Death Portal and Magnolia Spirit

Last year I was dieting the Priest of the Forest, the Almighty Oak. He came to me and said that I can dissolve in his presence, and I felt a lot of pressure of finding that safe space that will allow me to do that. I’ve died many times in ceremonies and I would always have someone trustworthy next to me knowing that I am going in the Underworld. They somehow would be the anchor I needed for my piece of mind to know that I am held, and someone knows where I am going.

My ancestors guided me to a beautiful medicine woman, to attend a silent sweatlodge. I brought the medicine of Oak to her and all participants, and I told her about this.

She said I can go on and do what I must do, but during the sweatlodge I was taken into a different journey, the story on my intra-uterine life – and that is for some other time.

This theme came back in January when I dieted Magnolia, the Grandmother of Gentleness and Love. I felt guided to cook the medicine in a different way that it was communicated by the Shaman who hold my diet. I knew this is going to impact me as dieting a tree requires to accommodate a big energy, and Magnolia was one of the Elders on our Earth. She saw us evolve and she has been here for million of years. Her wisdom and patience are out of this world.

I cried when the diet opened for me. All my allies were there, and I felt all the support I needed and that I was missing. Somehow, along this path that keeps disappearing, I forget how much love and how many friends I have, and Mags reminded me of this. The first 6 days all I could do was stay in bed and just die over and over again, making space for her medicine. I had my tea in the morning and in the evening and I would keep having conversations with her, asking all sorts of stuff. My flesh, my bones were aching, I had this deep sense of releasing, of giving up on my desires and just surrender to the process.

I knew that I could not sweep under the rug anymore the dissolving that Oak invited me to. While both know very well death and the change in seasons, I felt that Magnolia could hold me, and I deep dived in a shamanic journey of decomposing and being teared apart. It brought up issues of safety and issues of suffering. It brought up to light my relationship with death and life, which to be honest, I knew there was something more to it.

Shamanic death is the place I feel safe. In the process of dying, I feel so peaceful and alive at the same time. Knowing that I will turn to dust, that I do not have to achieve anything, that I am.

There is no rush, there is no goal, there is no purpose, no divine mission, there is nothing to do, no one needs to be saved, no one needs to be protected, it’s one big cosmic joke and play. We play pretend and we take all these stories and try to make something out of them. All that is are stories and roles that we choose to play. I remembered so well through out my life that I was conscious of my decisions. Whether I choose to do. I knew when I did something wrong and when I did something good. Change "good" and "right" to anything you want to. People know what they are doing. They know the power of their words and actions. They know when they are manipulating, they know when they lie, they know when they try to get something with all costs. They know. They are fully aware of their duality, and they act because they need to maintain their role. It may be victim, it may be perpetrator, it may be savior. They need to keep up with the role.

And I know it better because I have experienced it. When people need you there is this high that appears “Oh, I am needed, I can do something for the other person”. And of course, we need each other. Otherwise, we would do our own foraging and grow our own plants. There are so many people involved in the basic act of food and bringing food to us. We depend on each other. There is also the reverse of the story when you need to have a perpetrator, so you can continue to be the victim. Heck, I’ve made my mother the Villain of them all, and yet that was not the truth.

We assign each other roles without consent and that is the truth. As long as we act from unconsciousness this game of suffering and healing will go on forever. And sometimes we play just too many roles, we get lost in them and forget how to get back to our essence.

Daughter, Friend, Enemy, Employee, Cat Mother, Medicine Woman, Sister, Villain, Lover, Wife, Shaman etc. The list is infinite and when we realize that we can pick and choose any role, the question arises “Who am I when I don’t play any role?”

Death has this magic power of putting life into perspective. And that’s why I believe we are here, to share perspectives, to get creative and to tell stories. In Romanian folklore there are stories about Water of Death and Water of Life. The hero is helped by unexpected providence and receives these gifts and needs wisdom to know how to use them on the journey. Just like that, discernment is the greatest gift that one can cultivate on the path.

If there is something that Magnolia and Death have taught me is that I need to let go of things, relationships that were already dying and stop pouring Life on what needs to die, just because I’m scared of the unknown. And, to pay attention to the seeds and not pour Death on them, just because they have not reached the surface. Our ancestors knew about these cycles, and they honored them and themselves as they lived them.

It's been a year since I decided to pour water of Life on myself, and I was surprised to see how many relationships I kept on going because I would water them while there was no reciprocity. I was also pleasantly surprised of how I changed when I decided to give myself what I was giving to others. I did not mind being the villain in others stories, the crazy woman, the woo woo one, the idiot and so far. Because I could see through their game.

Magnolia was the grandmother presence I missed so much. She had patience with me throughout this entire process. And Death has always been my friend since childhood and for many years I’ve walked in between worlds. I am the bridge, and I accept that the Dead and the Living are part of my reality. We never lacked awareness, we lacked ownership of the roles we choose to play and asked others to play in our stories. Acceptance feels so damn good in the body. Like the Water of Life and Water of Death working together. Being in service to others is also being in service to yourself.

After the intensity of the Magnolia’s teachings, it was time for me to work with tincture from her flower buds and not use her bark anymore. The rest of my diet she has been a silent companion, supporting me in recovering and being more grounded in my body. Her last-minute teaching was about sacrifice and its role in my life, and that is for another story to tell.

In service to the journey,

Alexandra, Guardian of Ianara