I was shocked by how much relief I felt when I received my card.
Rosehip, the Death Maiden.
The one who gets to just be with everything she has ever gathered. Everything she created. Everything she learned. She gets to be with it.
I thought I'd be afraid of a death card. And yet all I could feel was relief. The exhale. The arrival of the break I didn't have to make happen anymore.
It had all been done. I could be immersed in the truth of the experience, rather than striving for whatever I needed to do next. Rather than making sure I did it the right way, so I could finally feel like it was enough.
The relief was shocking. It still is.
It keeps showing me how far away I get from sitting in my own wisdom. My own stillness. My own enoughness. My own magic and medicine.
Then, as I was leaving, I received a second card. Still Power.
My body had a twinge of fear. Oh my gosh, now I have to sit still.
And once again, the relief. Of getting to embody everything I have lived. Of knowing it's enough.
In so many ways, it was permission to die. Death in the way that everything as I know it can be done. That if I really did die tomorrow, I could be okay.
And that this fcking guy needs a break. Over and over again.
Then the summer came
Both cards came through in unexpected and challenging ways.
I found myself in the car outside of summer camp, breathing and crying and losing it. The frustration, the fear, the overwhelm. Then taking a deep breath, getting out of the car, and moving on with the next right action.
I went on like that for months.
What I let die
Being who I am, the image of having it together has been so strong.
And the inability to receive support and ask for help is a through line in my life.
And here I was. Bottomed out, exhausted, sick, emotionally spent. Challenged in a way I hadn't been in years. Telling people, clearly, that I was walking through one of the hardest moments of my life.
And I was.
There's something about walking through the hard and the pain and the challenge, reaching the other side, and knowing I could survive it.
And also knowing there's no ending.
It's a lemniscate. An infinity loop. Learning and relearning the lessons I came here to learn, the lessons you came here to learn. Your own individual, unique life curriculum. It's going to show up and show up and show up, in whatever way it does.
So here's what I'm letting die.
The hold of how much I must carry. How much I expect from myself. How much pressure I put on myself, because I think it's necessary, because it keeps me on top of things.
When I let it go, it really doesn't matter. The things I put pressure on myself for, I really have no control over.
Nothing is promised. Nothing is promised.
What's living now
As things settled and I found my own rhythm, so much became clear.
It really is about less for me.
It really is about how I can fill my own cup. Not just so I can be of service, but so I can enjoy my life.
Powerful breakthrough after powerful breakthrough of living into the death.
And this summer prepared me to step in again. To commit to ordination, and to be ordained this coming summer.
So I'm on a unique thread right now. A unique walk in this next bit of time, this next year, this next cycle. Moving in the direction of standing as a priestess.
So I'll ask you what I've been asking myself
How do I want to be in my life?
How do I want to show up? How do I want to be in the world?
How do I want to be with myself?
This is where Magic of Winter comes from.
Rosehip gets to be with everything she has ever gathered. Winter asks the same of us.
It’s coming straight out of these last 6 months. Deep medicine for all of us, including me. Connection with what is. And what is, is nature.
Doors open December 1. We begin at the winter solstice, December 21.
May all beings everywhere be free.
All my love,
Aleen