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Musings of an Awakening Spirit

Stories, poetry & general musings of Rebecca Haywood, a modern-day Shaman with a penchant for bringing the divine into the human experience.

A Comedic Lesson in Humility

The moon has been showing a sliver of a smile—crooked, like she’s up to some mischief. So I thought it time to share another side of my death process—the lighter side of the dark side—and the laughter that often joins my tears in a full-bellied, full spectrum rainbow of emotions. Death can offer quite the feast if we let Her and She has a great sense of humor—one that, like most comedy, bares a deeper truth.

Let me preface this divine comedy with a little background: when we are working through a trauma, we can experience a brain fog that diminishes our ability to navigate life. The brain’s attentional and executive functions—impulse and emotional control, memory, task initiation, prioritization, and organization—may not be firing the way they normally do. This can arrive in prolonged or swift waves, triggered by even the smallest pebble tossed into our ocean of emotion.

Though I knew my Death process had trudged up some hidden trauma, I was definitely underestimating the effect it was having on me. That is, until it nearly ran me over...

I was at the end of a very challenging few weeks: my new LA home needed just about every repair you could think of and ones you wouldn’t want to even imagine. [‘Is this a reflection of my process?’ she says as she strips calcified sewage from her floor.] And with the rains (apparently no one does anything when it’s raining here), the lovely maintenance guy, Miguel, was a constant no show. So I had tackled most of the repairs myself, including purchasing a new shiny red refrigerator. Yay! I could finally go food shopping!

I hop into my Jeep, Sunny, and... she won’t start. I nearly burst into tears. “Mother, why have you forsaken me?!” I really was that dramatic and now, pissed. I extract my tool kit from the back of the Jeep, tighten the offending battery terminal and slam the hood shut in a tantrum-like manner. I start driving off and realize the Jeep’s back gate is still open. Whoops! So I jump out to correct my blunder and Sunny starts to roll down the hill (!) right into a corvette parked behind me (!!) with her gate door aimed like a knife at its shiny hood (!!!).

Well, in my brain fog, I jump behind Sunny and attempt to catch her weight, my cowgirl boots sliding on the pavement. Somehow, as we both slip towards our pending fate, I manage to close the gate with one hand and wrestle my boots (and my energy) to grab the earth once again. Our fate is paused just feet from the corvette.

There I am, holding her weight, wondering, ‘Ok, now what the f do I do?’, no help in sight and no wedges in reach to toss under her tires (those were now securely behind the gate I had just closed). Then, as if in answer to my profane prayer, a cop car appears. But do I stop him? Nnnope. I. Just. Watch. Him. Roll. By. [pause for laughter] I eventually decide to carefully ease Sunny’s weight down the hill into the corvette, praying for the gentlest kiss of their bumpers.

A tender romance it was—no damage done except to my ego—but as I drove off, laughing at and crying for myself, I knew that despite my superwoman display of power, I had indeed been compromised by this trauma and it was time to ask for help... time to admit not defeat but yes, need. My trusty boots were sliding and I had been attempting to hold the weight by myself.

Many of us—veterans of trauma and spiritual warriors alike—tend to stubbornly flex our power in the face of life’s challenges. We think that ‘going it alone’ is the way and displays true strength. But we all need allies. We all need support. And when we admit vulnerability, a greater strength arrives—an army of allies that can bear a bit of the weight and laugh with us as the divine comedy unfolds.

So don’t forget to ask for help... lest you find yourself, like me, slipping into a very costly lesson of humility.

(And Miguel? He now wants to study with me. Says he wasn’t sure if Naguals actually existed anymore but now that he’s seen me shape-shift from a beautiful woman to a carpenter, a plumber, and a mechanic, he is a believer. 🤣)

Perfect Pain
The Death of Prince Charming (repost)

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