Opening to Darkness: Gate 2
I blew up my life.
With a party hat on, I said goodbye to my old life. To being a wife. To being a diminished version of myself.
The cave is a place that is both inviting and formidable—the place where painful, slow metamorphosis occurs. I’ve just crossed the threshold. For the next 6 months, I’ll be digging through the darkness for the parts of myself I’ve buried over the past 7 years. May they be the tailsmen to whom I will become.
My best friend, Meg Sells, recommended a book to help me on my journey. In the first chapter of Comfortable with Uncertainty by Pema Chödrön, she mentions how spiritual awakenings are described as journeys to the top of the mountain, however, the path does not go up to the sky, instead it goes deeper into the earth. Instead of transcending the suffering, we move towards turbulence and doubt. We surrender to the unknown.
Days before taking my first step towards the cave, I moved on to Gate 2 of Opening to Darkness by Zenju Earthlyn Manuel. Below is my reflection and a few more journal entries.
Thanks for braving the darkness of this side quest with me. More soon.
Ras Bad
Train dump- March 18, 2025 @ 4:52 pm
I can’t believe I’m heading to rehearsal early. But I’m actually excited to work and interpret and make new choices.
I’m also excited because things seem clearer between [redacted] and me. But I also can’t help but think about my relationships with women, queer women, period. I seek kinship, closeness, and platonic intimacy. Then, naturally, I look at my relationship with [redacted]. He’s all bottled up and I feel distance, but I know through to my core that he loves me. I wish for us to both make different choices. Healthier choices.
I want to make more money so I can be financially independent. I want to feel like an equal in my relationship. I don’t need to make the same amount of money, but enough for me to afford a studio apt on my own. I want to feel less trapped. Like, he doesn’t hold power over me. He doesn’t treat me like he does, but sometimes he jokingly threatens me with homelessness. I don’t like that joke. I know he’s a good man, but I’ve got to make sure that I am in control of my own life, regardless of what happens between us.
That’s when I’ll feel ready to get married. When I know I have a way out that’s on my terms. No moving back to KC. I want to stay in NY for as long as it makes sense. I want to travel the world.
Opening to Darkness: Gate 2- April 9, 2025 @ 7:29 am
Before the meditation could really begin, I’d already awoken to the moon shining down on me. I was lying on the muddy forest floor, wearing a white dress. I originally called Cassius [my deceased cat] to help me, but when I realized how muddy the forest floor was, I sent him back. He’d hate this. Then appeared a large dog, like Lady. Big glowing eyes, tan coat. I knew I could trust her. Her knowledge of the valley and forest, and all its creatures, made me feel so safe. I asked her how to navigate this dark time, and she bolted off into the woods. I ran after her, clawing my way through the shrubs, up the mountain until we hit a cliff. With a fire in the center, there was a giant pack of dogs. All Lady-like. Puppies even. Getting mauled by puppies was the best feeling in the world. I knew loud and clear that I would need to rely on my community for support during this time. This was not the time for hyper-independence.
Later in the meditation, I shared bodies with my familiar. I heard what she heard, saw what she could see. In the distance, my highest dark self appeared. An Earth Mother of sorts. Slightly older, long grey locs down to her knees. Naked and tattooed. We took what was left of my relationship and we buried it. It felt like burying a child. But as we covered it with dark soil, the magic of my Highest Dark self came through her hands, and beautiful foliage sprang from the soil. She held my face, and I realized I was naked. Naked and sure. If that is Who I’ll become on the other side of this, I am ready.
I’m going to break the news to [redacted]. I have a ton of prep to do, but I know who to ask and for what. I have a pack of wise Lady-like companions on my side.
Train thoughts- April 19, 2025 @ 10:14 am
It’s been a week since I blew up my life, and I’m feeling very alive. Free even. The amount of creative downloads that have come in to help me process my grief is overwhelming and supportive. I won’t let guilt taint this magic. It’s a useless emotion that only serves to punish myself for choosing myself. What’s the point in that? This path is already riddled with obstacles no need to add extra toppings to this table.
I think I finally understand what ties my art together. Grief. I know grief well in all her shades and colors. But I can actually see how one piece or project speaks to the other. How it can hold it all up. I truly am a force.
I keep thinking about my gallery show and how to incorporate my sister’s artwork as well. How the larger performances fits in one way vs the gallery being another. There must always be an altar. ALWAYS. I will always create ways for people to honor themselves, their loved ones, their dreams, their grief.
I’m excited to figure out how to make this headdress made of masks. I’m also curious if I can create a rig that allows me to wear all the masks at once, but still be able to take them off one by one. Maybe magnets? Faces of grief. Grief archetypes.
From the guest room - April 20, 2025 9:34 am
Love feels elusive, but I know that’s just the wound talking. Facing my fears around love head-on in community has been the best form of healing for me. How could I not be worthy when everyone who surrounds me sees me deeply? How beautiful that truly is. How lucky I truly am. But sometimes it feels like pity. I know it’s not, but that’s what it feels like. There is so much more work ahead of me. The love I’ve sought after in the eyes of others is also deep within me.
I now understand that unconditional love is not the healthiest version of it. Healthy love must have conditions. There must be boundaries, otherwise I set myself up to disappear into others. When I am alone, I am the healthiest version of myself. I am whole, bright, strong, boisterous. When I come together with another, I shrink, shift, and sacrifice in ways that make me unrecognizable. I sacrifice my power on the altar of love. When it should be the opposite. Coming together should increase the brightness of my fire. Expansion should be possible.
Sacrifice feels like the ultimate form of love, but it can be the biggest form of self-betrayal. I believe in abundance. I believe in the possibilities that all of our needs can be met. I also now believe that I am worthy of love that does not require me to sacrifice myself to receive it. I must stay in tact. My soul demands it. My magic demands it. Hell, I demand it.
It’s funny how I never used to have the energy to leave the house more than once, but now I leave all the time to see and do things that interest me. Solo concerts, trips to the bookstore, DJ sets, and more. I want to take a dance class, get back into boxing, learn a new visual medium. I want to learn and collect string instruments from around the world. I want to go around the world. See the things I’ve only read about. Touch the soil and meet the spirits of foreign lands. I’m curious what new versions of myself will arise. I can’t wait to meet them.
Long live st. Felicia Francis! ♥️
I fucking love you so much