Wintertime, Earthquakes, 30 Days With Death + Energetic Rules of Thumb When Communing With The Dead

As we sink deeper into winter, it’s only fitting that I accidentally spent 30 days with death. Maybe not so accidental at all...

Wintertime is meant for inward reflection, solitary magic, death cycles, and minimal energy exertion. The year starts with motivating and inspiring season starting cardinal Capricorn. We’ve leapt out the gates head first into our New Years resolutions, letting go of things we’ve deemed bad or un serving, a la The Devil, tarot ruler of Capricorn. Four weeks in and we’ve either stuck with it, or fizzled out like the slow leak of a balloon. We’ve come out the other side of two eclipses, lunar and solar, grand opportunities for shadow work, as major celestial events always are, and still the greater call to hibernate, conserve, reflect may have kept us hiding under the sheets until starry eyed alien Aquarius season when forward movement slows way down to a hurry up and wait.

This lunar cycle brought back the return of my internal moon, my first since giving birth 9 months ago. In my solo magical practice I’d been asking for connection to my sacral chakra, creative activation and connection to the goddess. And so it is, I experienced a creative burst and deepening of my intuition in only a way that my bodies wisdom can provide, the return of my life death life cycle, and what a gift she is now. I felt tremendous activation in my accessibility to lunar wisdom, even grief over shedding the unfertilized egg that will never become a baby, what a revelation to behold the power of creating and sustaining life within my body having come out the other side of pregnancy and giving birth. I had begun sunbathing through the window as the sun rose over the mountains of the foggy costal city we call home. I think that daily vitamin d boost helped regulate my hormones.

Still following the lead of my intuition I continued to explore my ancestry and local cemeteries. Around the middle of January, we were jolted awake by two early morning earthquakes. The incident left me triggered for days, terrified of daily earthquakes or worse and even bigger one. When in public I would think to myself, why is no one else afraid? Understandably, earthquakes in California are just “part of the program” the only large earthquake I’ve ever felt was the 1989 earthquake. I was 6 years old don’t remember the feeling of the quake itself. My Dad was in the showroom of the dealership he worked for at the moment the quake hit, the glass shattered and left him with a few solid wounds. He came home hours after he was supposed to and with no cell phones in those days there was nothing we could do but just wait. I’ll never forget the moment he turned the corner into the kitchen, almost 10pm that night, his dress pants shredded, blood on his shirt and bandages everywhere. Earthquakes terrified me for years after.

I lived here the first time for 24 years and only felt one earthquake, I’ve been back for 5 months and I’ve felt 2 already! How could you do this to me California we just got here..

I was battling feelings of betrayal, intense paralyzing fear, and feeling utterly teeny tiny. The reality of forces beyond my control became wildly apparent and nothing brings you to your knees and asks you “what the fuck are you doing with your life?” like an earthquake.

I had to coach myself through it, I had to just be ok with surrendering to the thought that yes one could happen at any second. One of the many perils of wisdom I had gleaned from my time as a doula was the powerful magic in leaning into fear. During pregnancy, when a “what if... happens?” comes up, the only way to sort through they fear is to answer it. Answering that what if removes the thought from your mind because you have created a game plan should an unexpected outcome arise.

I answered all my what if’s, moved a ton of fear (ironically this coincided with the full moon lunar eclipse) accepted the fact that in our changing world nowhere feels totally safe. We spent a lot of time together as a family we carried on with our exploration of our home and our discussion of how to achieve our dreams.

A Sunday Salvation Army drop off trip turned into a lunch date in a cemetery.

Hello darkness my old friend. Death, the ultimate distraction.

We explored the Olivet Cemetary in Colma, California a city with over one million people interred in any one of the thirteen cemeteries within the city limits. Since my last cemetary exploration a month ago, I’m starting to feel like an old pro a home walking among the gravestones, observing and feeling everything around me.

Olivet has a few interesting things, a monument to the Showfolks of America and an ominous monument to the Sailors of the Union Pacific. My curiosity was peaked and I decided to find out more about both of these unique monuments. Going down the rabbit hole of local history I discovered how Colma came to be a city where the dead outnumber the living.

After the boom of the goldrush to San Francisco in the 1800s, disease became rampant, killing people by the hundreds. Cemeteries were overflowing with the deceased by the 1880s. Four large cemeteries taking up over 80 acres of precious San Francisco real estate had to go to keep up with expansion of the flourishing city. The people of San Francisco voted and the city banned future burials within city limits and ordered for hundreds of thousands of bodies to be exhumed and moved down the pennisula to the city of Colma. Surviving family of the dead was contacted regarding the relocation of their relatives. If no family was found the Department of Public Works used those headstones to build seawalls at Ocean Beach and for rain gutters in other parts of the city. The land currently is the Laurel Heights neighborhood and the only original structure that remains is the San Francisco Columbarium, a repository for cremated remains.

The passage of time weighs heavily on me now having a parent that resides on the other side of the veil. Who will remember and honor the dead from the generations to come. What is the environmental impact of traditional burial practice as we know it today for future generations. There is an obvious need for unpacking and removing the stigma of death and grief in America..

I wanted to share some energetic practice for protection and clean up if you are considering working with or around the dead. These are general rules of thumb that I have gleaned over the years in my spiritual practice and in no way is a complete list. Always listen to your intuition first and foremost.

1. Protect yourself with either protective gemstones, herbs or a combination of both. Black tourmaline is highly effective as well as bay leaves, Rosemary, lavender and mullein. Call in guides, Angels, ancestors etc to cover you in protective light.

2. Ask for permission and make an offering. They will be specific with what they want from you in return.

3. Listen to your intuition. If you feel any feelings that make you uncomfortable stop right away.

4. If any unwanted attachments occur retrace your steps. Listen to what their asking for to make it right.

5. Cover yourself in bright light and command the attachment to leave. Call in assistance from angels, guides etc to back you up. Stand in your power and don’t be afraid even if you’re afraid.

6. Burn herbal smudge to send a stronger message if the entity won’t leave. Bay leaves, Rosemary, frankincense will all work. Use homegrown white sage ONLY as a last ditch effort if nothing at all is working. You can also bang pots and pans together or play a singing bowl very loudly going from room to room just as you would with smoldering herbs.

Winter Solstice Musings and Ritual, Death and Birth in the 1950s, and Ancestral Healing

TRIGGER WARNING: INFANT LOSS

I would be lying if I said that certain Christmas songs didn’t bring me to tears. I’ve curated a playlist on Spotify of classic holiday songs that remind me of my childhood, a playlist on heavy rotation for the last 6 weeks. There is something so comfortably nostalgic about Dean Martin singing “Silver Bells” I immediately time travel to the late 1950s and 1960s of my grandmothers era. She was a ceramic artist and made hand painted ceramic Christmas bell tree ornaments that my Dad would sell door to door around the neighborhood for a quarter each. Every year they were a hit.

For many, the holiday season is tough, dealing with difficult family, missing departed loved ones, or wishing for family to share holiday cheer with. Rightfully so Yule, Christmas and Winter Solstice have always been a time of year to enjoy the company of others, keeping the traditions of our ancestors going.

In many European pagan traditions Winter Solstice at its most basic, is the feast celebration of the sun, personified as a god or goddess reborn to illuminate the Earth and the promise of Springtime and Imbolc (modern day Groundhog Day) is drawing nearer..This is the longest night and shortest day of the year observed as marking midwinter in some cultures or the beginning of winter in others. This was an immensely important astronomical event for communities dependent upon growing their own food. The survival of our ancestors during this time largely depended upon rationing their stored food from the previous 9 months of harvested crops, remaining animals were slaughtered to lessen the mouths to feed and fermented spirits were ready to drink. Despite this, survival was not guaranteed and during the winter months from January to April starvation was common. Thus, Winter Solstice became a celestial inspired celebratory midwinter feast time, in the event no one would survive the winter. Winter Solstice festivities also held psychological benefits as relief from seasonal depression and malaise..

With every turning of the wheel of the year, I always feel the veil between worlds thin because of the auspicious significance of the sabbats, some thin the veil more than others. I’ve witness the behavior of my cat and my son change during a sabbat, they both behave just a little more “wildly”..

Prior to my fathers death, it never occurred to me much that our ancestors could easily be walking between worlds and very close to us during this dark winter time. Ive very much have been feeling the presence of my ancestors in the weeks leading up to today. Christmas was my fathers favorite time of year. I know he very much wants to be able to experience Christmas again through me, which is what inspired this whole journey in the first place, his desire to experience life again as I am a living doorway to him in the spirit realm. Yesterday we spent the day at Golden Gate cemetery honoring the life of my Aunt and Uncle, my father’s siblings who died in infancy in 1954 and 1956. We also honored the life and visited with my Great Grandfather George and his wife Marie.

Last time I visited the cemetery I must’ve been around nine years old with my Dad to visit his siblings. I was so afraid to walk on the hollowed grounds being such a sensitive kid that I didn’t actually get out of the car. I can’t say that I didn’t feel a huge weight of anxiety when I walked around yesterday but I absolutely faced one of my fears of walking in the cemetery. For some reason the grass “smelled like death” to me and at one point I felt someone behind me who for sure wasn’t a relative, I think they were curious what we were doing or drawn to the baby. When I sat with my infant Aunt and Uncle whom are buried together I felt a tremendous weight of sadness ripple through time and space from my Father, for that moment I stood in the same place he has stood many times before, this time he was looking at the gravestone through my eyes instead of his. The tragic loss of their existence and what could’ve been, both of them would be old enough to have families of their own by now, it was a huge weight to feel. It felt important to bring my son there and to visit them regularly from now on since both of their parents and their older brother have joined them across the veil. Now that I am both a Mother and birth professional, I want to understand more about their cause of death from a clinical perspective and what their gestational age was when they passed away. I know I can maturely handle this now more than I ever could at any other time in my life no matter how heartbreaking the details could be. It feels urgently important to find out so I can quite literally energetically doula bereavement support for my Grandmother and Father through the veil.

Until recently infant loss certainly wasn’t an acceptable topic of discussion, my grandmother was no exception, she never spoke about it with family and any stories about them died with my Father. In my research I discovered the horrific history of infant loss in the 1950s. Although stillbirth was a common occurrence in the 1950s, when a baby was born sleeping they were immediately whisked away believing that it was psychologically better for the mother to never see her infant thinking it would be too emotionally stressful to allow her to view and hold her stillborn baby for the first and last time. Fetal ultrasounds were not widely used until the early 1970s and 1980s so unexpected birth outcomes were truly that. Men were also not allowed in the delivery room, not only was the mother immediately separated from her infant, she was also alone. The thought of the many women who silently carry this grief and were forced to carry on as if it never happened is an astronomically heartbreaking thought. How different would the world be now if infant death wasn't so hush hush and grief support was widely available. I would venture to say that postpartum depression for these women spanned decades after giving birth well into their crone years. The impact of the mother wound created from these traumatic births (during the baby boom women gave birth under heavy sedation and delivered by forceps) and unexpected birth outcomes has rippled down into subsequent generations, changing how modern mothers feel supported, experience pregnancy and birth and even parent their children.

Common Christian belief of the time dictated that babies born deceased did not go to either Christian heaven or hell that they went to a place called limbo and therefore we’re not actually allowed to receive proper burials, instead they were often buried in unmarked graves or the remains were simply discarded by the hospital. Because my Grandfather had served in the military, he was allotted space in the Golden Gate cemetery which is allocated for military and their family. The fact that these two babies were given an honorable resting place and most likely a funeral feels extremely sacred considering many others did not receive the same care.

When I woke up yesterday morning I felt a wave of excitement I believe from my Great Grandfather, an ancestor I’ve never connected with before, he knew we were coming to visit his grave, my first time ever meeting him. He died in 1973, ten years before I was born. My Dad deeply loved both of his grandfathers, and like many things he asks me regularly to do this was important for me to visit their graves so that we can experience them together. I am motivated now more than ever to research my ancestry so I’ve upgraded my ancestry.com membership to be able to have access to international records as I have ancestors that emigrated from Greece Ireland Australia England Russia and Mexico as recent as four generations ago.

Researching your ancestry is the easiest way to directly communicate with your ancestors, there is potent magic in that connection and knowing. It will give you a real idea of where to take your magical practice, how to honor the dead, what cultural practices and traditions are available to you, and how to heal trauma and racism in your bloodline.

It breaks my heart seeing that my Greek paternal great grandfather “prayed” on his petition to the naturalization board to change his last name from Apostolopoulos to shorter and “easier” Apostolos. A common practice for emigrants coming through Ellis Island, name changes by choice or force. I remember this being a big topic of discussion with my Grandmother, that her maiden last name wasn’t her REAL last name. I remember feeling as a child, her sorrow that she truly didn’t know who she was. Her mother was struck and killed by a cable car if front of their home, she was 41 and my grandmother was only 20. For many years after she longed to be able to know her maternal heritage, she suspected Russian heritage but couldn’t confirm that during her lifetime. Now I can confidently confirm with documented proof that her grandparents were in fact born in Russia, this accessible knowledge is a priceless gift.

Confusing racial identity doesn’t stop there. My maternal Mexican American ancestors have deep seated trauma woven into our family history, Indigenous peoples forced to assimilate and convert to Christianity through the missions in Southern Texas to falsely stating their race on the census documents, even birth certificates were marked with “W” for white. Closer to 1900 some were marked more accurately, between 1940 to 1950 those same family members changed their answers, the progression of change was an interesting observation. My grandfather Juan Reyes Cadena was in fact not white at all, as he had marked, he has no European ancestry (so far) that I have found. My own mother was bullied in school because she couldn’t speak English like all the other children, so she stopped speaking Spanish and never taught me or my sister. so it feels important to dig deeper into unpacking family history within the context of accurate world history, knowing choices made at the time were a matter in some cases for survival. My maternal ancestors have always been very close, long before ancestry work was even on my radar. They have been longing for healing for quite some time, it’s time to do the work.

In closing winter time is traditionally meant to be a time for inward focus, reflection and hibernation. I believe that because of this quieting of the outside world I have been able to more consciously hear the messages for my ancestors. Energy work beyond just giving it to myself has been a challenge in the last two weeks and it’s wildly obvious now that my focus was meant to shift to my bloodline. I wrote this solstice ritual as a way to move around stagnant energy within your energy body. I invite you to try it.

Winter Solstice Ritual 

Decorate your altar with a bundle of sprigs of evergreen branches such as pine, cedar, fir, juniper etc... Burn cedar, sagebrush, or sweetgrass to purify your body and space and set your intention to create a sacred space. Light a red, white or green candle and center yourself with a few deep breaths. Call in any ancestors or spirit guides to gentle assist and hold space for you. Next take your evergreen bundle and gentle dry brush and pat your body with the branches beginning at your feet and sweep up toward your heart. Take as much time as you like brushing your aura with the evergreen sprigs, while enjoying deep breaths of the fragrant evergreen sprigs release anything that no longer serves you. Allow the evergreen sprigs to purify, charge and bless your energetic body. Let your intuition tell you when you are done. Spend a few moments reflecting on what light you are going to call in to your life during the remainder of the winter season. When you are finished blow out your candle to close the sacred space and discard the evergreen branches outside away from your home preferably under a tree.

Motherhood and Pelican Medicine

In the months leading up to our move to California I found myself vacillating back and forth in the air around me, completely out of my body, as ungrounded as Ive ever been. I hadn’t been back in California in 7 years and hadn’t lived there in 11. I was a different person, 11 years older, married, working in a different career, and a new mom to a 5 month old baby boy.I turned the page from maiden to mother, I had answered my souls calling and became a doula and then a mother. I had become a woman.

My father had died exactly 2 years earlier when we decided to move home. In the month after he died I had this compulsion, almost daily to return home. There were moments it was so strong, I felt like I need to just take off, run back to Northern California on foot from Las Vegas. In mourning his death I spent a lot of time in my memories. A LOT. I would constantly astral travel to my beloved places that shaped the 24 years of my life when I lived in California. This was important work for me. I needed to unravel my childhood to cope with the sudden and rapid loss of my Dad. My childhood suddenly became my point of reference of how to raise my own child and left me feeling like the floor was pulled out from under me. I can't ask my Dad questions or seek his support and guidance. He wouldn't be around to tell any of his famous stories around the Christmas tree. A Virgo Leo cusp, my Dad was a natural performer and storyteller. My parents situation was very different than my present one, it became very confusing to navigate my new role of mom with just about zero similarities to how I grew up aside from living back in California. The death birth portal has been open in my life for the last two and a half years. The moment I got news of my fathers passing my first thought was he will never meet his grandchild, a year later our son was conceived. I put immense pressure on myself to "be ok for my son" as if I needed to hide my grief, something that would be nearly impossible seeing that my son reminds us so much of my beloved father. Since being home I see how important it was to work through this heaviness, that I will never be ok and I don't need to be. Mourning tears can flow at a moments notice and Im ok with my son seeing how deeply his Grandfather is loved. One of the reasons for living back in the place I grew up is to feel my fathers closeness, relive my childhood memories in real time, see the same cypress trees he saw growing up, and be held by the same foggy ocean air he was held by for 50 years. Completely by accident, we currently live very close to my fathers childhood home, may be not so accidental at all.

When we first moved here we found a beach that was at the bottom of a relatively steep sandy hill. I strapped Coyote in his baby carrier and hiked down the hill with my husband about an hour before the sunset. We noticed that the beach was covered with pelican feathers, different sizes and colors, some sticking out of the sand like obelisks. It’s important to us to get to know our new surroundings, begin nurturing a relationship with the land. To do that we spend lots of time learning about native plants, animals and birds and the medicine they bring. As a family we started collecting feathers, it felt like an important mission gathering the feathers, comparing the sizes, was it part of the wing or tail, what part of the wing did the feathers belong to. We continued to collect feathers until the sun set by then we had probably close to 30 feathers. I thanked the beach and the pelican for the gifts we collected. When I came home I started thinking more about the pelican and I found in my research that the pelican is a very important symbol of Christianity. The story of the pelican parallels story of the sacrifice of Jesus. I learned in one folktale a mother pelican would pierce her breast with her beak to draw blood to nourish her young.

"The long beak of the white pelican is furnished with a sack which serves as a container for the small fish that it feeds its young. In the process of feeding them, the bird presses the sack against its neck in such a way that it seems to open its breast with its bill. The reddish tinge of its breast plumage and the redness of the tip of its beak fostered the folkloristic notion that it actually drew blood from its own breast."

I realized how beautifully that paralleled the unfolding spiral of motherhood. Eternal sacrifice of nurturing your young losing of oneself sometimes by your own hand to nurture the baby at your breast. She very much reminds me of the comforting energy of Mother Mary, I guide I frequently call upon when I need to channel loving mothering energy. Motherhood is a daily walking meditation of realizations of the weight of your responsibility navigation of those new feelings the desire for community the harsh reality of the world we live in today is an anything like the world we grew up in. The modern mother becomes a mother to many things in her life her babies her partner family her commitments her job. The mother herself often gets pushed to the wayside because of the energy it takes to nurture everything around her. The modern mother puts pressure on herself maybe experiences shame or guilt or both perhaps the outside world tells her that she’s not enough she’s not doing enough she didn’t love hard enough today. She loses her cool or makes mistakes the harshest critic is always herself. But a mother pelican is never lost at sea, she is an expert swimmer. Mother pelican taught me that my instinct is stronger than any outside force and will remain with me when the rest of the world falls away. Pelican medicine helped me navigate the shift of moving back home and the ever evolving symbiotic journey of death and motherhood. Dads death too brings pelican medicine, through his transition from the earth plane, my son was born. I am so grateful that I met Mother Pelican.

One of the most important practices I’ve employed in my self care arsenal is calling my energy back at the end of every day. Every thought or feeling, positive or negative that we send out into the world toward a person, thing, idea etc has a cord attachment to it. Think of this practice as energetic hygiene. Finding and dedicating time to meditate while raising little ones can be challenging so this easy practice can be done at the end of every day while lying in bed.

First envision yourself bubbled in rainbow light for protection. Sit with that visual for just a minute are you center in ground yourself letting go of any thoughts from the day that may be playing in the background. Gently bring yourself back to center if your mind drifts. Now see all of the energy cords that are connected to your body. They may be attached to your abdomen or another part of your body. You may be able to visualize what or who the cords are attached to, it’s ok if you don’t see the other end too. Begin to slowly pull them back toward you like winding up a rope. Keep seeing them wind up toward you until they reach the end of the line. Cap the end of the ropes with unconditional love so that nothing will attach to the cords that isn’t meant to be attached. Feel the feeling of all of your energy returned to you to be recycled for the next day. Sit with that feeling for as long as you like, you are now done with calling your energy back.