distance. I love you enough to offer my care. I love you enough to help where I can. I love you enough to show up, even if virtually is the best way, for now. I love you enough to speak my truth. I love you enough to honor your truth. I love you enough to hold this space for you with the light of love. Thank you for walking this path with me. I love you more.

Impossible Choices

I am blessed to have a number of remarkable male friends in my life, and I trust each of them completely. My father and brother, among them. But the places where I have always felt safe and held with great care, have been in circles of women.

In the age of Trump, I am finding it horrifyingly difficult to settle for a candidate who will hopefully knock him off of his golden toilet (a great metaphor for how he treats our land and humans, alike – stealing the gold and shitting on the rest). My entire life has been spent settling for men unworthy of my love, and I have every intention of being done with this lesson the Universe has been presenting with consistency for three decades. This is the year that old patterns die.

Every man in my life who has entered in a romantic nature, has proven to be a disappointment, in one form or another – pretenders, cheaters, liars. I’ve written about them before, so I won’t bore you with outdated stories of woe. Enter the age of Trump… and I am triggered by his lies and bullying on a daily basis. His emotional instability, inability to speak the truth and his constant attacks on all that is good in this world, including the planet herself, make me feel like my own personal darkness has been made manifest in a single being, and is doing its best to swallow the light. As if to say, here you go! Have your fill of men who lie and be done with it! Be determined to set a healthy boundary, refuse to settle for less than you deserve, it is past time to move forward. We will make it impossible to tolerate this behavior any longer by saturating the world with it.

I am finally well enough – in recovery from unworthiness – to declare that I deserve better. WE DESERVE BETTER!

At the depths of my soul, I believe that it will take the strength of women’s hearts to right this world. I can no longer put stock in white men to get it done. They have failed us for centuries. They failed us the first time they heard a religious leader spew the words that women are the root of all evil, and didn’t stand beside us to say, “fuck that shit!” Instead, they stood by and watched us burn.

You’ve probably guessed that I voted for Hillary Clinton for president, and you are correct. I voted for her the first time, because I felt she had a plethora of experience that made her the best candidate for the role. She was well-educated in the law of our country, she had met more world leaders at the side of President Clinton, than any other President in history, and she fought hard for our country to provide healthcare for all, though the battle was lost because the effort was led by a woman.

When Barack Obama received the nomination, I could easily get behind him, because he was brilliant, a constitutional scholar, and my soul connected with his authentic goodness. But also…he,too, has been lied to his whole life. People lied to him about disrespecting him, not for the color of his skin, but some other made up bullshit. When he asked Hillary to be his Secretary of State, I applauded his choice, for all of the reasons above.

I voted for Hillary when she ran again, not because she was a woman, but because I felt she was the best candidate with the most experience in international affairs, as well as domestic care and concerns. I sobbed to see a racist, fascist, rapist being handed that position, because so many Americans could not stand to see a woman in the White House. Women are too emotional to lead, they said. Hillary was too polarizing, they said. But none seem to offer comment on the insanity of emotional rants and tweets from the current occupant, or how hate crimes have risen since day-one of his reign. Our country is surely suffering a greater division than we’ve experienced in my lifetime. Polarizing? Not her fault. This one’s on the white man in the White House.

I was thrilled to see so many people stand up to run for President in this election. The diversity and wisdom of each was inspiring and comforting. I felt that we would surely have the opportunity to elect someone who could make us proud. I was immediately drawn to Elizabeth Warren. At first, it was an intuitive feeling, much the way I am drawn to people whose energy resonates with my own. That feeling is what built my Tribe 26 years ago. That energy sustains me and delivers light in times of darkness.

Elizabeth Warren feels safe to me. She has the life experience that informs me she knows my suffering, and during her time as Senator, dealing with the likes of Mitch McConnell, she has proven herself to be a warrior. She does not tolerate a bully, and won’t allow those still finding their feet after trauma, to be beaten into the ground. She has plans that can improve our current situation, and is not too egotistic to allow input to improve them. She is the wise counsel leader in a sacred circle, who offers heart and time for all to be heard and held. She resonates with my own traumatized soul. And when I plugged my own beliefs into the candidate identifier program, she rose to the top each time.

So, as we near the end of the primary season, and we see that all women and people of color have been conveniently removed from our list of choices, I am finding it difficult to settle. My beloved country having to settle for a sociopathic toddler in the last Presidential election felt like the last straw. And yet… it seems certain that I must, as my personal history dictates, betray myself for the good of all. But… but… I DESERVE BETTER, UNIVERSE!

Yeah… I know that I’m not alone, as many of us have lost the opportunity to vote for someone we can easily believe in. I will vote for whichever white man my party presents to be deemed capable of defeating the tyrant, but I refuse to stop supporting the women I wish to have in my circle. I will take a moment to grieve and wail, as the banshee announces another death in the lifelong dream of women being considered truly equal. Then, I will gather hope into a resonant belief that we shall overcome, and that circles of authentic women and men will gather and forge a new way forward.

If Trump was the pendulum swing that resulted from a brilliant, black president who delivered respectability to our country in the eyes of the world, I had hoped that the misogyny and tyrannical terror of Trump would swing us toward our first female president as a salve for the emotional and psychic wounds we’ve endured.

Perhaps the Universe has something in store that is better than we can currently imagine. Or perhaps it will call forth that mighty meteor that will wipe humans off the earth, so that regeneration of the scarred sacred earth may finally begin from the destruction we’ve fraught. Choices. Possible?

However this particular chapter ends, may we successfully elect a leader who will put the needs of all life on planet Earth before the greed of wealthy men. May we elect a leader of strength and integrity who can restore all that has been lost, and deliver something better than we ever dreamed possible. Make it so, dear Universe.

Revealing the Light

I have a morning ritual of looking at my ‘today in history’ posts on facebook, as a kind of gratitude review. Today, I found a post from 2014, that seemed to rise up to speak to me in the current era. I was going to share it, with my thoughts on fb, but it started to feel like a blogpost, so here I am. Let’s see what comes up.

February 20, 2014
“If it feels like cracks are forming in your life, those cracks may be what is needed for the light within to reveal itself.” ~Heidi DuPree


I have found inspiration to be elusive lately, during a time of unsettling uncertainty. I don’t think I’m alone, by any means. So, today I want to reach out my heart and hands to touch your spirit to remind you that I do see your light, and that mine is still here, too, shining brightly through the fog. We will get through all difficulty together, with the courage to keep smiling and to believe that ALL SHALL BE WELL. With our combined light… everything is illuminated. I love you! 

I wrote this in 2014, when life at work had become less joyful. Sitting in an executive suite when you’re an empath means that you can feel even what isn’t being spoken. At that point in time, very little was being shared with the administrative staff. My boss was very mindful of my caring heart, and she protected me from much of what was happening. It didn’t stop the post-event suffering, but I suppose it did keep me from suffering in silence longer than necessary (should I run into a friend in the cafe whose name might be on a list). But even when I didn’t know what was going on… I could feel an energy that was enormously stressful and somewhat heartbreaking. And the hardest part was that I was in a role that prohibited discussing it with anyone. Hence the ‘vague-booking’ post above.

We had been through the company’s first layoff months before, and I’m not sure if they were discussing the sale of a flagship company openly at the time, but by July, that sale would be complete and by October of that year – we would see the hostile takeover of our board of directors.

Before that first ‘staff adjustment’, as they call it in some corporations, I would wake with inspiration and share a positive quote with loving words of my own to put a little light into the universe, but afterwards… it felt disrespectful to those we’d lost to even suggest there was any light out there. And frankly, as one who values authenticity, it felt fake to force positivity. I understood the depth of their bitterness and sense of betrayal, for a place to which they’d offered many years of service and loyalty. (Imagining myself in the shoes of others is my number one strength, after all.) For those who had to leave and to those who got to stay, what once felt like the security of ‘family’, suddenly felt unsafe, and it was very difficult to find hope or joy.

The truth is, things were painfully difficult for a while. We saw the sale of the company that enabled the birth of all the rest, and our fellow employees were split into groups of must go / can’t stay and stay here / rebuild. I know that those who had to go felt abandoned and expelled. In a place where we all felt like family, it was excruciating. The sense of betrayal was a physical beast covered in barbed wire, that walked the halls. Whether you were staying or going, you couldn’t help but bump into it and be left bloodied and sore.

A great deal of change occurred over the next 3.5 years until my own departure, and the arrival of a new board dictated the departure of the executive team. Which also wiped out much of the beautiful diversity in leadership that had been nurtured over the previous decade.

I can’t help but see some parallels between the transformation of that beloved company and our beloved nation, and the internalized turmoil I am experiencing now. It certainly feels as if Russia is the ‘activist investor’ placing their own CEO at the head of OUR corporation.The guy who bought the role of Chairman for a time (by purchasing enough shares of company stock to tip the balance), ousted the African American CEO who had effectively changed the face of the company, bringing it into the 21st century. He may not have been perfect, but he was certainly a man of integrity.

The funny thing was, conversations with members of the new board informed us that what they found once they got in to review how things were being managed, they really didn’t find anything wrong. A year or two later, the bully Chairman moved on to bully someone else, and life started to normalize. And it turned out, there were some things that did improve when he was gone. Mainly, the stock price. But also, it woke some of us into reality, to recognize that we could finally let go of the illusion of ‘once upon a time’, as that chapter had closed. The company we started working for, was not the same company we were working for now.

I remember hearing people say that they thought having a ‘business man’ as president of our country would be a good thing. As someone who was in a front row seat for the growth and expansion of a large corporation, I knew better.

I’ll tell you what was lost in efforts to please the shareholder. The creator of the corporation believed that the employees were the most important advantage of the business, next to the community being served. As a consequence, a sense of loyalty and familial bliss among employees and community was most evident. But as times changed, and Wall Street became more important, the support and care for employees and community were diminished. That is what tragedy has befallen our beloved country. People no longer matter, benefits shrink for the one struggling while they grow for those who could easily pay their own way. Only the bank accounts of those who are not living paycheck to paycheck and have money to invest in the stock market will find any benefit in this world order.

So… as we, as a country, are drowning in darkness, with criminal activity being openly supported by the GOP, how on Earth can we find any light?

Perhaps we are being awakened to the truth that what we once believed we had was never really there, at all. And with this information, we must light our own torches, and step up to the task of rebuilding, now that it has all been torn down. Maybe we can forge a new nation, not one where, as the founders dictated that all ‘men’ are equal (which really meant white men who came to this continent from other places), but one where all BEINGS are created equal.

And while we’re in the process of tearing down the walls of illusion and false belief, we can certainly reach out to those who have been struck by the rubble and offer them a little more love and compassion.

So, today I want to reach out my heart and hands to touch your spirit to remind you that I do see your light, and that mine is still here, too, shining brightly through the fog. We will get through all difficulty together, with the courage to keep smiling and to believe that ALL SHALL BE WELL. With our combined light… everything is illuminated. I love you! 

Building a Strong Foundation

I woke the other morning, realizing I had been dreaming about spiders. Now, normally, that would have informed me that my subconscious was working out some kind of stress. I have a phobia that has played out in spider nightmares my entire life. The irrationality of my fear must be connected to a past life, because even the tiniest eight legged being, spinning from my rear view mirror, could cause some screaming and hyperventilation, if not an accident. Silly, I know.

What was different that morning, was my sense that whatever had happened in my dreams, this time it was not focused on the fear or the havoc caused, but on the strength of the weave in carefully threaded webs. What I can recall was a tiny, armored being wrapping a thread between two poles over and over and over, until it formed, at once a supportive cradle and a powerful slingshot.

In the past, when I have had spiders show up (for real) in my life, I have asked the question to the Universe: “Why are you making me feel unsafe? What are you trying to tell me?” I have heard the reply: “What do you fear most?” Then, I could reflect on what false belief I was holding onto.

The words I heard in my mind this time were: “building a strong foundation”. What comes to mind (thank goodness something came to mind, because my brain has been too fuzzy to write for some time), is community. Not just the cliche ‘we are the web’, but in the way that we come together and pool our energy and resources to catch someone we love, rather than allowing them to fall or fend for themselves.

I’ve been doing some extra caregiving since January. A dear friend went through knee replacement surgery, and I was able to offer some needed support for her (age 75) and her wife of 40 years (age 83). With severe memory issues, it is difficult for her wife to navigate the hospital alone, and I had the flexibility to stand-in until her daughter could be available.

These women are also pillars of our Unitarian church community, and the recipients of much love and support from many others, in one form or another.

While at home healing from the knee replacement, my friend fell while getting out of bed, and somehow broke her femur. Yes. It sounds unbelievable, and she is pretty pissed off about the whole thing. It meant another hospital stay, another surgery, and this time, she had to go to rehab to learn how to maneuver without putting more than 20 lbs. of pressure on the healing leg.

Folks, the state of rehab care I’ve witnessed in the last two years has been an eye opener. That’s not to say that those who are caring for our loved ones in facilities are negligent (though some are clearly more skilled than others), it is that the carer vs. patient ratio is terribly deficient. When Dad was dealing with health issues, he ended up in the same facility twice. The first time, the space was brand new and beautiful. Not a bad place to recover. But the second time, he went to a different floor, which was not new, and conditions upon arrival were not acceptable. Both times, it was nearly impossible to find someone on staff to assist, and I shudder to imagine what he might have endured without my advocacy. (His version of self-care is to shrug his shoulders and say: “Oh, well.”) Both my father and my friend, were forbidden and physically unable to get out of bed alone, and yet response time to the call-button was often longer than 30 minutes. One in this position simply has to cast-off their sense of dignity and pride. It’s pretty awful.

When we are older, compounding these circumstances may be our sense of body betrayal and feelings of regret, fear, and overwhelming emotion which bottles up and spills over onto the people upon whose care we rely. And it’s especially difficult when we have grown old with a partner who has age-related difficulties of their own. My parents have been together for nearly 60 years, and while one has mobility and memory issues, the other has hearing and memory issues. There is not a whole lot of patience between them, but when I remind them that their partner is living inside their own world of challenges and fears, it seems that a bit more compassion rises for the other.

So, yesterday, I picked up my friend from rehab and brought her home, after a two week stay in what she has dubbed ‘hell’. We arrived home to her wife, who had already made some adjustments to make life easier. I had a plan for how we could get her onto the porch and into the house, which would have involved a series of maneuvers. But we ultimately decided to call for a non-emergency lift assist with our local fire department. These people are amazing, generous, and kind. Several friends from church had offered support and shared resources such as a wheelchair (until the prescribed chair arrives), a shower chair (from a friend who went through his own difficult recovery after knee surgery), a new shower head installed by a friend who also helped remove the bathroom door for easier access, and a sister-friend RN arrived just in time to help us get our healing-being settled safely into bed. They have more friends from church who are delivering meals and fellowship. Seriously, if you are dealing with some shit, it is a beautiful thing to be in such a caring circle.

Beautiful Beings from Orange County Fire Station 66

Every once in a while, my friend and I have a conversation about the ‘why me’ of it all. Neither of us believe that things always ‘happen for a reason’, so we choose to seek the ‘what may I learn’ from this current challenge. What comes to mind for me is that body betrayal allows those who have served others to finally receive a karmic return on investment. My father was a Vocational Rehab counselor and supervisor for the bulk of his career, and my friend was a mental health counselor. They supported many grateful beings in times of need. Now, they are each being supported in theirs.

And, perhaps their individual challenges will lend a sense of patience and understanding for the struggles of their partners. But what I hope for the most, is that they each learn to forgive the betrayal of their own bodies, and to love them unconditionally for the strength and support they’ve always provided, as the sacred containers of their precious souls.

Caring for beloveds through this process of aging and supporting them through physical challenges is surely a message to me from the Universe, as I am reminded to offer myself the kind of care and attention I offer others. I have a whole list of things I would like to be doing for myself, including using a year-old gift card for a massage. What the hell?! How can I urge anyone else to self-care when I am not walking my own talk? Well, I’m getting there. I scheduled my well-visits with the doctor and imaging center, and got blood work done. Step by step, I will keep loving myself a little more, offering my body her own karmic reward. Hopefully, she’ll recognize my efforts and allow forgiveness over defeat.

Today, as I showered, I offered my body heartfelt gratitude and as I dried off, I sang to my own reflection. Oh, how we all deserve to be loved and cherished… especially by our own sacred selves.

So, the words I heard that morning were ‘building a strong foundation’, and I reflect on what meaning might be found. We are blessed with an unbreakable net woven with golden strands of individuals in our beloved community. Our friends, caregivers, hospital staff, physical therapists, and firefighters are among those who offer a cradle or hammock of nurturing protection. Our partners (if we are blessed to have one) are the home we get to return to, again and again. And the tenderness, compassion, and unconditional love that we offer ourselves is the beacon of warmth and healing light that we offer the world in reciprocity for this extraordinary earthly experience.

If you, dear one, are facing challenges in your own life, I hope that you are feeling held in the light of love, and that you are gently pouring unconditional love onto every wound and sorrow. Let that love spread throughout your physical and energetic being to soothe every ache and anxiety. Let peace settle into your bones, and witness joyful gratitude rising to the surface. And may that joy outshine fear and longing. Let that gorgeous light of yours become a healing balm that comforts you and those around you, as you witness the vision of your own transformation and new beginning. I’ll be right here to cheer as you emerge!

Thank you for walking this path with me. I am grateful for your care.

Decade in Reflection

So much can change in a year. New Year’s Eve is often the prompt for such a review. Considering what we were doing this time last year, for our family, it seems we have a decent year to celebrate. After seeing a movie with the entire family, I rushed my father to the emergency room on the eve of 2019. It was then that a problem we’d dealt with since October was finally diagnosed and in the months that followed a urethral stricture would find repair.

In 2019, unlike the year before, Pop has been at home, rather than in the hospital or rehab (save for the stricture recovery). He also had a procedure to repair the entropion in his left eye, which started while in rehab the year before. This was my first full year as a parental caregiver. It pays very little (I’m living on a tiny fraction of my retirement savings), but offers great reward. I know that my parents are safe, cared for, and that they both feel loved.

There’s much more to review for the year, but I’ve been reminded that we are not just at year’s end, but at decade’s end, so I’ll take a moment to journey through time. This time, ten years ago, I packed up the office of the boss who needed me, and watched him drive away from the office for the last time. 8.5 years earlier, he hired me to be his assistant, and that partnership changed both of our lives for the better. That’s really a story for the previous decade, but I can reflect on how different my life would be now, had the universe failed to align in our favor for a fruitful partnership. This early retirement to care for my parents would have been impossible, had he NOT chosen me in the early part of the decade that came before. I am eternally grateful for the way my life fell apart and came back together.

In my personal life, the beginning of this decade saw the end of an important friendship and a crack in the foundation of my Tribe. Trust was lost and never rediscovered. I’m certain that this soulmate life lesson was about learning why we don’t put people on pedestals, about the destructive nature of shame, and understanding how betrayal can make one feel like they have lost their mind (very useful experience for learning to hold space for others without judgment). Also affirmed, when someone leaves our lives, though it feels catastrophic for the loss of a future we once imagined, in time, our hearts do heal, and we fill that void with different experiences. Not better, not worse, just… different.

In 2012, I made a decision that brought a new group of people into my life, whom I adore. Having struggled with self-loathing and metabolic disorder since my early 20’s, I chose to have weight loss surgery. A woman I met in the support group I joined, became one of my best friends. We have held space for one another through difficult days, which is an important chapter in each of our healing journeys (read my blogpost “Witness to Healing”). The surgery may have been a temporary fix, since my metabolism remains broken, but the purpose of that path was clearly to bring us together. I wouldn’t change a thing.

2013 was a difficult year. It marked the first layoff in the corporate history of the workplace many of us loved. I witnessed so much heartbreak as people who would have chosen to stay forever had to leave. Then 2014 came along and I had a front row seat for the hostile takeover of the board of directors. I do not recommend any of this level of drama for an empathic soul. At the core of these two years was the heavy emotion of feeling helpless and unsafe. This was a period when I felt lost in darkness and could not find my inner light.

In 2015, I realized that sometimes things don’t go the way we planned, but it doesn’t mean they won’t go well. It was up to me to plan and execute more executive retirement events that year than I care to count. There are two positives to note with these changes delivered by so called ‘activist investors’. One is that every executive that I’ve run into since saying farewell at the event I organized on their behalf has reported that they are enormously happy. One I ran into last year said to me, “Melissa, I had no idea what I was missing!” And of course, my greatest loss in 2015 was the boss who loved me. I texted her on her birthday ten days ago, and she replied with photos from the travel adventure she and her husband were returning from with news of the one they were about to leave for with their adult children. Her migraines, a weekly if not daily occurrence while working, are a thing of the past. The other positive is that the company stock performance exceeded the lofty expectations of the guy who felt more like a terrorist in those early days of the takeover. (Again… a boon to my early retirement.)

The next two years swim with memories of tolerance, really. The place I once loved to work felt foreign in energy and culture… but still I couldn’t imagine that life could be better elsewhere. Then, in 2017… a new boss delivered liberation. Her former assistant who now sits at my desk of 16 years, told another she was told just to wait 90 days. I nearly danced out of the building that day, walked out by one of the leaders I supported, the way so many others departed in 2013. I did not feel unsafe, though. I was a little surprised by the sense of relief I felt. Instead of my world collapsing, it was falling into place.

The next year confirmed the sense that I could never return to that corporate world. I started writing and learning and growing, and have not stopped. I spent a year studying death and dying – and learned how live more mindfully. I spent time learning to write and edit for a popular online journal, and decided I prefer to write in my own style, for myself, knowing that comfort or inspiration may be found for those who bless my words with their valuable time and attention. I no longer wish to bend myself to fit the expectations of others.

This year, I planted metaphoric seeds which have grown into a glorious garden of lush connectedness, colorful healing, and bountiful beauty for myself and the sacred gardeners who have traveled this path with me. Eight seasonally evolving workshops and one mountain retreat brought together a new community of remarkable beings who care deeply for the wellness of one another, as they cultivate greater authenticity and joy in their own lives. To me, it feels like the birth of a new Tribe.

In this decade, I have lost friends to cancer, I have celebrated with some the news of remission, and with others, who continue the path of metastasis, facing challenges and overcoming them, I am committed to holding space, either bearing light or sitting in the darkness, with hope they will at least not feel alone. They are great warriors who continue to teach me about surrendering to grace, resting when the body commands, and opening to receive the kindness of others.

As I’ve focused on recreating myself and my world, I have walked with others whose lives have also changed through the death of a loved one or a former career, through aging – either of self, partners, children, or parents, and a host of other types of transformation induced by the unavoidable and unexpected. What has been fortified on this pilgrimage is that we are stronger together, and that we are never alone. Though we are nurturing different dreams for ourselves, we still glory in the manifestation of peace and comfort in the lives of those we love.

I’ve reflected on a decade of loss, but there has also been great adventure. Since 2010, I have been blessed to travel. Many adventures were with my life-long friend, and best travel companion (see my blogpost: “My Favorite Tomboy”). We started the decade with a trip to England, and birthed an annual Art-Cation tradition. Wherever we go, be it in driving distance or via flight, to see family or friends, or to touch the mysteries of history, we seek and find the local artists whose gifts reach through canvas to touch the hearts of others. In 2011, a trip to Scotland with anther friend delivered more magick and new friends. (European travel, for me, was a luxury that a few years without a car payment allowed.) I cannot fathom a life firmly planted. I am grateful for the wanderlust my mother seeded in me.

A decade of reflection could probably go on for just as long. So I’ll come back home to current gratitudes. My parents and I are closer than we have ever been, and not just because they bought a house up the street five years ago. My involvement in my father’s daily care since the last quarter of 2018 has nurtured an intimacy we never had before. And my mother and I have talked through old wounds and healing has been found. I laughed on my way home from setting Dad up with breakfast, to realize that instead of commenting on my weight, my mother complemented my butt. This feels like a good omen for the future. Ha!

Finally, in this decade I have welcomed four cats into my life. One died two years after his arrival, a freak tragedy that he probably thought might be a small adventure, and the other died in my arms in September. It was difficult to give words to the love and affection each of these magickal beings offered me (see my blogposts: “The Love of a Good Cat, Parts 2 and 3”). And last month, the other two beings of fluff and light came into my life and home. We are all still getting to know each other, but I predict a grand love affair in the decade to come.

To bring this reflection to conclusion, acknowledging a million other important things that occurred which I’ve failed to list, I would be remiss not to mention this blog. For many years, I was told by others that I had a gift for writing, and that I should do something with it. I once could not imagine how that might manifest. What on earth would I write about, and who would want to read it? But here we are.

A year and a half of writing about life has taught me a great deal about the power of introspection and sharing – about vulnerability and authenticity. I have been blessed to receive from others the acknowledgment that they found resonance in my words, they have sometimes been introduced to a new way of looking at things, and best of all, they have at times seen themselves on these pages, and found comfort in the reminder that we are all one.

As this decade comes to a close and you move through your own review, I hope that you have found balance. If there has been great change and loss, I hope there has also been great discovery and joy. If your health has been a primary focus, I hope that you have received the love and resources that support your path to acceptance, healing and wellness. I hope that the hardships can be seen as lessons, and that you can see clearly the beauty of your own evolution. I hope that you have found compassion and kindness for nurturing yourself, as well as others. I hope you have found forgiveness… for those who have harmed you, if possible, but more importantly, for yourself, be it for poor choices or for never having made a choice.

With this old decade, I am choosing to leave behind the ‘tradition’ of measuring my worth by how much weight I’ve lost, and my value by the size of my income. Three decades of not-enough-ness is quite enough, thank you!

Into this new decade, I shall only measure my goodness by the love that I give, and my fortune by the love that I receive.

Happy New Year, dear ones. Thank you for walking this path with me. Wishing you an abundance of blessings in the decade to come. May you have all you need and want all you have. You are so loved!

Winter Solstice & The Becoming

In October, I committed to an 8-month course on Holding Space Leadership. The first module was on the basics of Holding Space, and yesterday marked its conclusion.

As I reflect on this introduction and the pending Celtic Holy Day, which marks another turn of the wheel of the year in the ever changing cycle of seasons, I can’t help but contemplate Heather Plett’s notes on Liminal Space. It feels like the Winter Solstice (now happening in the northern hemisphere) is a perfect example of this concept.

She uses the caterpillar to butterfly metaphor in great detail, which makes it so easy to understand the middle ground of a transition cycle. I hadn’t realized the process of transformation of these magickal creatures until I read Martha Beck’s Steering by Starlight in 2018, when I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, since my past life felt finished. That’s where I learned that the caterpillar doesn’t just sprout longer legs and wings while cloaked in mystery… it actually ceases to exist in its previous form. It becomes a liquid before becoming solid again, in a brand new way.

From this course, I have learned that when we are in the process of un-becoming – casting off a former self, while not yet stepping into a new, final form… we are in liminal space. There is no time limit on transformation. We can be in this space for a year or a decade. It takes however long it takes. No pressure. No judgment. No shame.

What I took from Martha’s notes on this transition, is that if someone were to try to help (or force) the butterfly out of its safe place, it would ooze out and cease to exist… never to emerge in that glorious form. So, we come to understand that when we are in liminal space, it is our gift and responsibility to do the work of transformation. No one can do it for us. And from Heather’s notes on this process, I realized that as one who is holding space for someone in transition, it is not our responsibility to force their becoming, but to provide the safe place for this transformation to occur in their own time and on their own terms.

Now that I’ve been given language for it, I realize that this time of year, between one holiday and another, and another, and another… is like being in liminal space.

When I was in the corporate world, everything shifted the week before Thanksgiving. There was a sense of limbo to living, as everyone moved into some kind of chaotic survival mode. Either coming alive with anticipation of time with family, vacation, decorations, gifts, etc… or conversely, killing themselves to get it all done, or wanting to – for the stress of it all, with the enormous discomfort and despair it might bring for a host of reasons. This feeling of clouded disconnection would take root and hold on until the second week of the new year.

This is my third holiday season without co-workers, so I’m no longer witness to the excitement or tension. My family and I have moved away from the stress and chaos of holidays dictated by expectations. I didn’t put up a tree or purchase presents this year. It’s funny how simplifying one’s life can feel so liberating.

Even without all of the trappings of the holiday season, this time of year still feels like liminal space… a time of reflection and transformation.

This year, we are not only facing the end of another year, but the end of a decade. In reflection, we may review this time to see where we’ve been and what has changed. In 2010, the boss who needed me had just retired, and the boss who loved me was growing nicely into her new role. I loved my job, I loved my workplace, and I loved the people. I was still learning how to love myself. I hoped I would always get to be there, in that job. But the universe had other plans. Thank goodness.

I think I moved into liminal space when the boss who loved me retired in 2015, and the rest of the decade has been spent in peeling away all of the layers that had turned into something ‘unbecoming’ to me. My soul took flight when I realized that I didn’t have to stay in that form that always felt a little false. I looked and felt completely out of place in the corporate world, where making money for shareholders was more important than nurturing and stoking the light of love in every individual. Yet, I don’t regret the work of the caterpillar that delivered the abundance of savings that became the chrysalis of transformation. In fact, I am grateful for that former self in that past life.

I remember when I started writing in 2018, how I would refer to that former life, wondering where I might go next and what I might do with the time remaining. I simply decided to follow inspiration and my IGS (internal guidance system) to see where it would lead. In the last two years, I have studied End of Life wisdom, writing and editing, and have started on the path of Holding Space Leadership (something I already do, but don’t know what I don’t know). My favorite exploration has been crafting and facilitating workshops and retreats focused on mindfulness, creative expression, sacred ceremony, and joy manifestation in the form of self-awareness and intentional living.

I am not the same person I was before the universe wrapped me in a cloak of transformation. I am no longer the caterpillar, but I am not yet the butterfly, either. I’m somewhere in the goo, tossing out what doesn’t belong, picking out colors and textures that will suit my new wings, when I am ready to take flight.

I challenge you, dear reader, to determine where you are in your own sacred cycle. If you feel as if you are in liminal space, even if it feels like years have passed while you’ve been here, embrace your beautiful gooey self and keep doing the work of transformation. Don’t be afraid to let go of what no longer serves you. Just chuck it! You’re going to need that extra space to build your wings.

I wrote a meditation for my goddess group Solstice gathering that was inspired by this work, and I recorded it for sharing. Keep in mind that I’m not a professional – I am exploring tools that I’m figuring out as I go, and it is far from perfect. I guess it is liminal, too. Also, it was written for a specific gathering, so please forgive the gender reference at the end.

A Meditation Inspired by Rebirth at Winter Solstice, Liminal Space, and Chakra Alignment

So, tomorrow the sun will set and we will experience the longest night of the year. It is the perfect time for reflection and introspection. Move into that glorious darkness and give your gooey self a good swirl. Glory in your blessed opportunity to recreate yourself as the days begin to grow longer, when your divine spirit is reborn along with the radiant sun.

For those who find this time of year to be difficult or painful, know that I am holding space for you in my heart. Wishing you sweet memories to be cherished of the past and new memories to be made and revered in the future.

HAPPY SOLSTICE!

Centering Our Souls at Samhain

Part Four of a Manifestation Story

At the heart of this retreat was the myth of Persephone. When I started studying death last year, as a part of the End of Life Doula studies, I dedicated my learning to Her in the role of Goddess of the Underworld. But here’s the thing… I have chosen a version of the myth which is not tied to patriarchal brutality. I am not interested in perpetuating or celebrating a relationship based on abduction, rape, and entrapment. There is another telling that I prefer. It was one I learned from another, so I cannot verify the source – but I suspect it comes from Dr. Pinkola Estes or another goddess-mother of feminine spirituality. The version that my swiss-cheese memory recalls goes something like this…

Persephone was in a field collecting flowers to make a circlet for her mother’s hair, when she came upon a lost soul who could not find the doorway to the underworld. She returned to her mother, the Goddess Demeter, and told her that she must go into the underworld to guide these lost souls and offer them initiation. Though She did not want to let her go (the plight of most mothers), Demeter watched Persephone’s descent and immediately longed for her return. As she mourned the absence of her daughter, the world fell into a stark, quiet version of itself as a blanket of snow fell and the flowers receded into the earth.

Meanwhile, Persephone took Her place at the crystal doorway to offer seeds of transformation to those who no longer walked upon the earth. Initiation involved consumption of a pomegranate seed, and these garnet seeds would light the inner flame of those moving into a new way of being. When Persephone returned from the underworld to visit her mother, Demeter felt such joy that the earth burst forth in blossoms of celebration, as life and color bloomed once more.

Here we have a story of creation and of changing seasons, mothers and daughters, of love and loss, of passion and responsibility, of transformation, death and renewal. This is a version of an ancient tale I can relate to.

My current belief (current – because I am ever evolving based on my own life experience) about the transformation that death brings is that we are all energetic beings, and in human incarnation we are able to learn and grow through emotions that are not experienced beyond the confines of the body. So, once we have gathered these lessons and intentions, we are free to leave the body behind, as we return to energetic form. Those we love and have lost in body to death, remain ever present in energetic form. My intention for connecting with our lost loves at Samhain, was to use the tool of creative visualization or meditation to sit with them once more.

And so it was Persephone who manifested within the cave of sacred memory to offer us initiation and safe passage. When we reached the central chamber, which was warmed by firelight, with walls donned with portraits of our ancestors and dear ones lost, we sat upon a crimson couch and welcomed whomever chose to step through the doorway veiled in magickal moonlight.

The results of meditation differ, based on experience. Someone who is well-practiced may have honed the ability to get out of their own way to let vision come and judgment or expectation fall away. But one should never negate the vision or experience they find in the sacred space of the powerful mind.

JK Rowling, I feel, captured it perfectly in The Deathly Hallows, when Harry asks the ghostly image of Professor Dumbledore:

“Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?”
“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

Some of us had very clear, even life-altering conversations with one or more people on that comfy couch. Some of us saw ourselves surrounded by smiling loved ones who were present, without words. As for me, I found an opportunity to seek forgiveness and receive acceptance at the edge of the underworld.

I had no expectation of my own personal journey, since I had written the meditation, led the visualization, and was ultimately holding space for the experience of others. However, as I provided the silent pause for those on this journey to find connection, someone came through the veil for me.

In January of 1993, I volunteered in the buddy program for Hope & Help, a local resource for people living with HIV. I was introduced to my first and only buddy somewhere around my 24th birthday. I was the first ‘stranger’ his parents left him with, so that they could go to church together. When they left, he told me that he was being punished by God. This broke my heart and made me angry, all at once. I am not a fan of religions that lead people to believe they are worthy of abandonment and abuse from a supposed all-powerful being. He was a young and passionate choir leader for his gospel church. He had a blood transfusion during a surgery after his appendix burst. He died in November of that same year, a week before his 28th birthday.

It was Kirby who came through the veil for me. He was smiling and happy to see me, and the feeling was mutual. A part of my guidance was to consider the conversations we never got to have… the ones where we have the opportunity to say to our loved ones: Please forgive me. I forgive you. Thank you. I love you. 26 years have passed since Kirby left this earthly realm, and he came through so that I could tell him something I needed to say.

When I was 24, I had not yet learned about life, let alone death. I had minimal access to my gift for words. When I sat with him, whether in his home or in the hospital, I felt a complete lack. I did not know what to say or how to say it. I sat and held his hand and looked into his eyes, but I always felt that I provided little comfort. But here’s the thing I’ve carried… shame. When I held his hand as he lay in his hospital bed, lung capacity too weak to push out words, I was not fully present. As I held his hand, I thought about the fear I carried for a disease on which I had been well-educated. I knew that holding his hand was zero risk for my wellness, and yet I can recall leaving the room and washing my hands with urgency. The only real threat was to him… my germs could compromise his health, and not the other way around. I would give anything to be able to sit with him again with the presence, compassion, and understanding I now possess.

I asked Kirby for his forgiveness, and even now, I can almost hear his voice. “Oh, Melissa. There is nothing to forgive!” As he tilts his head, glances at me with compassion, and offers me that gorgeous grin… tears flow, and I know that this is happening inside my head, and also that this is real.

When I lead a meditation, my main worry is whether the silence I offer is long enough for a message to be received, or so long that I lose the mindful attention of those I’m hoping to lead. When Kirby faded into the veil, I ended the silence with these words…

We know that time moves differently in the Underworld, and that though we long to be with our loved ones, we know that now is not that time. Tonight is a moment when time stands still, and here we were blessed to connect between the worlds.

But time will move on and we shall go with it. Much like when we connect in the realm of the living, it feels as if no time has passed… so will be the day when they come to greet us and take us from the temporary realm to the eternal.

Until then… we honor them by choosing to live in joy and happiness. It would be an insult to their sacrifice not to.

We made our way out of sacred space the same way we came in, and we shared the stories of our experience. We cried together, and we amazed one another with knowledge of healing offered and received between the worlds.

The next day, a meditation informed everyone of a gift from Persephone. We were all given a garnet pomegranate seed, in the form of a teardrop bead attached to a small silver ring. The symbolism was that we would be offered safe passage any time we wished to connect with our loved ones, and when our time comes, we, too, will be received and initiated by Her love.

We then took the gift we were given, and selected a series of other beads to encircle our wrists in the form of a bracelet that would forever remind us of this time we’ve shared at the edge of the underworld.

The final piece of the remembrance portion of the retreat was to write the names of those we had invoked onto gathered autumn leaves. We drove to a nearby river, walked to the center of the bridge, and blew kisses into the wind, as our leaves floated down and around, returning our beloveds to the eternal flow of the river that separates us.

When we returned to the mountain house we now recognized as home, some of us stepped into the kitchen, and continued the preparation of a true Thanks-Giving meal. When my hosts suggested a full turkey dinner with all the sides, I thought it sounded great, but I hadn’t really considered the symbolism.

We were at the end of our time together. We twelve had chosen to be vulnerable and authentic. We supported and celebrated transition and transformation. We cried together, and we built a bond that transcends time and space. We agreed that we wanted to do this again. And we gave thanks for all of it.

The day before these gorgeous beings gathered, I started a seven month course on Holding Space Leadership, and our course creator and guide, Heather Plett, shared with us a poem. As she read these words, I understood that I would share them, too. They are perfection. So, before we sat down to our final full-togetherness, I read these words to my courageous and wonderful guests, and now… I offer them to you.

Blessing for a New Beginning by John O’Donohue

In out of the way places of the heart
Where your thoughts never think to wander
This beginning has been quietly forming
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.
For a long time it has watched your desire
Feeling the emptiness grow inside you
Noticing how you willed yourself on
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.
It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the grey promises that sameness whispered
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent
Wondered would you always live like this.
Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream
A path of plenitude opening before you.
Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life’s desire.
Awaken your spirit to adventure
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

Each farewell the next morning took away a little piece of my heart, in the form of longing and protection. And by noon, we were three again. We set to the task of breaking the set, and packing it up. Our journey down the mountain would come the next morning, and there was much to do.

Gratefully, the universe rewarded me with a little more time with my dear hosts, who drove over from their daughter’s home. I was pleased to share my gratitude for the remarkable journey we had all shared in this beautiful space that held us all in warmth and love. And because it is what sacred gardeners do, I planted seeds of intention for two retreats in 2020. My life-long friend took notes during our eleven hour drive home, on our ideas for how to manifest more self-love at Beltaine next May. I can’t wait to light that candle and dedicate that hearth to bless, once again, the journey we will share.

Thank you for walking this path with me. I’m so happy to be here with you for this brief moment in time. May the season of light bring you an abundance of blessings.

Persephone’s Passage

A Journey Into the Underworld

Part Three of a Manifestation Story

When the sacred ceremony for our beloved Crone was complete, we shared a delicious meal that our hosts had prepared for us, and when we were warm and well-fed, we gathered at the heart of the house, beside the hearth fire.

I spoke of my gratitude for this remarkable gathering of those who have been walking this path with me all year, and those who walked with me long ago. I lit the candle of my intentions, with the word RETREAT front and center. I asked my travelers to close their eyes as we grounded ourselves into the present moment, and then we moved our minds into a sacred grove of trees to which we would return throughout the weekend. This circle of ancient beings held space for each of us as we remembered those we have loved and lost. They reached out their branches to us and begged to hold symbols of our love, as we pulled photos and trinkets from imaginary pockets. Into each tree our love and longing was gently placed. And then, we opened our eyes to dedicate these intentions to the Ancestors’ Altar before us. We each pulled out photos and placed them upon the mantle and hearth, as we called the names and shared stories of those we love beyond the veil.

And as we felt the honor and arrival of each soul into our circle, we bid them a warm welcome, and eventually made our way into warm beds and deep sleep.

Saturday morning brought the sunshine and a report from our Crone that she slept soundly without the burden she once carried. Once we were all awake and ready to return to our work, we circled at the hearth once more. As I was preparing for this retreat, I thought of our intention to journey into the underworld to spend some time connecting with our lost beloveds. What came to mind for me at the thought of gathering with my ancestors was the idea of which I’d read, that we can choose to heal what had been passed down the family line, and effectively heal that wound in both directions – past and future.

In my Mabon workshop, for the Autumn Equinox, we did a cord cutting ceremony. We cut the cords that remained tied to those who had harmed us, or to ideas of who we SHOULD be based on the beliefs of others. When we were done, many felt that we could spend more time on this, because there were more cords to be severed. So, it was an easy decision to make this a part of our retreat. I loved the idea of sitting with my grandmother and letting her know that I had chosen to heal this familial trauma for myself, for my mother, for her, and for all of our relations throughout time.

This ended up being more powerful than I had imagined. It turns out, some of us are really conscious of what is holding us back, and can easily see how it may have been passed down through generations.

The ceremony took some time, because it needed to be focused for each and every one of us. I cut the cords for one of our Tribe members, and then she stepped forward to wield the sword of surrender for all others. As each sacred soul stepped forward, they were asked:

Are you ready, willing, and able to sever, release, and retract any and all cords attached to people, places, events, emotions, feelings, fears, traumas, and unknown and unseen forces that bind you and your familial line, that keep you from living fully present and in joy? “I AM!”

Do you who are holding space in this sacred circle offer your loving support and positive energy toward the safe, healing endeavor of our dedicant, for her/his highest good and for the good of all? “WE DO!”

Will you allow and receive the loving assistance and positive energy of those surrounding you who are holding space for you in loving light, who offer their energy for the highest good of you and for all? “I WILL!”

Do you wish to name aloud or silently those people, places, events, emotions, feelings, fears, traumas? “SAY THEM ALOUD OR STATE THAT YOU ARE DOING SO IN SILENCE”

As I wield the sword of surrender to symbolize the cutting of these cords – be they many or few – see in your mind’s eye the cords being swiftly cut with grace and ease, and then witness each cord being retracted into your being and simultaneously into the being or representation of what formerly bound you. As each cord recedes and retracts, send it with love and with gratitude, for each of those cords represented a lesson and a growth opportunity. Let that being or representative know that you are finished with this lesson, that you are no longer holding on, and that you wish them peace.

Space Holders Chant:  And it all just falls away. And it all just falls away.

When s/he feels it is finished, dedicant says: “Thank you. It is done!”

As the sword of surrender waved through the air that surrounded each of us, it symbolically cut away our attachment to the stories of betrayal, abandonment, abuse, unworthiness, not-enough-ness, unlovableness. We cut the cords of mental illness, of addiction, of perfectionism, of estrangement, of drama, and poor choices we’ve made, as well as those made by others which caused us suffering and turmoil. We cut and cut and cried and cried.

And when everyone had been freed from these bonds, I became “Someone’s Priority” once more, and the words were spoken and the sword was wielded for me.

Suddenly, as the work was done, I was surrounded by the embrace of this Tribe. This marriage of old and new had become one in the understanding of our sameness.

We can never look upon a single human and believe that we know the perfection of their lives. Every one of us carries a burden, tied to a past of longing. We each long to be free from suffering, and often believe we are alone. We carry the shame in silence, because we fear the thoughts and expectations of others. And yet, it is through the sharing that we are able to witness our similarities, and it is through being truly seen that we understand that the only shame is what we ourselves carry. When we have the courage to share in a safe space, it is as if each person present lifts a stone that once pressed down upon us, and we are once again able to breathe deeply and rise into our wholeness.

I was so honored to stand witness to the severance of cords and release of these beautiful beings. With tear stained faces, each fell into my embrace, and I was so proud of the hard work they had been willing to do for themselves. I was teased for making them cry, and I replied that my work was done! I only think a movie was good if it made me cry – because it means that it managed to touch me deeply. And so it is with sacred ceremony.

And another intention upon my candle was harvested… PASSION. This work is my passion. Holding space for others to do the work of their own healing is my passion. Standing witness to the beautiful and painful truth of my beloved community is my passion. Knowing that they each feel safe, seen, heard, held, and loved… is my passion.

There is still a bit more to tell, but I am emotionally spent on this glorious memory. I hope you’ll come back for more. Thank you for walking this path with me. I’m so glad you are here.

Misty mountain morning…