Sacred Wounds: A Mid-life Journey of Healing and Ceremony

Once upon a time I let it rip.

My life was ceremony after that and there was no turning back.

I was 35 then and my soul was battered and bruised from years of pushing my own passions and needs away for the sake of making others happy.

People pleasing they call it.

Being a nice girl.

That nice girl was slowly rotting away from the inside out from the hate and resentment of being taken advantage of over and over again. Always being the supporter for everyone else with no one to be seen when it was my turn.

Once upon a time we gathered to heal, much more than that happened. In truth some healing happened, barriers broken, AND some new scars they call spiritual abuse nowadays. Emotional abuse in a spiritual setting by people that you've paid to help you heal, by your Facilitators, your leaders. Gaslighting, manipulations, cutting you down instead of building you up…

We dug our hole and then helped dig holes for our sister's to be buried in when they got too tired and I was too hungry for lunch to think twice.

That was the day I met Pele

-Otherwise known as Pelehonuamea, “She who shapes the sacred land,” this goddess of fire and volcanoes continues to devour the Big Island with molten lava, also creating new land in the process.-

Naked, buried up to my neck, in the chilly forests of Oregon in early summer, I began to shiver and shake. Keys prayed for me and sent me Pele.

I could feel her rumbling fire through my body. Warming my skin, coursing through my veins. Unlocking… my Eros. The earth pressing down on top of my body turned into my beloved winding around every curve. I could've stayed there forever… but everyone else had gone in and been retrieved and switched places already.

And as I said before, I'm not one to keep lunch waiting.

We honored the elements and friendship between us on that wild ride.

-Singing songs in the wind

-Roasting in the sweatlodge and then singing and dancing naked around the fire.

-the earth burials

- and the water ceremony.

In my mind I hold it as our culmination ceremony when we each got a chance to sit in the honoring seat and hear our sisters bless us for all the gifts that we saw in each other. That day I cried for probably 4 hours straight.

I heard beautiful things from all of my sisters but I was the most honored by Kyoko. She sang me a traditional song in Japanese about the moon goddess… I wish I could remember the words. But I'll never forget that feeling.

I haven't made much ceremony since then, not everyday as big as I used to.

Ceremony is much more internal now.

I do it with my attention, intention, and thoughts.

Unless the wilderness calls. Or deep questions are finding no answers in the normal ways…

I find that answers come to me much more easily. Or maybe Ive just learned how to trust and listen to myself better…

Someday maybe I'll make ceremony again. This time I'll be the teacher, and I'll make sure no one leaves with scars.