Intentions

As a Healer I am called at times to deeply share my journey. It is a way of giving death, of peeling away my carefully constructed life so I can dive deeper and rebirth both myself and my work. So many people see me as a person "who knows". I do carry with joy a certain wisdom and ancient knowing. AND, like everyone else, I experience periods of becoming undone, unraveled, and uncertain about my certainty.

Becoming undone usually heralds a time of initiation – and that is the crossroad where I now stand. I have been waiting so long for this next phase of my life. Lifetimes of waiting have made me reluctant to believe my time truly lies in front of me. I fear that as I take the next step, the whole thing may shatter or move out of reach once again. It’s so close I can almost touch it and I teeter on the precipice of right timing. It’s a delicate process.

Am I hesitating, or am I tuned into a sense of the right timing, which hasn’t quite arrived?

Can I really believe the stories that ancestors/Spirit have brought to me?

Will I be accepted by the world? Is the work I bring acceptable to Spirit?

Am I truly seeking allies to support my journey, or am I distracting myself to avoid stepping into this new level of truth and power?

How do I carry these questions with a sense of wonder rather than allowing them to haunt me?

My dream teacher, Valerie Wolf, told me that to truly understand a dream, you must see its beauty. I think this is true about almost everything in life. This initiation process I’m in has taken me to the dark shadowy valleys as well as the clear illuminated mountaintops in this my soul’s journey. And now, I am called to look at the weaving of light and dark and all the colors and textures within it. I am to find and celebrate its beauty. And Spirit tells me that I must share this initiation process with you in order to fully embody its lessons and perceive their beauty.

Writing and singing help me flow through difficult processes. And this initiation has held many difficulties: challenging the way I think about myself, throwing me into deep emotional wells, changing the way I physically carry myself in the world, and more. The craft of writing helps me find clarity. Reading my own story helps me view it outside myself and gives me perspective.

In the writing, I become a sacred witness of my own journey. In publishing these writings I am required to trust you, the reader, to join me as sacred witness. It’s a vulnerable place, this trusting. How will you judge me? How will your expectations of me change? How will my story inform your story?

One thing I am still certain of is that we are all in the same story. My story affects and is affected by your story.

And so, together we journey forth – let us do so with wonder, hope and the intention of celebrating beauty.