Dancing with Death #3

Can we catch our patterns in times of transition?

When I find myself in a big transition, my mind switches into hyper-vigilant overdrive to keep me safe. I’ve been aware of this pattern for years now. It comes and goes and I have the tools to support myself through it and most of the time I can navigate it with grace. But from time to time, blind spots arise and it creeps back up and tries to take control.

The pattern works like this: A voice comes in to constantly analyze all the angles when I try to take a risk or do something new. It puts so much pressure on me to get it right. To keep me safe. It’s an anxious voice that thinks if I worry and stress enough, I’ll avoid the pain. The type of energy that paralyzes me into inaction.

I found myself spinning out and felt it deeply in my physical body but couldn’t quite grasp what was happening.

I felt pulled from presence and from fully embracing the new adventures I am on.

I felt so frustrated.

I let so much die away in my life just to get myself on the damn plane to answer the call of this journey. Now I’m here and these old patterns are trying to come in and sabotage it?

Fortunately, I am blessed to be involved in many spaces of supportive sisterhood and I had this blind spot illuminated for me.
A supportive community is key in these moments because they can reflect those blind spots you may not catch on your own.

I realized that this voice, this energy, can’t come with me where I am headed.

I have to digest those thoughts and let them go. Break it down and bury it.

The suggestion was given for me to hold a death ceremony for this part of me and of course, I lit up.

Yes, this I knew how to do.

I would take the time to honor this part that has helped me get to where I am now. It has protected me and kept me safe. Then allow it to go so new ways of thinking can come in.

But I didn’t really have a specific plan for it yet, just the intention in my heart.

The thing about ceremony is that sometimes it can be this extravagant planned event and other times it just grabs ahold of you.

That night, something opened the grief and I began to cry. I held myself as I wept. I reached for my journal and fear purged all of the worried thoughts onto paper. I let that voice have her time to speak. After getting it all out I felt exhausted, in a good way. A bit lighter. And thirsty.

I nourished myself, rubbed my body with oil, and tucked myself into bed.

The next morning I rushed to a massage appointment I forgot I had booked. I booked it in the spirit of taking care of myself but then that voice came in and told me I didn't deserve it. So I forgot. But since I was now letting that voice die, I went anyway.

I was in Lago del Garda in Italy and I thought I booked an exfoliating massage but the universe (and translation errors) had other plans.

When I got in the room, I got on the table and instead of being massaged in a soft and relaxing way, I found myself being slathered in thick hot mud, rich in minerals from the thermal waters of the area. A strong Italian woman was shoveling mud onto my body from a bucket. I was being covered completely and it was heavy and hot. She told me not to move and I was wrapped up and tucked in like a mummy and left to sweat and soak in the mud for 30 mins.

As I was left alone, unable to move, covered in the hot earth, feeling her weight… I instantly knew I was in the deepest part of this death ceremony. A full somatic experience presenting me with the opportunity to let it die.

I closed my eyes and began to breathe.

I envisioned this part of me that I can no longer take forward, being put into the ground. Covered in dirt and roses, surrounded by supportive spirits. I remembered all the moments it has served me, where I developed it and why. I thanked it for everything, reciting a eulogy of sorts.

I allowed my body to receive the nourishment as I knew things were changing. Tears and sweat flowed as I connected to my breath and body. It was a bit uncomfortable but also felt so good.

Letting it go, letting it go, letting it go.

After some time, I was uncovered and the mud was washed away. I got into a tub of thermal water and soaked. Continuing to allow the alchemical process to take place in my mind, body, and spirit.

I went to the lake after and allowed myself to feel into what was being reborn from the mud. Trusting that when I allow that part to rest, the new life I need to move forward will come.

I believe we can die and be reborn many times if we allow it. This natural process is always occurring. Sometimes it shows up as a big external, gut-wrenching, event. Or it can show up as an internal process.

Day in and day out we have the chance to live, die and be reborn.

I hope this story serves as an invitation for you to allow whatever may be asking to die, to invite you into a deeper alchemical process. It’s so much juicier than holding on.

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Do you have a story on life, loss, and transition to share?

Email me at belovedgateway@gmail.com to schedule a no-cost story session. I am here to witness you in your process and in your power.
My gift to you. <3

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