Death Comes To Us All

 In a world of chaos, I’m embracing death and change. Life and death, the cosmic balance of life that is something we used to know as a species, we’ve lost our way with it. Something about the knowledge that we will taste death does something to a person. 

I’ve walked with people (both personal losses and professional ones) who are on the path to death, seen the stages they pass through and the peace grows the closer they get. I’ve also seen in some cases, the fear and dread of leaving others behind, or not knowing what will come...this keeps us here for longer when we could pass in peace if we just accepted the stages of life as those stages. We will pass from this life into the next, and for that it’s inevitable. It’s something we CANNOT skip, or barter away. 

Many have tried to make deals with the devil for longer life, others seek the fountain of youth believing that it will keep the clutches of Death away from them for longer. But in the end, they met with Them, the One who walks with them intimately through a process of letting go, of holding onto freedom, and letting the change happen. It’s a gift, to be honest, to walk with people in those days and hours leading to death. I cannot believe that I was blessed to do so, but it’s given me a reflective nature on death that I wouldn’t have had otherwise. I think I’m more in tune with it than I realize...But It’s okay. 

I’ve become so closely acquainted with death, in the physical and spiritual forms, that I can say I am not nearly afraid of it like I had been. In fact, I can see the beauty of it, the unfolding of the steps like a forgotten rose left behind on the bush to waste away. But I’m here, to watch, to witness the glory and the passing. The way life is given, even in death, by the passing of all things. From the ashes of what’s passed on before, we rise up nurtured and strong.

Without the passing of the previous…we wouldn’t be here. There is something just beautiful in that to me. Knowing that I come from the ashes of life before, from all of life. Plants, animals, and humans alike, have nurtured me, and donated to my DNA…ashes to ashes, dust to dust. From the earth I come, and to the earth I’ll return. 

Mines & Ripples

Image from Unsplash

 I miss digging into the mists of my mind, to scavenge and mine like an explorer not afraid of what they’ll find. 

I drop words to the page, no matter my age, and when the secrets are revealed and healed, my words linger on.

I’m not a joke, nor a fad, nor one to hold back, I see what is there and my scribe is born.

I carry wisdom from pain, loss, and life’s circumstances, knowledge that only death and mistakes can bring. 

I lost my way, lost my understanding of life’s cycles and how healing is a personal thing done on the darkness and solitude of one’s own making.

I found my way back, the path hidden and dark ahead, one step in front of the other I gained my way to the truth

That without my darkness I am not whole, without my understanding I cannot heal forward. 

I train now on the water that was meant to drown me, my steps leaving ripples for others to follow my wake.

I see the ripples of those who went before, those who didn’t let cultures distance from life change them. 

A Year Makes Me

 Whoa, what a year this has been. These last three years have all felt intense. But 2022 has been a year of deep healing, and personal growth for myself and my business. 

I've unlocked doors to the pain I'd hidden so well that I didn't recall it until my mind and guides brought it up. 

I've lost several friendships, because of shifting beliefs and ideals (My own mostly).

I've put myself out there on multiple platforms and in multiple ways. Photography, tarot, spirituality, blog, videos. It's all a part of who I've been and who I'm becoming. 

Have you ever seen the other side of fear and grief? Like a door to waking up and seeing the reality of our entire existence and purpose? 

It’s like lifting a veil that you never knew was there and suddenly it’s all you can see. 

Truth is everywhere. 

True truth means people's pain and trauma speaking through their anger and rage, tears and grief. 

Humanity is a constant ball of emotions; all we’re trying to do is walk and live through this maelstrom with a semblance of happiness and fulfillment that feeds our souls in the darkness. 

Holy shit, run-on sentence, am I right? 

I’m journaling like it's my job, and maybe it is. All this deep written work and all the revelations hidden in the letters on the screen… like some alchemical magickal priestess and shaman of the new age. Someone who can use the tools of NOW to bring rise to the gods and humanity of OLD. But how does this translate and not overthink it too much? I love doing what I do and seeing what the words craft when I’m not paying attention and listening to the beat of music and dancing in place while words floor and fly off my fingers like I’m painting the world with my intention with each stroke and each strike. I love this. It’s so… freeing, I guess, to see this happen.

Summer Longs For Autumn

This is an unedited image, from our amazing Arizona evening skies, thanks to Summer Monsoons. 

 Drifting mind and dark aesthetics 

Cozy browns and golden hues

Misty fog and trailing raindrops

The rasp of fingertips on aged paper

Tucked into the folds of an adventurous novel

The academic finds her soul in the depths of a darkened bookstore

Summertime Lessons

Heavy weight of heat and bogs

My soul does not delight in the bright 

It longs for the dark, the cool, the hidden

To be amongst the stars and dirt

Summertime is not my favorite

But in this season I lean into the cave

I embrace the wild monsoon when she comes

The wind greets me like an old friend

Grandmother Elm weaves and dances her song

There is beauty, and my soul is thankful

For deep within the bright golds and yellows 

I find my browns and rusts.

Even this season brings gifts and messages

I can finally see 

drawing into myself

During the Summertime

Is okay

The sun heals, even through time and space

Through the heat, I cut ties

What isn’t meant to be will not

And letting go is also okay

Summertime is to let go

The Darker half of the year is 

Where my soul longs and lives

Breeding Arrogance VS Mother Earth

 

We breed this arrogance into our bones, like its nothing.

Every drip, every generation, every seed carries this arrogance like it’s our right.

We challenge those who don't have it, who want nothing more than to connect to each other and to the earth.

We see them through eyes of self indulgence, and self importance.

Forgetting that as they inhale, we exhale.

Forgetting that every step we take directly affects those around us.

Even the earth feels our influence.

We wonder why there is this break and pain with the Earth and her people.

It’s because we fanned the flames of self more than we fanned the flames of community and peace.

Find the peace within, regain that connection to Earth and hear her heartbeat.

Feel her breath on your cheek.

Don’t shy away from it when it’s uncomfortable.

Mother Earth deserves to be heard, in all her forms and fashions.

Mother Earth is the original #metoo survivor and we must believe her for her to heal.

For us to heal.

For us to prosper and be the balance we were made for.

There is no Earth without us, and no us without Earth. 

I Had To Go Outside To Write This Post

 This was not the post I set out to publish today. I had spent time setting up another post, including an outline. Then I lacked inspiration to write it. Old Peggy would skip it, allowing an old record to play of her lack of follow through. 

I sent that Peggy on vacation; she needed one. 

Honestly, any post would not be written at my desk today. Outside I went, the cloud filled blue sky peeks through Grandmother Elm's branches and vibrant green leaves. A dove couple high up top coo to each other, the love and comfort between them loud and clear in their calls. 

Being outside, writing this post by hand, I've already learned something. Going slower than I would type - I expected to be frustrated. As the sunlight dances on the page, I realize this is like savoring a rare vintage. Slowing down, as the wind did just now- to taste and feel each word. Only the best comes forward, knowing this is the right time. 

Moisture is in the air, all of nature can feel it. A secret running under the eyes of humanity, an intrisict ability all life carries. Even humans. 

We've lost our touch with Nature, gone is the balance and connection, lost to time and space. 

Or is it?

A moment under Grandmother Elms' limbs, and I'm here. Present. In the moment. Words want to capture it all, but this intimate knowing can only be felt and experienced. 

It's the hottest part of the day, a time I'm rarely found outside. Yet here I am - seeing how nature dances, sings, and lives in spite of the heat. 

Live - in spite of. 

The purpose of this post...I've lost it. And that's okay. 

Maybe we both needed the reminder to live. 

Live in spite of all that's against you. 

Live because it's the most scary, intense, freeing, and joyful experience of your life. 

I'm also secretly hoping it'll start raining, so I can dance in it. It'll be the first rain of the season. 

(As of the typing of this, no rain has fallen on Peggy, much to her dismay. She promises to alert the media once this monumentous moment happens. Stay tuned!) 

I question, is this a 'good enough' post? Does it have a point? Does it repeat to much? Why do I repeat things?

And then I remember to breathe. . .breath through the emotions and thoughts. But don't hold it too long. 

My intuition speaks louder these days. Her voice the first I hear and trust now. She is a gift that cannot be thanked enough. As I follow her, listen to her, walk guided by her, I am finding parts of myself along the way. Parts that are being healed and put back. One day soon, I'll be able to see and experience my wholeness. Its timing doesn't bother me. 

As fate has perfect time and sense. 

So I lean into my intuition. I hear and live by her. Through this scary and challenging journey, I am healing. And how can I be dismayed over that, when the taste of freedom and being whole feels so damn right?  

Opening My Creative Doors!

 I’m doing it. It’s done. It’s set up and ready to go. By the time this post is live, my photography doors will be open. (Check it out here!)

It feels small in the grand scheme of things, and I’m not blind to what’s going on in the world these days. But doing this for me, carving out my spot to just be me, feels right. This is the time, crazy and uncertain as it is. This is my golden hour, my blue hour, my best seller status, my higher calling. 

I can feel the change slipping through my fingers like gentle waves against the shore. With each release is a recapture of what once was, and what can be. A reminder that she's still in here, still breathing the life through all the fuckery that came before. 

This feels both the biggest and the smallest step I’ve ever made, and I can see the other big/small steps that led me here. Each step seemed wrong, didn’t fit with the previous steps I’d taken. The previous roads I started down. Yet here I am, on another precipice, feeling the strong winds of the past and future fighting over which direction I fall. 

Every precipice is an opportunity to soar, to fight the currents, the glide and to fall. Every precipice leads to the next one, and each one grows bigger and smaller at the same time. 

Leading up to the launch of this web shop, I've faced challenges that threatened to turn me off course. To pull me into questioning the validity of my life and passions. Again, I'm reminded over and over that the Universe has me. That these things strengthen myself, heal things, and move in the right direction. I've leaned into journaling and speaking with safe people in these times, and the support and gift of friendships is astounding. 

Where am I going with this? 

I expected this post to turn out differently, but it turned out how it's supposed to. Full of truth and the reality of where I'm at. The mess that life makes when one is trying to live according to their intuition. It's not always pretty. In fact, I suspect that living a life such as this redefines beauty and truly living. It transforms us from passive spectators to the valiant heroes we've longed to be. 

Heroes of our own stories, our own personal heroes' journey. There's a part of the story called the Dark Night of The Soul. In this part, the hero takes time to process everything that's happened. They are usually worse off and questioning everything. This is just before the hero finds the solution to the problem and learns their lesson. (Take loosely from Save The Cat! Writes A Novel, by Jessica Brody pg. 26) This is where I'm at, where I've been, for months now. Each event, each step, has carried its own moment before the dawn and this feels like another one.  

Making my space in the world, and trusting the intentions I've spoke aloud into becoming, fills me with a wildly beating heart that is truly breathing fully for the first time in decades. Welcome to the space I've made to heal my inner child, my inner teen, and all aspects of myself. Through creativity, I soar and dance with the cosmos.