I often think I'm not doing enough because these days, so much of what I'm called to spend my time and energy on is not directly tied to producing a result or making money. But when I look back over a period of time, say a season, I notice how nourishing and fruitful that time has been. Here is a short list of some of the things I've been quietly experiencing in my day to day:
My relationship with my sister currently consists almost entirely of sharing funny Tik Toks with each other, and I fucking love it. At the end of each day, I get to sit down “with” her and laugh until my sides ache.
Getting my work done in the morning when my brain is fresh. Spending the afternoons resting and napping with my cats. Getting as much done in those 4 hours as I can and not stressing about how long things are taking or when they will be done. My idea of completion has become a fluid concept, and oh boy is that a whole new world for me. (Feels weird, but good.)
I used to really wrap myself up in the whole “I'm an introvert and I don't need people” persona, but the pandemic helped me realize that although I DO enjoy time alone, even I have a limit to the amount of isolation I can stand. So, I started reaching out for deeper connection and opening my schedule to allow for more spontaneous magic, fun, and adventure. I reached out to my brother and sister-in-heart (feels so much better than saying “in-law” although that is also true) and asked them to invite me along on their frequent forest exploration and mushroom foraging trips. Best decision I made all year!
Inspired by a dear friend, Friday afternoons are now reserved for "Church". Each week, my ancestors (past and future) are teaching me the magical practices of my lineage. All I have to do is show up, listen, and follow instructions. Sounds easier than it is, because there are a lot of layers to this witch wound that I'm clearing out and stitching up and the shadowy shit that comes up often feels like it's going to kill me. I've been ingesting cannabis and micro-dosing psilocybin to help with this healing, and even that is something I've had to unravel some judgement around. I was worried that relying on these substances to “get there” would mean that I wasn't really doing the work and that I wouldn't be able to do it without them. After months of regularly engaging in this practice, what I've found is the exact opposite. I now have greater access to the Otherworld than ever before, all the time, even though I only use the plant medicines once a week.
Saying YES to showing up authentically in sacred community, despite my social anxiety making me feel awkward AF. Having the courage to speak up, in the moment, about the visions I'm having instead of keeping them locked away due to fear of sounding crazy. It was this act that inspired a gentle and loving soul to ask me to be their teacher. In my mind, I heard a quote* from one of my favorite books: “You know you are ready to be a teacher when someone asks you to teach them.” *Or something like that. I think these words were from Paulo Coelho's book, The Witch of Portobello, but I can't check to be sure because I lent my copy to someone years ago and never got it back. Interestingly, this was the book I read in 2007, while camping in a tent in my backyard, that became one of the puzzle pieces that sent me down the rabbit hole of my first shamanic initiation. And here I was, 14 years later, camping in a tent, contemplating how all these pieces came together to get me to this point where I am finally seasoned enough to be someone's teacher. In an old world medicine woman type way. I am deeply honored. Re-reading my own book, this time NOT as writer or editor... nowI am reading my memoir as someone who needs to receive the medicine that came through me. Yes, I lived those experiences. I did the work and wrote the stories. But in 2018, towards the end of that long creative process, I experienced the pain of losing almost all of my most significant friendships. The resulting grief of that was then compounded by other trauma, including my husband's accident in late 2019 and all of the chaos of the last 18 months with the pandemic, wildfire evacuations, my grandparents losing their home in the Beachie Creek fire, historic ice storms and the resulting cleanup, on and on and on… I spiraled into depression and began to doubt my ability to embody the wisdom I had gained in my book's happy ending. I spent 9 years crafting that sacred elixir, the story of my initiation into the life of a modern mystic. But trying to sell it when I wasn't able to hold that frequency made me feel like a fraud. So I'm reading it again to remind myself where I've been and how I got here. To remember that I had the courage to leave behind my safe, but too small world for a life of adventure in the unknown terrain of Spirit, stepping over the burnt out and broken body of my people pleaser onto a path where I am alone (all one) with myself. Knowing that from this place, any connections I make with others will be in alignment with who I really am and will add to my wholeness rather than diminish it. "On the way to realization, I lost everything." ~Adamus St. Germaine Some days, I have a hard time seeing beyond what I've lost, so I don't allow myself to see or enjoy what I've gained. The wisest part of me knows that this state of nothingness is temporary. I know my passion will return and I will feel alive again. Someday. Some days, that day is today. Some days, it feels very far away. But I just keep fucking going.
Be wild & make your magic 🧙♀️✨ Amy
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