Shedding My Skin

August 31 – September 3, 2016  (One year before I attend my first community Grief Ritual)…

I did a shamanic drumming journey with Kelly Eckert.  I had an intention to find my lifelong Power Animal.

Toward the end of shamanic drumming journey, a presence came into my room, I felt this presence to my right and I even heard footsteps.  I thought maybe it was my daughter coming to hover while I meditated, it happens 😉 At first I was annoyed thinking that was the case, but no… I heard and felt it move closer and then I knew it was not one of my children at all.  Not sure if it was Grandpa Frank, or an angel or guide, ancestor, etc… but I felt the presence come closer until we touched and connected; I felt warm and tingling on that right side and then I felt the pure love fill me.  This feeling crossed my whole body like a gentle washing wave of unconditional love and I felt my tears slowly slide down my cheeks.

I am so grateful these kinds of things happen to me spontaneously with such grace.  I know that no matter what kind of mood I’m in, it doesn’t matter to the Other Side.  They always love me.  I realized that I see myself as a hot mess, and I know I’m loved unconditionally.  Such peace this brings; releasing the pressure of perfection from my heart and conditioned mind.

After this connection with the drumming and Spirit, I went to sleep and I dreamt of Rattlesnake shedding it’s skin. 

Then later that day I left to go to work and a beautiful butterfly, absolutely gorgeous sea-foam green and light pink-ish-organge-ish butterfly flew right up to my face!  Then dropped at my feet.  It stopped me in my path (and my need to get on the commute to work).  It looked injured as if it were dying.  I tried to pick it up but it fluttered away a couple parking spaces and flew oddly about erratically, with the sunlight shining through it’s incredible, most beautiful wings… and then butterfly plopped again on a concrete parking spot.  It was lying on its side.  I thought it was dead.  I got a small twig to gently lift it from its side.  I wanted to bring it to the grass, or a plant, or some flowers.  I figured if it was going to die (how anything lives in Phoenix is beyond me) then I wanted it to die among nature rather than hard hot concrete.  I found some flowers, apologized for having to leave it in the heat, and when I picked it up off my hand to place on the flowers, I felt the butterfly’s grip on my palm.  Incredible.  I didn’t like that I couldn’t save it from death, but I accepted it and said a little prayer.

A dying butterfly in my face had a profound effect on me.

Everyone wants to transform into the beautiful butterfly

From their lowly, untransformed selves

Into the picture-perfect dream of everything:







 We couldn’t possibly love the self

That’s a hot mess


And under-loved


A dying butterfly flew to me

To greet my furrowed face

She stopped me still on my path

To a daily commute


And dying


I accept her beautiful death

As part of nature

I could not save

Can I accept my own Nature,

And stop rejecting Life with my dreams of


Perfect joy

Uninterrupted bliss

This need to transform… into what?

A human life only lived on the surface of feeling?

Or alone in my hidden grief?

This need to avoid pain and my perception of imperfection


Can I feel it?

Can I feel it all without killing anyone?


This numbness and bridled rage

Make an ugly dance

Driving me with Depression

To my own early grave.


I feel so utterly powerless!

In this fucked-up

Molested world of

Rape and murder

Poverty and zombies


It’s all so grotesque as my own heart

With rage as fierce as the Devil

I would rip off His head with my own hands and teeth of Hellfire

And piss on the stump of that Demon King

That rips children’s vaginas

As blood streams

And screams in horror


I am as bloodthirsty for the Devil

As He was for me.


I seek to avenge all the children

Boy and girl

Yet in my impotent state

All I seek is the grave.


Die little butterfly

I give up

On being you.


If I transform in this life

It won’t be into a happy little angel

That only speaks of Love and Light

Not a pretty little butterfly

That sets one to awe on sight


But I’ll be a woman

Powerful and grown

Able to feel

Able to hold it all

The good and the grace

With the hatred and rage


I’ll be a woman

With eyes that blaze

Like a thousand suns

Burning through everyone’s

Fake face.


I’ll be a woman

Real in this flesh

I accept the Soul-Level Pre-Appointed


In fact

I know it.

God damn it

But I don’t have to like it


I’m pissed!

I am not a fucking butterfly

Nor do I


Aspire to be one.


I’ll be a fat hungry little caterpillar all my life if that’s what it takes


To realize

To wake up

To the fact that

I’m actually a woman

Loved by All in the Spirit Realm

No matter how I feel

Or rather


I DO feel


I’ve been afraid of my feelings

Or hurting feelings

With my truth



I’m not going to pretend anymore to be somebody I’m not.


Do not shut me up!


I am wise

And I am wicked

I am pure

And the most UN-holy


I am a woman who has endured

Some of the most unspeakable tortures

As a child

I am not alone in this.

Yet we were all alone because we never spoke of it

I speak now even when I’m told to




All my life.


People can scarcely say the word


Let alone

Child Rape.

Even sodomy somehow comes easier off the tongue



Because if they allow themselves a moment

Just a moment

to F E E L

Those words


Child Rape.

They will feel the instant devastation in

Their whole being

The burning of their bodies

The crackling cracking of their precious

Intact psyches

Unlike the rest of us

Who somehow survive

In body

if not soul


Yet if we struggle in our

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder








Or anything other than



We are yet again


Karma or clothing caused the rapes

And our weakness of character and mindset

To release the past

And get over it!

Move on, for goodness sake!


Oh yeah?

Let’s let the Devil have His way with you

For six plus years of your childhood

And then you tell me how happy you are

And how easy life is

Fuck you and your gratitude bullshit!

A child just got raped in the time it took me to say that!


That kind of grace takes time!

It doesn’t happen over-night,

My fair-weathered friend,

Nor because you say so


We must speak

We must grieve

We must release the ancient cry

The primal chilling howl

Our feral scream!


Until healing

Until forgiveness

Until unconditional




Flows through us like

Corrie Ten Boom.


Forgiveness is a Gift.


As is my anger

And outrage at the deplorable


Repulsive acts of cowards who rape.


I’ll be lovely as a butterfly after I’m dead.

Until then

I’m a woman out of her head

With healing in her hands

And mighty words

That push buttons left and right.


You don’t like it?



Run away, little girl!

Run away, fake man!


I’m looking for warriors that want to end the cycle of all


Heal families

And set humanity straight


Protect life and relations

As Liedloff bore witness

Wise Yaquanna know

The Way

Of Trust


And Real Happiness

In life and love.


This dying butterfly

And rattlesnake shedding it’s skin

Releases me from magical thinking

Wakes me from my dream of transforming

Into happy perfection of bliss


As Marion Woodman so accurately states

Perfection rejects Life.

I’m tired of rejecting life.


Be every storm

And eye

And calm.


It’s time to get real.

It’s time to get naked after rape.

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