Surrendering to What Is
photo by: Eric Nopanen
On the morning of Sunday, October 16th, I experienced a kind of lightening strike. This was the morning I was supposed to fly to Crete for a convocation of priestesses from all around the world, but instead, I tested positive for COVID-19. With the appearance of that second line on the home test, a three year dream evaporated in an instant.
This trip was important to me on many levels. First and foremost, I wanted to be among the priestesses gathering to do ceremony to strengthen the feminine energies in the world at this unsettling time in history. It is well beyond time for us to move beyond the patriarchy, and a week of ceremony devoted to that transition felt like high level service to me.
Second, I’d just settled my daughter into college a month before. I’m an empty nester now, and was ready to step up my priestessing as my mothering responsibilities eased. This felt like a cornerstone experience, cementing my intention. I’d be deepening my connection to my priestess cohort and connecting with others from all over the globe.
This trip had been postponed twice because of COVID. (It was initially scheduled for October of 2020, the year the pandemic began.) My cohort continued to meet, to plan, and to dream over those three years, preparing ourselves for this pilgrimage.
As you can imagine, I was careful in the weeks leading up to the trip - masking when I felt vulnerable to exposure, getting the latest booster shot, doing what I could short of full quarantine, which didn’t seem necessary at this stage in the game. I mean, I had even made it through the week of high school graduation with my daughter getting COVID. I had developed lots of trust in my immune system.
The timing was just crazy!
And, it was what it was. I went home and went to bed while the other priestesses flew across the sea.
In the days that followed, I was home alone, and caring for myself. It would have been easy for me to drop into shame. That is a super typical response for me, but I have been doing lots of work around that, and so I was able to acknowledge the voice, but not give it air time. I worked hard to not give meaning to what had happened. I wasn’t careless. I didn’t do anything wrong. The fact that this happened didn’t mean that I’m not a real priestess, or not worthy of the protection of the goddess.
Mostly, the learning felt like - life just happens. All kind of things happen to people, good people, every single day. Surrender was the word that emerged for me. Surrender to what is so, and consider the most empowering way to be with it, in it.
So, I made space to feel all the various emotions that emerged. Sadness, disbelief, anger… I danced with each of them over the course of the two weeks while my sisters were away. I held myself through their waves, with the help of warm bath water and soft blankets.
I also made use of the time to rest. I am definitely experiencing a level of exhaustion after 23 years of mothering children at home. That is a lot of giving! I had planned to rest in January, but my body had a different agenda.
Still, I wanted to be part of the convocation. It felt important to me to lend my energy in service of raising feminine energy in the world and transitioning beyond the patriarchy. So, I stayed in daily contact with my priestess cohort and designed and carried out my own personal rituals here in my home that aligned with those happening at the convocation. I also offered some ceremonies to my women’s circle here in Port Townsend. Masked and / or distanced, I offered blessings and helped release grief. I danced outdoors with one of my sisters at the same time that the convocation priestess were gathering for their gala. I added my energy from across the sea in all the ways I could imagine to do so.
The time at home also allowed me to outline a course that I will soon be able to offer to go along with my Aphrodisiac book. This feels like another aspect of my priestessing - bringing this work of sacred sensuality and sexuality more into people’s lives. My priestess sisters did ceremony for me at a cave of Aphrodite, and in Athens where her altar once stood, leaving rose petals to honor her.
I was a powerful part of this convocation, even though I participated from my northwest home. I still feel a level of disappointment, but I am also full of gratitude for the gifts of this powerful experience.