Diary – 3rd Week of March

Dear Diary,

Tonight I grieve.

On a spiritual and cerebral level I fully understand what is happening and yet I find myself wracked with sorrow. I picked up my plants today from the studio, I emptied the fridge, and I said goodbye. I smiled weakly at my son and shifted my words to “see ya on the flip side”, but the truth is I don’t know if I will. I can’t predict how long this will take to unravel. They say “don’t put all your eggs in one basket”, but that’s the only way I know. I am an all in kind of gal, especially when I believe in the cause. I am grieving the potential loss of the studio and my business, but I am also grieving feelings of not having served enough, not having gotten enough people in, not having helped prepare more people to be resilient, and for that I weep.

As my son sleeps and I weep I am so overcome with emotion. In one sob I am terrified, in the next I am mourning, and in the next I am grateful. As I remember the word “corona” means crown, I find solace in this idea of rebirthing (crowning). When I had my son I grieved my former life. I grieved the loss of backpacking, of carefree and reckless living, and of who I once was. My emotions and hormones swung in all directions as I relived all of my life once and for all to say goodbye to it as I crumpled into the metaphorical fire and burned to the ground until eventually I rose from the ashes into a mother. That transformation was equal parts gruesome, painful, and heartbreakingly beautiful. It cracked me in every way.

“corona “ is doing that very same thing.

Last week I spent my days caring for my community, replying to messages, sending tips, posting lives, and above all ensuring my mother was set up to maintain her holistic cancer protocol in her home. I need to ensure for my own sanity that she be able to treat herself if she has any troubles just by speaking to me over the phone in the event I can’t get to her. The busyness of preparing her and me for whole health left me little time to check in with myself and process what I was feeling. This type of crisis brings me into hyper fight or flight mode, and I will use either to ensure survival. The heightened state of trauma I battle with daily has built me for this war. I compartmentalize, I take steady calm action, and then I deal with the aftermath when I am safe.

I have spent my life living with heightened trauma but at least now I have the tool kit, the awareness and the presence to unwind and unravel.

I may be losing the studio, I may have lost the capacity to connect face to face in person, but I have not lost my holistic tool kit or all that I have learned in healing myself. All of the work I have done learning to hold space, learning to allow others to have their own journey, getting to know plants, movement, myself, it all serves me now. Holding space in a time of crisis is the hardest thing as an empath I ever imagined possible. My psychic states are increasing, I am bio-locating more, I am seeing much, and am feeling everything….and so I grieve.

I feel with all my senses what is happening and I am humbled.

I have sensed for some time that something of this magnitude was coming and yet I knew nothing. I couldn’t have known because my humanness would have succumbed to fear and then I would be useless. I am not useless. I chose spiritual, purposeful, prosperous, luminous, and faith as my words this year, each one of them brings me comfort as much as reminds me of my use. My role as a lightworker right now is to honour the process, to lean in, to surrender, and to have faith. My role is to hold my light strong and continue to see in the dark so that others who choose light but feel dim can walk with a soul guide. My role is to be purposeful in my conversations, in my connections and to carve space to simply be. It took me 18 months to emerge from birthing my son, but I was sick, alone, and without many tools. I am healthy, I am surrounded by love, and I am well equipped. As hard and uncomfortable as it is, I trust myself, I trust this process and I trust the creator. My process won’t look like anyone else’s and for once I understand this and am willing to experience the journey. I have a beautiful soul journeying with me this time as well which is the greatest blessing of all. The stakes are high, but he is worth me turning up present, whole, and loving. Much will be lost, but not love, love will grow in ways I couldn’t have imagined possible and so even as I give myself permission to grieve, I celebrate, honour, respect and give thanks for LOVE. Love is my light, love is worth fighting for, love is worth surviving for. I love you Caden.

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