Can I be a Mom and a Mystic?

If you have been reading my blog or receiving my emails for a while now, you know that extraordinary things have happened to me while on sacred pilgrimage in Egypt. One of the most profound experiences I had was on my first trip in 2017. I have written about it more fully for our upcoming book SACRED JOURNEY—EGYPT: Transformational Tales of Egyptian Magic and Ancient Mysteries soon to be released by Flower of Life Press. Here is a small piece of the story that I feel called to share with you today...

There were 12 of us in the Great Pyramid of Giza for a private visit. We had two hours alone to participate in deep ceremony. As we waited at the top of an impossibly steep ramp for the ceremony to start I had a momentary fit of anxiety. I was transported into a misty memory from somewhere in my soul’s past. I was a priestess with a good deal of authority and responsibility. I was overseeing a dangerous initiation ceremony of some kind. The details weren’t clear. What was crystal clear, however, was that people died on my watch. It didn’t matter that they knew the risks. It was still devastating.

In a flash it was gone and I had no time to process it. Duty called and the ceremony began. I had the holy honor of anointing each woman with sacred Egyptian oils as we stood in the King's Chamber. The King’s Chamber is actually a resonating chamber the Egyptians used for powerful spiritual ceremonies and out-of-body experiences, although you won't hear that from most Egyptologist.

The roof is made with a pattern of cuts and ridges so that sound is powerfully amplified. We were each lucky enough to be allowed to lay in the sarcophagus while the rest of the group toned over us. The energy of our voices as we toned together got so high I could physically feel it in my body—reverberating through every cell. It was electrifying! Then something extraordinary happened. The vibration became so intense that the lid on the oil bottle popped off. I grab for it wildly and caught it just in time, saving the sacred oil from spilling. Having oil in the Pyramid is a big no-no so it was vital that I didn't spill a drop. In that moment, as relief washed over me, I heard a voice clearly say, “You can be trusted with your power.” It penetrated me to my core.

As we moved through the remainder of our ceremony, the lid popped off two more times. Each time I was able to catch it and avoid spilling the oil. Three times I was tested. Three times I passed.

It took years for the fullness of that message to come home to me. In fact, I would say that it wasn't until last weekend that I completely integrated that experience. But before I get to that, I have to talk a bit about how becoming sensitive to messages like these has changed my life. I honestly believe we can all receive these messages of guidance and information from our Soul, the Divine, and other helpful beings if we just open to the idea and practice developing the "ears to hear" and "eyes to see." But it can be jarring at first.

Further, it requires a certain commitment to acting on the information you are given. For me, there's no question about it anymore. When I am tugged in a direction, I go. But that can sometimes mean other things, especially small details, fall by the wayside. Last week, for example, I mailed a box of oils to the wrong address TWICE! Then I missed mailing another box altogether. In the "olden days" of early 2020 this would not have happened. Even though I have been working in a more guided and feminine way for three years now, I was still supremely loyal to my masculine capacities. When I was facing a deadline I would work until the work was done, rather than follow my soul's urge to read a book, or go to sleep at a reasonable hour, or take a break to eat, or decide to finish the next day so I could have time with my family.

That way of working now feels violent to my system. It is, in fact, a violation. And I refuse to do that to myself anymore.

But losing track of details from time to time is a very real downside to being more willing to work on what calls me in the moment. Mystics access magic because they stay in the moment. That is where all the magic happens. And they let go of judgement about how it looks or feels to others.

For me, that is both liberating and frightening. It means I have to be willing to navigate the part of me that learned to track what is happening around me as a way of staying safe. I am an expert at reading people because I had to become one to survive my childhood. I developed the habits of attention and skill to know what would push my parents or older brother too far leading to undesirable consequences. Yet the need to track everyone and everything in my environment is the very thing that gets in the way of being fully present to myself and to the magic.

Being in sacred sexual union with my beloved is one of the places where this tug-of-war between tracking for safety and surrendering to the moment has created disconnection and disfunction. While I have worked on this and made considerable progress, it's still a challenge for me at times. Last weekend, I sought to bring my mystic to bed with me. And in a moment of painful beauty, I was given a chance to connect the dots and resolve this core wound at a whole new level.

The nudge came in the form of an off-hand comment by my husband during a time of shared intimacy. I had followed my guidance and offered to anoint his feet with spikenard oil as the ancients did. I felt vulnerable offering this unusual gift as an initiatory act to our love-making. When I was done massaging the oil into the top and bottom of his feel, I moistened my lips with the oil on my finger tips. Now you have to know that I can be quite a germaphobe when it comes to making sure our bodies and space is clean for our love-making, so he smirked a little at the out-of-character action.

And there it was: me, in the moment, out of my head and not tracking something that I normally did.

While his noticing was not unkind, it stung. As is our practice, we made room for the feelings to come forward. I picked up on that tiny thread and tugged it, and low-and-behold if it didn’t go all the way back to what I learned my first time in the Great Pyramid of Giza. Here was the crux of my life issue: the belief that if I surrender to flow (a more feminine way of being) and move deep into the mystery, I will lose track of something important and something terrible will happen.

I let the raw wave of emotion build. My throat began to close. Tears fell, then sobs came. The pain in my throat was excruciating. As I prayed for understanding and relief, more information came forward. I saw that in that past life as a priestess where people had died on my watch, the pain of my mistake was so bad I had quit my ministry. In my failure I silenced myself and stilled my voice.

With this realization, I knew that I in this lifetime I had to get over my fear of losing myself in flow. Otherwise I would never allow the fullness of my feminine power to flow through. And I knew quitting is simply not an option this time around.

Today I am learning to make friends with these imperfections. (I wanted to send this email on Tuesday, and here it is Thursday.) I am committed to finding other ways to make safe and track details and to let go of the irrational, gnawing fear that even small mistakes can turn deadly.

I know there is much more work to do to learn how to be both a mystic and a mom, a wise woman and a wife, a priestess and a businesswoman.

And as I find a way forward for myself, I am also deeply dedicated to supporting my sister-students in doing the same. So sister, hit reply and tell me. Does this resonate with you? Do you have a hidden, irrational or gnawing fear holds you back? Are you ready to release it?

The Time Returns!
And we are all needed now.


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