Stories that wake the dead


This is me, October of 2014. The day after this picture was taken, the event that changed my life happened. When I see this version of me, I am so sad. I miss her. She is gone. I mourn her...grieve her...and often feel lost without her.

She was silently suffering. Living in denial of unhealth. Proudly holding on to fierce independence. I like seeing the delicious secrets held in those eyes. I miss the self-safety I felt in being so unavailable.

I miss this version of me. I look at this picture and see the me I've been trying to restore for the last two years. But, she is no longer alive in me, and I still tell stories of her like she is. This is like waking the dead...keeping dead energy within me alive in story to live decayed and never rest into the great threshold of the death process to find a new evolution of being.

Truth's painful to not change when life brings change. Truth is...sudden change is never sudden. The blackout that shook my safety happened the day after this picture was taken and it was the "sudden" change that made my condition no longer something I could hide or continue avoiding. That sudden change was a good 2 years in the making. Therefore...truth is...I am not a victim to Life's shitty shit...I am a victim of my own poisonous denial and avoidance.

I received a great word medicine from the bull Elk spirit whose hide I worked for my recent drum making circle. He gave me this message, "No one is 'too good' or 'above it'. If it's in front of you, you can deal with it. Self righteous carries a poison of avoidance." The pride I carry in being proud of who I once was is keeping me from being proud of who I am now. To be totally honest, I'm not thrilled of who I am now because I miss the woman I was. I'm not seeing the power in who I am right now versus the power I once had. And to be brutally honest with myself...the bull Elk is right...the pride I feel as poison is using self righteous-rise above it to avoid the truth that this version of me has passed and I'm not being who I am in my story of NOW as fully as I could be to be proud of who I am.

It's time to move on. It's time to Mother the part of me that keeps whining about how I'm not who I was. And I just realized...I'm holding on to this because it's the first time in my life I haven't wanted to move on or forget a past version of myself. Whoa...hell yeah...what a whollop of perspective! Holy shit! Yep...I've always been happy to bury the dead within me and begin again and start a whole new story with a whole new character. What an interesting feeling to actually want myself...even if just a part of me that has died. Whoa. I feel lighter...more understanding of the resistance...and more spacious around the grief I feel for the part of me I need to let die.

"Resistance is the guide."~Nissa

(from the oracle deck I'm creating) what? Well, I hear my inner wise woman pointing me in the direction of my words "it's like waking the dead". The stories I tell myself about the story of this version of me can either be the narrative of the open wounded or the scarred warrior. I have been silently allowing the open wounded narrative be in charge the last few years and it's been painfully disempowering. Truth is...disempowered is place born of limited perspective. Truth is...shift even ONE step out of that line of sight I have a ton of new things to see that will empower me. Truth is...I am never disempowered when I chose to keep moving. 

All this to is not good energy conduct to wake the dead selves. It is not respectful of who I am now, nor who I once was to keep them in a living dead situation within me. It IS beautiful to let what has died, honor it by crossing it over, and giving it back to the great mystery from which it came. It IS empowering to watch it release it's form and return to it's spirit. Past parts of me evolving into spirit guides for my current and future me. And like any psychopomping action, once crossed over, they are limitless possibilities. Why couldn't this version of me I miss so much be elevated to a voice of higher Self? (the answer is the question)


This is me today. This morning actually. Sitting by my Yule tree with my foster dog, Buddy Junior. This is me...sitting in love and opening to being loved. This is me, moving in the direction of changing with the change. To the me I am today I say...I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I'm sorry I've been pining for the version of me that died. I'm sorry I've not been seeing your qualities and the beauty you bring to Life. Please forgive me. I love you.

What version of you has died this year? How do you honor it? What have you done with it? What would you like to say to who you are now? I'd love to hear your voice if you feel called to share. Comment below!

Blessed be,