I’ve mentioned in a few places that I was plunged into a spiritual descent this past winter, initiated in a way I haven’t experienced in a long time. The details of the experience ask to remain mostly private, but what I will share is that it was extraordinary: extraordinarily terrifying and extraordinarily alive.

Something bigger than me – my unconscious, priestess of night – grabbed me on a November afternoon, just after the time change and the loss of light, and dragged me into its womb. The only way through – or the way that was presented to me – required a profound deepening of my spiritual practice.

I was held aloft by song,

buoyed by starlight and moon belly that

requested my own voice

to be a bridge to steadiness, to wholeness.

Towards the end of the 7-week apprenticeship, I heard this song at a winter solstice concert. It spoke directly to an element of what I was journeying through. Here’s the chorus (I highly recommend listening to the full song):

Sing to the moon and the stars will shine
Over you, lead you to the other side
Sing to the moon and the stars will shine
Over you, heaven’s gonna turn the time

Like all good initiations – and by “good” I don’t mean fun or happy as to be initiated must include element of terror by definition – I emerged transformed.

I am still unpacking what emerged, still finding the words that can hold its shape, but what I know and knew all along is that my spiritual practices were essential to survive the descent and gather the runes of light that are always glimmering in the belly of these dark caves.

When I shared what was happening with my sister-friend, Lisa, who is a rabbi, she said, “Spiritual practice is our medication. We need it daily.”

It’s true. This has been true for decades, but before this descent I had a lot more leeway; if I missed a few days, I was still steady.

That is no longer the case.

My practices continue to be my root, my anchor, the foundational stone of my days and mostly my nights. If a couple of days pass without the practices, I feel unsteady, like a piece of me has been left behind. The most important piece.

I believe that this is true for everyone; I believe we’re all thirsty for regular, meaningful spiritual practices. Even if you’re not in a dark night of the soul, we are all being knocked off our center these days because of the global transitions we’re in.

Highly sensitive people feel the world is breaking open, because it is, and we need steady internal structures that can support us. In the past, we found these spiritual technologies and the columns of community through organized religion, but for many people, this has lost its luster (and many have experienced religious trauma). Even if organized religion is a source of comfort for you, I believe that we’re still being asked to find our own, meaningful spiritual practices that we can bring into our homes and practice daily; our personal, individualized ways of connecting with a divine source.

This is what I teach in Grace Through Uncertainty – a roadmap to create your own personal, spiritual practices that can hold worry and the fear of loss – and I’ve never been so excited to lead this course. If my spiritual practices hadn’t been firmly in place, the 7-weeks in winter would have looked very different. And while I was propelled to both my metaphoric and literal meditation cushion (some mornings I couldn’t get to my mat and pillow and tallit and prayerbook and trees and candlelight quickly enough), I wasn’t expecting to deepen the practices to the depth that I did.

From this place, I would love to guide you to establish or deepen your own spiritual practices so that you rely on these sources of support as you navigate this season, and this life.

If I had one remedy for intrusive thoughts, worry, anxiety, and OCD, this would be it: to know and regularly reach for the places that connect you to something bigger than yourself, to your wholeness, to a reliable resting place where we know that everything is okay.

I hope you’ll join us for the 6th round of Grace Through Uncertainty: A 30-day course to heal worry at the root and become more comfortable with change, which will begin on Saturday June 24th, 2023, and includes two live group coaching calls and consistent support in a beautiful forum community.

I very much look forward to guiding and meeting you there.

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