A few years ago, I received reiki attunements from a curandero reiki master. The guardian of the second was Santa Muerte, the Angel of Death. So: to fully integrate my second attunement, I embarked on a journey to her.
I had no idea what I was doing.
No idea why I was doing what I was doing. And I’m still processing quite a bit of it. But I understand the greater purpose. And I trusted myself; so, I’m looking forward to seeing the results.
It was quite a journey.
Santa Muerte is not one to take lightly. I’ve said that before. When you’re with her, you do what you need to do. You act. For instance, at one point in the more-than-a-year-long journey, I was standing in my kitchen, and suddenly knelt down to the ground. I saw a vision of my sister cleaning up my apartment after my death. I felt the emotional reaction of that. And I declined that future. I prayed. And I heard, “If you want to live, you have to live.” So, I lived. “So, I lived.”
I was listening to a tarot reader on youtube the other day – yesterday, maybe? – and she mentioned survivor’s guilt. Which I don’t have, from this life. But it struck me. It hit a chord, as they say. I’ve had at least one past life where I was one of a few survivors – a rainbow whirler, a warrior. I’ve died as a warrior and I’ve lived as one as well. There’s an emotional residue of that somewhere within my awareness of my being. (This tangent brought to you by my analyzing saying the words: “So, I lived.”)
There’s more to this story, including meeting people who were dying, dealing with the death of loved ones, diving into my family’s history and connecting with deceased family members – even dancing with the dead. I did that tonight, in fact. (It wasn’t the first time, though.) Hey: the dead need some joy, too. Honestly, I needed some joy myself, and I was happy for the company. Not altogether trusting, to be clear. Just aware.
Along the way, I discovered my Great Aunt Phyl was a smoker. She was the cleanest person in the world, and that’s not an exaggeration. So, here’s what happened:
I was quitting cigarettes. I lit up my last one and I called in all my relatives who had crossed over to share it with me. Aunt Phyl showed up. And I was like, “You? No way.” She looked at me cheekily. It was kind of a cute moment. Never would have happened if she had been alive. But, I have since confirmed with my mom and aunt: she was indeed a smoker, and quit in her 30s or 40s.
It got tough, I won’t lie. Confronting your demons. Some call it the dark night of the soul.
Ultimately, it’s about learning the boundaries of the self. That’s being clear, too. Clearing the aura to gain clarity. I’m fairly sensititve and I pick up a lot of “stuff” that isn’t mine, so I needed to learn how to own my space, to use my energy field on purpose and with intention. And doing that starts with identifying the boundaries of the self, on all levels.
We live in such a fascinating place, and at a fascinating time. There are so many layers to explore. And to each, his own.