Greetings from the Void
I am deep in Death-card energy.
I’m firmly in the chrysalis, with all of my parts dissolving into energetic goo, reminding myself not to struggle. I’ve had difficulty finding words these past months - as an introvert HSP, it’s tricky knowing which stories to share and which to hold close. But yesterday Spirit whispered that I should share my stories - that they are important and someone may benefit from knowing they’re less alone. So I’m here, in all my messiness, sharing with you. Thank you for meeting me in this liminal space, friends.
This is a meditation on transitions, growth, old stories, letting go, and expanding.
I should begin by saying that I’m no stranger to the shadows and the liminal places. In many ways, I feel at home in the dark - it’s much easier to hide than to allow oneself to be seen, particularly when being seen is unsafe. That’s something that I learned in childhood - and something that I’ve been working so hard to let go of. Sometimes I find myself wanting to dive back down into the dark, to do more shadow work, to find the “why” behind the stories so that I can understand them better. Until the shadow work itself becomes the identity. The old story of brokenness dressed up in new clothes. Old habits and identities are tricky like that. They don’t want us to let go.
And yet we must learn to let them go. The past decade of my life has been filled with the shedding and reworking of old stories - stories that I’ve been holding on to since childhood. Stories that sprouted up around me like weeds, later becoming gnarled, thorny vines that twisted around my body and curled around my heart. Protecting me - in their way - from a childhood colored by the trauma of feeling unwanted, cast aside, growing up with alcoholic caregivers and falling prey to sexual predators. A childhood that was filled with loneliness and fear, but also touched by the joyful magic of spending time alone in nature - where I felt safe and held. Spirit and the Ancestors spoke to me freely when I was alone with the trees - though I didn’t have the language to name it at that time. I just knew that when I laid my body down on the earth, I felt safe. And when I stood with my back against the trees in the forest, their strength moved through me -comforted me - and I felt less alone.
Now is a time of Re-Membering.
As I continually work to release these old stories - to break free from the vines that sheltered my heart and silenced my voice - I’m rediscovering all of the lost parts of myself. I’ve faced old demons and spent countless hours shadow-working harmful beliefs. I’ve dedicated time to journaling, meditation, therapy, and processing with loved ones. I’ve found gold hidden in the darkest places. And the journey continues. I used to think that I would eventually reach my final destination on this path, fully healed - no scars. I wondered why it was taking so long to reach that place. But I realize now that this notion of being completely healed is illusory. We don’t ever get rid of our past - or our pain. It’s part of who we are. We simply learn to live alongside it. We make room for it - invite it to sit with us at the table. We offer it a cup of tea and a hug. We talk to it, show it empathy and compassion, and ask it what it needs. We listen. We take care of it as we would a loved one.
At nearly 44, I’m finally learning to live alongside my grief. Making space for it to exist in my life (rather than hiding it away) allows me to become more fully myself. It allows me to remember who I am - and who I want to become. It shows me that I am already (and always) on this path of becoming - even when I feel unsure of my footing.
I am learning to honor the flames of renewal.
I feel as though the fire of rebirth has burned constantly in the background of my life, insistent. Sometimes flaring brightly and other times smoldering so low that I could - forget - for a while. We settle into those moments, don’t we? We embrace that sense of balance - that sense of peace - when we can. Until we reach another threshold and the flames lick up around us once again, throwing off our balance and forcing us to wake up - to open our eyes. I’ve tried to ignore its call more often than I’d care to admit. Still, it finds me and calls me back to the path.
This year the journey feels different - more intense, insistent, demanding that I pay attention. Do you feel this, too? Everything seems to have shifted into high-gear. For me, the menopause transition - or, as I prefer to think of it, the menopause initiation - is pulling me deeper into the chrysalis. I’m also in a Justice year (which I’ll write about soon). Spirit is asking me to walk in right relationship with my soul’s truth - and to listen to and honor my Intuition. It’s a time of important (necessary & difficult) endings - endings that I know will create space for new beginnings but which are painful nonetheless. I can no longer ignore the call to let go of those relationships and projects that don’t align with who I’m becoming. I’ve been questioning everything - from my creative practice to how I embody my role as a parent, teacher, and guide. So much upheaval, which evokes a feeling of relief alongside a fear of the unknown.
As a result of all of these physical, emotional, and spiritual shifts, I’ve been facing deep grief - and in 2025, the grief of personal loss is occurring alongside planet-wide social and ecological collapse. (Deepest gratitude to Carmen Spagnola for giving me the language for this.) Again and again, I remind myself that growth and change must happen - are happening - and I can either move with this process or fight against it. It’s a lot to manage and sometimes I feel like I need to hide in my room until everything blows over. But I have a child and a life and work to do in the world. So each day I get up and do my best.
It’s rough, friends. The world is a scary place right now. I know you know this.
The world is also a beautiful place.
Sometimes I forget this and I need to step into a space of remembering. Remembering to hold space for joy. Remembering that decomposition makes new growth possible. Remembering that the discomfort, pain, and grief are necessary parts of the process. Reminding myself not to run from the discomfort - and to trust my intuition.
It’s so easy to turn to others for advice at times like this. But I know that what I need the most is to deepen in to my Knowing. I need to listen to my inner voice - something that I’ve lost, then found (several times over, perhaps). I’m heeding the call to begin my solo journey on this path of renewal - listening to my body, my spirit, my knowing, and making space for Spirit and ancestors to come through. Deepening into archetypal wisdom, holding space for my own liminality.
I don’t have any words of wisdom about how to manage these transitions with grace. If you’re in it, I’m in it alongside you. If you’re facing your own transitions - shedding old skins - you’re not alone. We are walking our own paths, but we’re in these portals together.
Sending you love and solidarity through the ether, friends.
This website is a portal of connection - please reach out if you feel called.