The Debris from 2023
Still standing.
It’s too soon to have a sense of how the contours of 2023 will look in the larger context of my life. Like most years, it was a little bit of everything: good, bad, and ugly. Maybe a little more ugly than average. Though certainly not without the good. I’m saying that more for me than for you: I need to remind myself of the good there was. There were many drives from the VOC to West Sedona where I nearly wept in awe of the beauty of this place that I call home right now. There were expectations I held that lead to a lot of disappointments. There were a handful a huge, life-altering moments that deserve more care and attention than living on this page at this time.
It was slow. Sometimes beautifully so. Sometimes painfully so.
One of the most significant relationships of my life blossomed— with my beloved desert.
One of the other most significant relationships of my life continued to blossom, with Shelby. We made as much sense of it as we could. Platonic intimacy. Dharma sisters. Spiritual soulmates. Best friends. Beloveds. Business partners. We live around the corner from each other— an unplanned but welcome miracle. We play, we dance, we sauna, we chant, we create, we cook for each other, we share a car, we cry, we laugh, we do ritual, we do ceremony, we do energy work. For most of this year, our relationship has been like this poem from Trista Mateer:
“I don’t need you to tell me
that I am loved or whole or good.
I need you to watch me
wade into the river of my misery
and sit down at the bottom.
I need you to watch me
hold my breath.”
I realized in late February when a causal relationship ended that I was actually done casually dating. An unexpected amount of grief followed. This lead to a (as of December 2023, with no end in sight…) 10+ month journey of celibacy. Completely unintended, though certainly needed. I needed to unplug and detox from all of the sexual programming I had been indoctrinated into, and to do that I needed to really just be alone. This has allowed for a more devotional space to appear, which I hold with sanctity: the deeper truth that I am oriented to Motherhood and anything not in service to that mission has to fall away.
I stayed alcohol free, now for nearly 2 years. In Sedona it feels a bit like cheating. No one here really drinks, there is one bar in town. Nearly every event is a sober event. “Want to grab a drink” isn’t in any ones vernacular. I don’t hold this as some lifelong abstinence, it has been imperative that I navigate this particular season of my life as clear headed and present as possible. Plus, waking up with hangovers really sucks, eh?
In the summer, I finally admitted to myself that I was still very much at rock bottom. I wrote off all of 2022 as being there. When I woke up on January 1st of this year, I willed it be left behind. But, no, it was not yet behind me. It took me 10 months to crack 5-figures of income. On the outside, I’m sure it looked like depression. It wasn’t. I’ve been depressed before. I was deep in grieving so very many things: my childhood, friends I’ve lost, things I’ve done to my body, things other people have done to my body, teenage-dream-come-true of a life in the fashion industry in New York City (which I fulfilled and chose to leave behind), lack of resource, lack of choice because of lack of said resource, the bone-deep ache for partnership & union. Hours and weeks and months have been spent working with my nervous system. As sensations and memories come up, tenderly holding them and not making them wrong while also honoring that somethings really were not okay. Deeply, in a way I couldn’t look away from, wading through the relational carnage that has come from clearing personal and ancestral karma. The agony of the voids and in the next breath the dignity of the sacrificial offering. “Here, take it all, I’m giving it all up to the Goddess, this is my offering to clear this.” And the next breath: “Fuck, I gave it all away. So little is here yet to replace it.”
I cleared my nearly two decade long struggle with chronic cystic acne: turns out the best skin care is telling your truth and processing your trauma! On the subject of skin, I went an entire desert summer with out a nasty sunburn and no sunscreen thanks to developing a devoted relationship and respect for the sun, rather than avoiding him in fear.
I danced. I danced so much. I went to Zumba twice a week, and danced on the red rocks. I danced on zoom. I danced alone in my apartment. I danced naked with other women as bats flew overhead in the setting August sun at Rewild. Praying with my feet and my hips and my arms. Moving anger and grief. An offering to the altar of being alive.
I moved into the loveliest little home. It has perfect lighting, a wonderful kitchen, a bathtub, a deck, is in the quietest, sweetest neighborhood, and most importantly, it’s a 3 minute walk around the corner from my best friend/beloved/dharma sister. The stability this home has provided me is beyond words. It felt so out of reach, and then, poof, a reality.
I spent a lot of time crafting. Sewing, quilting, hand dying, embroidering— I am truly at my happiest when I have a project in my hands.
I finally got back into reading. I’m a part of two book clubs and that was what I needed: community. That got me finally into a swing of writing…
I rested.
I watched the full moon rise over the mountains each cycle.
I hiked a lot.
I found a new favorite haircut. I got my nose pierced, because why the hell not.
In July, I finished a 9-month training with Ancestral Medicine. This was a long time coming, and a huge accomplishment that I am very proud of. Lots of talking to dead people in the name of lineage healing in partnership with the other than humans. Truly, while biased, I recommend this practice to everyone.
Co-hosted two Rewilds with Shelby. In May 2022, when my life was in literal flames, I sent a voicenote to a friend sharing my dream and my desire to host women’s retreats. It became a reality so quickly and remains one of my greatest honors.
There moments when the floor became the ceiling. Then the ceiling became the ocean. Then the ocean became the stars. Then the stars became the heart of the Divine.
There have absolutely been moments when I’ve been up to my edge, and screamed or panted that this isn’t fair. Started to whine about how much it fucking sucks to have to do some of these things. Just when I get there, when my darling, beloved bratty teenage self, or my beyond exhausted, also deeply beloved, toddler self throws a temper tantrum, a little seed of love is planted right in from of me. Usually by my ancestors, sometimes by my dear friends and soul family, and sometimes by the vultures or the wind or the moon. These little seeds have been enough to keep me going.
The only thing that feels right to do as I prepare to walk into a new Gregorian year is to send out invitations. I invite more financial stability. I invite more movement. I invite my laptop to be closed more. I invite more family dinners. I invite more liberation. I invite someone to make love with.
I share this all to say: you’re not alone. Did you also have a shitty year? Even if differently shitty: kindness, hi, I see you, you’re not alone. I’m doing it a very different way than I planned. I’m doing it a very different way than other people planned/wanted for me. I’m not nearly the first, and certainly not the last to do it this way. The more I become unrecognizable to others, the more I recognize myself. Now, as others recognize me, I can begin to trust the me that they are recognizing.
You’re Invited…
I would love to have you be a part of the Ignite Your Intuition: An Initiation into the Mysteries of Mediumship cohort, we begin January 16th.
This is a 3-month hybrid group and 1:1 mystery school cohort. Join a group of folks who are remembering their innate ability to harness their intuition to communicate with their ancestors as well as our other-than-human kin. It’s a beautiful way to anchor into the New Year, after the joy & chaos of the holidays.
Together we will explore communicating with the unseen, creativity, ritual, altars, animism, boundaries, somatic, and energetic hygiene. You can read more here.
Let me know if you have any questions, happy to get on a call to walk you through the invitation.
I’ve just opened up a new offer to share with you: Mediumship readings!
Ancestral Mediumship is a form of connection and communication with the human dead. By allowing a connection with these Beings images, feelings, and messages can be transmitted to the living via the medium (me.)
Ancestral mediumship is a form of mediumship that focuses on asking questions and receiving answers from the field of consciousness from a clients ancestors of blood and bone.
A session can offer views and solutions in a way that is nurturing, loving, and with your specific destiny in mind. Other times, it can be a tender and powerful moment of reconnection with a loved one who has passed. Book a session here.