I am told I am seen by so many,
I’m not seen in the room I’m in.
I am told my words are a balm, helpful
I am not heard in the room I’m in
I am told I am valued, touched so many
I am alone in the room I’m in
Standing Still at the Speed of Light
Writing, true life, random facts and fiction
I am told I am seen by so many,
I’m not seen in the room I’m in.
I am told my words are a balm, helpful
I am not heard in the room I’m in
I am told I am valued, touched so many
I am alone in the room I’m in
Do you know what the true quiet quitting is?
When you want the time, attention, effort and energy you put out to be appreciated and in some form returned and you come to the realization it is not.
When you yearn so much to be validated, seen, and heard, and when you recognize it doesn’t materialize and you just give up.
Quietly of course, your opinions get quieter and smaller, you begin to ask less, you begin to do less and you feel the shrinking taking place.
It happens in small ways at first, and not in every place in your life at the same time. It’s barely even noticeable because nothing was noticeable to begin with in that space.
Until finally the space that you took up is all but folded it on itself and winked out like a little fairy light.
That my friends is a quiet quitting,
everyone trying so hard to be heard and very few taking the time to listen. We eventually stop putting in the extra time and attention in the places we feel undervalued.
This happens in every place we inhibit, work, school, friend relationships, family relationships- our daily lives.
Nothing is ever truly balanced, that is one of life’s hard truths. Another, is that no one ( not even ourselves) can live up to the expectations we create. Compassion and understanding are needed for moments of unbalance, but should not have to be the space you always operate from.
Perhaps this is the truest form of self love? To often this disconnect is unnoticed, or blame shifted to the person receding. A reaction of fear that the person/place being receded from may need to be accountable.
What are/have you quietly quit? What was the outcome? Who has quietly quit from a work or personal relationship with you? Do you understand, will you admit your role in the dissolution? Have you ever noticed the places you quietly quit on yourself?
Lately the anxiety is bubbling just under the surface. I have had a wild month. Slings, arrows, bricks, mortar, silence and a deafening cacophony.
I had a big slip- with some help I fought back most of the way.
I have been fighting hard to breath life into the amazing opportunities in front of me.
To not be crushed by feelings of doubt and inadequacies. To not rely on ample input from the outside. To believe the reasons I’ve been given about why I’m the one who can accomplish these tasks. To trust I’m making the right choices. To not build my hopes of success by the involvement or encouragement of others. To choose carefully how I build, what I build and with who.
Trust trust trust myself
Today is shaky. Today is overwhelming. Today is very isolating. I know this place. And today, in this glorious Solstice, I cant seem to find it in me to get the monsters to be quiet, I cant seem to shake the dark. I cant seem to find my way. I am tired. I am sore. I have no voice but the inside screaming isn’t stopping.
Yet…. I have to, and I will do what needs to be done today. Measured breath, clenched jaw, head down and do what I can. Ride it out.
So tonight when I am finished doing what I must, I’m going to go to my favourite places amongst the trees, maybe find a Fae door or two. Breathe, ground, and let this finally wash through me. To let the God(dess) hold me steady, this too shall pass.
I didn’t get my first tattoo until I was beginning my 40s. In a few days, I’ll be 49. Today I just got my 9th tattoo.
Each tattoo is a symbol for something. This past decade I have been through some very dark moments, and have shed many things of myself.





Things started to get a little shaky for me. Mental health wise I shut down. A mix of burnout and elevation of anxiety and old trauma surfacing. Being compounded by upheaval and high tension around me.




I have been doing intense work over the last year. Working on releasing trauma patterning, learning about myself, the light and dark. At times the realizations have been hard. The pain uncovered, the isolation. Things I want to repair but am unsure how, setting firm boundaries. Again I’ve called to the Morrigan to remind me that I’m am strong, a worthy warrior.

I do not know what this last year of my 40s will bring, what I do know is, that this past decade has had incredible highs and lows. I’ve gained and lost so much. I am hoping my 50s will be more learning but less drops. I know it will be recorded, the pictures on my skin a reminder to myself of my journey, my growth and my power.
A moment of stillness
Silence
Peace
I closed my eyes
As the busyness dulled
As the din receded
A breath so deep and full
The tension in my muscles
Melted
Relieved
The pain the memories bring
Quieted
Soothed
A break from the battle
Gratitude
I want to tell a chapter.
So easy to write of dragons, heros, battles and mystical villains.
But this chapter is ripe with horrible truth. One that runs on a loop in my head.
To tell the story, I need the words, but they have disappeared.
Fear, anger, a sadness so deep I don’t know if it has a bottom.
To keep it trapped in my head will surly pull me back into muck that I’ve fought my whole life to get out of.
I want to tell a chapter but it’s ugly and dark. It is not for everyone. And I can understand. But I can’t hold this on my own.
Trust, the words are coming. I’m trying. Trust, I am not alone. I’m trying.
I want to tell a chapter
Other stories on this blog do a decent job of explaining a few things about me. As this journal progresses I imagine so much more will be revealed. But a little back story to what brought me to this ‘start point’.
I’m firmly entrenched in midlife, chronologically but in my head I still feel like I’m in my early 20s- I’d like to think that is perpetuated by my eternal curiosity.
I had a lot of trauma in my younger years. I have GAD ( generalized anxiety disorder) and CPTSD, those two combined at time are a big rollercoaster of hellish fun.
I struggle with chronic pain, some resulting from my mental health issues, some from old injuries and sadly I’m sure some is a little from age.
I am a practicing Pagan, a Grey Witch ( if such a title is needed).
I am a survivor of rape and abuse.
I work as a massage therapist, energy healer, teacher, tarot reader, intuitive and writer.
I am a mother to an incredible teen daughter and a biological mother to an amazing young man.
I am a wife, sister and friend.
I am amazingly strong and easily hurt.
I have hope that seems to stay like a beacon of light even when I feel taken down by despair
How did I come to the ‘dark night’ awakening?
I can not pin point one moment, but a cascade of things.
I dreaded my 40s for as long as I could remember, a fatalistic view really. My mother died at 44, I was 12. That death shadow hung over me, somewhere in my head I had always believed I too would be gone young. To that end, I did enough for my mental health to ‘survive’ to keep a lid on all the poison. I had fooled myself into believing I had a handle on my ‘stuff’. Because honestly could someone who didn’t ‘have it together’ how could I achieve so much?
I thought I had begun to do positive work, building a strong life.
Just after my 45th birthday there was a tipping event involving betrayal, abandonment, humiliation and a break down of self.
I was so lost, just trying to make it through the day and fill the expectations of the roles I play. My anxiety was getting worse, social anxiety symptoms that I hadn’t experienced in years took me down hard. To complicate matters, within a year, as a planet we entered a pandemic that is ongoing and we are feeling the acceleration of the effects of climate change. The darkness and fear was closing in. The grasping of things, friends, comprise of self, use of substances for escape all becoming a sand trap I was silently drowning in.
The cross roads epiphany struck like lightening ‘work through this, find your life spark or face soul and/or real death.’
First came the stacks of books, workshops and podcasts. I journaled, I had recognitions, insight and so much, however the amount of information and emotion surfacing became overwhelming.
Then the inner knowledge I need help filtering the all information in relation to myself. Due to the tipping event I did not feel that anyone in my circle was a reliable source of deep support. Also knowing that I was entering a place of really wanting to be able to observe myself with a ( hopefully loving) critical eye, professional help was needed. This was hard for me, I had not done therapy since I was a kid, I’d always believed I was self sufficient/smart enough to work through my things with books, workshops and podcasts. Finally making that decision, I was choosing self love. The Shadow work was really about to take a deep direction.
And so it began…
I no longer fit.
Every title
Every category
you’ve ever given me
no longer applies
by your terms.
In the same breath
to cross my lips
would be
thank you fuck you
It’s been exhausting to
Please
Defy
You –
much is met with indifference
Horror
Admiration
I shrank to meet your comfort
I bloomed for your
Entertainment
I died a thousand times
To be remade in desired image
Ignored
Bled dry
Imprisoned by Worship
Impaled by disdain
I no longer fit
I will grow
I will learn
Defined
by my own Terms
When do you call time?
Jam your hands and feet against the wall
Brace against the fall.
STOP
Enough now, it’s time.
From a distance what you’d have witness would be this.
A beautiful scene. Tall tower, blue sky-
The cracks began to show.
In a blink fire, explosion
The tower collapses
Ruble everywhere.
STOP
The destruction is done, no more
The air acrid with smoke- the tower has fallen
The sky blotted out, the tower is no more.
The landing was painful
I am not unscathed
There is blood, breaks, putrid wounds
Tears, fear, a heavy heart
STOP
Stillness, let it settle, let the pieces fall
Time to clean wounds, set the breaks
Wipe the soot from my eyes.
The lightening dark, clearing of smoke.
This hurts, but it’s purifying
Dissolve to ash.
STOP
Time to start again, from the elements
Air, Water, Fire, Earth,
Spirit
Weave together, first form the heart
Then breath.
Bone, nerve, muscle
Skin- sensation
Brain, thought, creative, memory
Ahh memory and wisdom
Those scars I’ll bear
BEGIN
The sky lightens
Inky darkness passes
The sun not yet breaking the horizon
Grey mystic light, hovering
Magic folk still revelling in the dissipating shadows
Dancing in the dew, charting courses by the stars
They call to me
Have faith, you are moving closer to your heart
Your magic has not dimmed, only covered by the din of everyday
Come to dance, in the cool wet grass
Remember who you are
Who you were, before you gave it away
Call the pieces home, take back the self you shared to those who did not see
The weave of spells that you are
A chorus of birds to sing me home
Blessed be the Witches in the magic of the dawn.