How can I explain to you the unexplainable? How can I put into words, that which made me speechless?
I recently returned from traveling to sacred lands and sacred water. As friends, family, and clients have asked me curiously “how was it?” I find myself struggling to put into words what has transpired over the last month.
It all started with the passing of my paternal grandmother that I wrote about HERE. Upon sharing my own story of the other side, family members confided in me that they too have had experiences with the other side. My grandfather showing up in dreams to give advice, always sitting on a bench like I too had met him. His hand on family members shoulders felt when spending time in my grandparents home. His chair, that a family dog constantly stares at, cocking its head as if someone is speaking to them. What is to be made of the people who confided in me, separate stories, overlapping with my own, and overlapping with each other? Stories and experiences we held silently for so long, somehow knowing they were true for us, and no space of which to speak of them. For our culture makes these kind of topics unspeakable...unthinkable...unimaginable.
“You’re my only safe space.”
“I knew you would understand.”
“You’re the only person I can speak to about these things.”
I hear these statements increasingly in my client work through cries, through sighs of relief, through laughter or recognition. For as I’ve allowed myself to embrace, to write about, to speak about the unspeakable, the beyond words, the extension of sight, so too have my clients found a space they never thought they could have to speak about the same. To acknowledge that there is so much more to life than meets the eyes. To affirm that mysteries abound and supporting hands are always working off stage for us. To assert that there are...no coincidences in life.
We’ve done a disservice to ourselves in modern culture. Throwing that which is not seen by the physical eye away as fantasy. Stigmatizing individuals with psychic and healing gifts as “woo woo” and discounting their experiences, their skills, and their innate wisdom. Even at times medicalizing as a mental problem, the ability to feel, to know, to experience that which is “irrational.”
Is it any surprise? History tells a troubling story. We have a long record of trials whereby women were drowned for being witches (a term that referred to the wise sages and healers in a community); native communities and their traditions were labeled savage, backwards, and un-evolved; and in a period of time not that long ago our attempt to deal with challenges in the mind or discomfort resulted in surgeries to remove parts of someone’s brain. The unseen, that which is unexplainable, that which is innately known, that which is nonlinear has been feared, outcast, and exiled for hundreds and some would say...thousands of years.
In many ways I participated in this myself laughing off the idea of psychics, seeing the realm of spirit as inherently evil, and viewing the ways of the unexplainable as either frightening or crazy. As life would have it, that which I found perhaps the most absurd, the most bizarre, the most unusual now makes up the very fabric of my being...and my truth.
I have changed. Not because I became a different person. I changed because I am becoming the person I never wanted to admit I was. I am.
Who is this woman? Who am I? I am beyond what I can type here. I am beyond what I could write in books for eons. We all are in our own way.
We’re just afraid of being that which is unexplainable.
To start, I can assert that I am a woman who:
Feels the feelings, the pains, and the thoughts of others.
Can see into other realms of existence.
Has conversations with relatives and ancestors that have transitioned to the other side.
Is guided by spirit guides and building a relationship with them.
Dreams dreams that see the future, soul travel to help others, heal the past, and receive guidance for the present.
Understands the mysteries of Mother Earth, the moon, and the animals that roam it as living symbolism, language, and teachings.
Knows her intuition and ancient knowing is embedded in her wombs. (Yes I have two...now I get why)
Soul journeys for answers for herself and for others.
Can see into the bodies of others, read, and tell their stories for healing, expansion, and evolution.
Opens the gates of past life memories and teachings for herself and others.
Uses the power of her mind and the elements to create and manifest into being.
Reads the signs and the syncornicies of the day in reverence to the spiritual guidance she receives to guide each step.
Knows she is a divination rod and receives answers in endless ways.
Isn’t afraid diving into the shadowy parts of herself and masterful at helping others with their shadows to facilitate ultimate integration and wholeness.
Is a priestess of many lifetimes and has come to complete this work left undone of healing, mystery, and magic with others.
Is a Sourceress, self-sourcing the love, adoration, and care that she desires in the world from...herself.
Knows the wisdom of the body and the keys to unlocking its unique ancient knowing for each person.
Loves the way communication is happening beyond words at all times.
Beyond labels AND is reclaiming, remembering labels/pieces of herself like witch, healer, shaman, priestess, channel, seer, oracle, writer, artist, sorceress, creatrix, goddess, and divine.
There is so much I want to say and not say at the same time. Ultimately the transition of my grandmother, the return to Avalon (Glastonbury in present day), and nourishment of my body in the sea of Mexico and on the land of pyramids was a final permission slip, push, Universal hug, and letting go to know its ok to finally be seen for who I truly am.
I cannot tell you the amount of fear that has been wrapped up around the layers of the metaphysical, mystical, magical, and mysterious layers of myself and whether they can be seen. First I was petrified for them to be seen by myself. Let’s call this a long phase of...denial. As this layer started to wear off and I gave myself permission to let the walls down and let the mystery in, I started thinking about whether it was safe for other people outside myself to truly see me.
For a long time I wondered if it was safe for my friends to see. Safe for my family to know. I wondered if a partner would get me. I questioned whether my corporate clients would no longer take me seriously. If my coaching and healing clients would think it’s all “too much.” As someone who has prided myself on being grounded, down-to-earth, and practical, I wondered if somehow being truly seen would discount the fact that I am mystical, magical, mysterious, AND grounded, down-to-earth, and practical. This kept me at a standstill for a long time. A very….long time.
Then, I couldn’t ignore it. Obvious signs and shocking incidents brought the metaphysical in my life front and center for myself and others. I removed the layers and allowed myself to be seen in my current partnership. (Kinda hard to avoid that when you’re constantly doing metaphysical things ALL the time.) I shared stories with my parents to test the waters and see if they would listen to me or discount me with an error of “we’re concerned about you.” I started talking more about my work more with others and how I incorporate past life work, conversations with family members, spirit guides, and the intuitive mystery of the body. I gave myself permission to start using the wider tools in my toolbox beyond traditional coaching and healing. I integrated snippets into my joy tips. I shared card pulls, meditative journeys, and intuitive journaling in my corporate workshops. And it felt...so good.
While on the magical land of mystical Avalon and current day Glastonbury, I was honored to witness women declare, speak, say, what was unspeakable. To shout out their own versions of “I am a witch, priestess, sourceress, healer, channel, seer, goddess” (fill in the blank). I watched us cry and laugh. I watched us all sigh sighs of relief for finally having space to be seen. And I let go.
There is something quite profound about being on land, in an environment, with a community, and with a mentor where you can be who you truly are. While I’ve had mentors hold space for me where I was safe to be seen and I’ve had a circle where I can declare who I am, I’ve never had all the pieces of the matrix, one could say, line up to experience zero resistance. Zero fear. For I was in a modern day city, on ancient spoken land, with sisters of past life times, and with a fierce mentor who models this openness herself and magic was normal...not crazy. Spirit was integrated, not separate. Seeing was understood to be beyond the physical eye. In this cauldron of a miracle, I quietly cracked wide open and I haven’t wanted to close...since.
It felt sacred. Unspeakable. It’s why I stayed quiet. Why I avoided conversations with friends. Didn’t share stories on Instagram. And why every time I sat down to write...nothing came out.
In many ways, I felt scared that if I spoke about this indescribable experience, I feared it might be less real. Now I know differently. For through writing this to share with all of you, I have reinforced, fortified, and expanded that which I’ve been feeling deep down in my cells.
It...Is...Safe...To...Be...Seen.
And in knowing it is safe to be seen and therefore, safe to be...I pray, I chant, I ask, that you too may start to feel the same.
Start with yourself. Consider all the pieces that you are not allowing to be seen by yourself and give yourself permission for them to be seen. Whether they are metaphysical in nature like mine, creative, sexual, quiet, or bold, tear down the walls.
For this week’s Joy Tip Wednesday, I want to invite you to exercise knowing it is safe to be seen. Write down all the pieces that feel scary to see, to acknowledge. Notice, what feels too much, too little. What feels different, like they don’t “fit” with the others, or with society? Recollect all the pieces. Maybe labels and archetypes help. Maybe its a longer run on story and sentences. Pour the secret pieces, chambers, and essences of your heart out onto paper in a sacred ceremony where only you can see. What lights you up, inspires you, sparks you? In your own way, make a ritual to give audience to all the pieces of yourself that have felt scary to see...to own. Love them. Honor them. Bow to them. Name them.
This is just the beginning.
much love,
Marci
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