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THE Initiatrix 🔥 guiding women home to their truth through cyclical wisdom, ritual & earth medicine.
Temple Door keeper of @therosetemplevenue
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There’s a deep and mysterious power in one woman rising. But when we rise together, held in the love, strength and trust of sisterhood, something ancient awakens. We become a force woven from love, courage, and vulnerability… rising in the power of women remembering who we are.

My heart overflows with love and gratitude for the beautiful sisters who gathered with us on our Womb Awakening Facilitator Training Retreat.

Each woman arrived with an open heart. In the safety of our container, she laid down her armour, let herself be seen, trusting and surrendering into the unknown. And from that place of deep descent, she found her treasures and rose in her soft, embodied power, reclaiming the wisdom of her Womb.

The feeling of love was palpable, a living current moving through the field, a deep aliveness, with waves of pleasure rippling through our space. The sacred pulse of Shakti flowed through us, as us… a remembrance beyond words, alive in every cell.

To witness the transformation in each woman… to feel the medicine of true sisterhood… to stand in the presence of pure love and raw innocence… and to walk beside my sisters as they reclaim their voice, their truth, their magic… is something I’ll never take for granted.

Thank you to my wonderful support facilitators, @racheldeeringwomenswellness , @triple___goddess , and @beccie_scales . Your presence, care, and devotion were deeply felt by all.

And to all the women who journeyed with us, thank you, beloved sisters. You carry this flame now. May it guide your path and light the way for others ✨💗✨

@theinstituteoffenininearts

So grateful to our amazing photographer @daniel.sun___  for capturing the essence and magic of our time together so beautifully 🙏🏼

#wombawakening #womensretreat #womenswork #baliretreat #femininerising #priestesstraining #wombhealing
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There is a quiet kind of beauty in death, one that is often overlooked in the shadow of grief. It is the hush before the final breath, the space between worlds where time stretches thin, and something ancient stirs. I have always believed that death is not an end, but a passage—a sacred threshold we all must cross when called. And when Pippa, my beloved greyhound, stood at that threshold, I knew it was my role to walk beside her, to guide her with love as she stepped through the veil.

For weeks, she lingered in the liminal space, her spirit neither fully here nor entirely beyond. I could see it in her eyes—the way they gazed past me, into something unseen yet familiar. She carried the wisdom of all creatures who have known deep rest, waiting for the moment when the body no longer holds them bound. I waited with her, honoring her pace, listening for the unspoken message that would tell me she was ready.

And then, one day, it came. A knowing settled in my bones, gentle but resolute. It was time.

We prepared for the crossing as one would prepare for a great journey. I anointed her with sacred oils—frankincense for the spirit, myrrh for the passage, rose for the heart, and gold for the light that would carry her forward. She was adorned with flowers, each petal a prayer, each bloom a farewell. As we walked together to the gates between this world and the next, there was no fear, only reverence. I whispered blessings into her fur, telling her how loved she was, how free she would soon be.

Death, when met with grace, is not cruel. It is a tender hand, a beckoning homeward. I felt it as she took her final breath—the peace that settled over her, the stillness that was not empty but full. The air shimmered with something unseen, and I knew she had stepped through.

Grief would come later, curling itself around me in quiet moments, in the spaces she once filled. But in that moment, there was only beauty. The bittersweet, aching beauty of love that has been fulfilled, of a life that has come full circle. And in the silence she left behind, I heard the whisper of eternity: love never leaves, it only changes form.

#petloss #deathanddying #griefandlove #ritesofpassage
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