There is a lot of fragility happening. People are scared for their lives. The impending doom is permeating the air, leaving some of us ready to fight, and some of us ready to flee. Not from the country per say, but from living life fully. I personally, am struggling for energy. Energy to get up, keep moving, keep persevering to do the things I love. Struggling for inspiration. Struggling for grounding energy, and the golden light that comes with it.
Within my death doula/midwife education, I was reminded that the end result of our lives should depend on how we LIVE, so that death may come with just a little more grace. It's those who live their lives fully from day to day, who do not fear death. I need to remind myself of the inspiration I gather from these stories, from meeting those who are on their way into the bardo, For those that need help, help them along the way. I was not called to do this work until I went into a week long Shamanic Journey. I had been experiencing what is called Entity Attachment. Through my realization and acceptance of this from the help of my energy/bodyworker, and the help I received from my shamanic guide who offered a loving way of ridding one of such, I went into a week long journey and observation. Within that week, the guiding spirit of my power animal, a Black Leopard who I call Cypress, was called so I may help guide people into the underworld, suddenly. Except, maybe not so suddenly.
Backing up to the 1920's, to a little city known as New Orleans. My great grandmother, Florence Consuelo Harvey Dubus, landed in New Orleans in 1921. Born in Texas, raised in Tampico Mexico for 21 years, she met her future husband in Havana Cuba whilst summering, and soon she reunited with him (via ship, solo) in his hometown of New Orleans. Great Grandma was a Medium, spirits spoke through her. My aunt is also a Medium. I was told I would be the next and last one in the family to carry on that gift. While I have always thought it was an important gift, I wasn't exactly jumping to carry it. But when the door knocked, it made sense. This could be my own way to carry the gift, in a practical way, a way that felt truly constructive. Helping the dead ease into the next phase in a way that is genuine for them, harmonious with nature.
Florence died when I was still pretty young, an adolescent, But I knew I had a strong connection to her. Day of the Dead. Honoring those who have passed. Ancestral Guidance. It's strong, it's real. Which leads to why I feel so compelled to march and stand vigilant against the atrocities that are happening in our free country we live in. My great grandmother was Ashkenazi Jewish. The whole story of her family's immigration into this country is still and may always remain a mystery. But what is very clear, is that the safety for people fleeing from religious persecution and racism is in full effect.
Through her, I will gather my inspiration and energy.
With her, I will live, fully.
For her, I will fight, with grace.