97. a vision of death

I saw myself die a thousand times... and then, I saw myself live.

 In February 2020, during a mushroom ceremony, I had a clear vision of the death of my business coach self. I saw my 'girl boss' self laid out in a casket, being honored by many my remaining alive self (somehow they split?) and I knew her to be a priestess, witch, fearless visionary leader of women. 

The vision was clear AF, but it terrified me because I believed (then) that it was only by helping women make more money as entrepreneurs that I'd be substansially resourced as a coach. I also didn't fully trust my gifts and calling yet as a soul guide. 

We are all visionaries, to some extent. We all have a second sight at birth, evident in dreams and imagination. Many (if not most) are conditioned out of this sight by early childhood, by every time we're told what we see, hear, or feel 'isn't real.' Eventually, we start to believe it. 

I knew the vision that I had, but I was scared to actively follow through on it. So I didn't, not really. 

Then I started to have a recurring vision, one that visited me for over five years, from spring 2020 until April 11, 2025, when the vision finally... changed.

It is worth noting that visions (symbols, images, pictures) are the voice of the unconscious - the expansive, unknowable, unfathomable, uncontrollable vastness of Psyche - from which emotion, intuition, and inner knowing arise. 

In this recurring five year vision, I saw myself (as I looked around age 33) with long blond wavy hair, wearing a flowing black dress with bell sleeves and a tiered maxi skirt (reminded me of stevie nicks) standing at the edge of a huge ocean. The sky was kind of gray and cloudy, and the mood is mysterious and somber. The vision was always the same, always from the back (never seeing her face), always carrying the energy of death.

I am walking into the ocean, to my knees, skirt billowing around me, then my waist, and my sleeves start to float, then my chest, shoulders, neck, hair drifting behind me, then I am gone, submerged entirely. I can feel rather than see that I am dissolving, that this is a voluntary surrender and willing death. There is no coming back.

Over the five years that this vision visited me, I found myself moving through a (much much much longer than expected underworld journey, perhaps multiple visits and multiple 'emergences,' but the vision never changed. During this time, my walk with the Mother River, with archetypal Mother energy, with witchcraft, the Mushroom, the Rose, animal teachers, and guides of the human and non-human fold, depeened exponentially. 

I shared the vision with the wise women in my circle - always the same, always with a knowing that it was an instruction and an explanation. I must choose it, and also, it would happen either way. 

For five years, in a thousand different ways, I apprenticed to the Goddess, to the animate force behind all living things, to Earth, to the Mother, to my body and breath and innate intelligence and cycles and trusted trusted trusted that all was going according to plan. 

Over the past few months, I've been journeying through a practicum in spiritual counseling as part of my masters degree. Since February, I've been receiving counsel from an incredible human (who is also a raven with a gold earring) named Prashanth, whose silence is also golden, and whose invitational presence has been a sacred companion as I've journeyed further into my visionary capacity. 

Much to my surprise, during a session on the full moon eve, after witnessing myself die a thousand deaths, the vision simply changed.

I only saw the ocean. The sky was clear, the water a deep blue-green, the energy open, clear, and expectant. The sky was colors of lavender, pink, orange, and streaks of gold from a sunrise somewhere beyond the vield of vision, and the air was charged with life.

Then she came. 

From below the surface of the water, I saw a dark emergence, rich chestnut-mahogany hair, followed by skin the color of milk, honey, and roses. A clear, intense, intelligent and loving gaze arose from the water's depths, green-gold eyes looking straight into my soul. Full lips turned up in a knowing smile, then her body, strong, supple, alive. The dress - the dress! She stood, and stood tall, full of power and steadiness. I saw her face! I saw her eyes! I saw her, and she saw me.

There she is.

Here I am.

I laughed when I saw her (me), then I cried the deep tears that come with goosebumps when Spirit is upon me. Warm, sweet and salty teardrops of gratitude for the magic and mystery of the left hand path, of the unending spiral of becoming. 

This is what the moon brought me. 

She brought me, me.

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There is more, but I think that's it for now. I was to offer a deep heartfelt thank you to the women who knew - to the Ninshubars, Hekates, Magadalens, to the Owl and the Snake, to Oak and Rose, to all who saw this version of me when she was not yet a twinkle in my eye. 

Thank you for your vision, for your second sight, for not losing it for others, even if you've struggled to hold it for yourself.

Thank you for seeing me until I could also see myself.