When Soul Fragments Return

For those of you who know me, you know that I enjoy writing and always have. Writing as always been a favorite form of expression and something that allows me to speak. Often times I feel a pen or a keyboard allows me to speak more than my own throat does, or at least in ways clearer than my busy thoughts allow my mouth. That being said, the blog posts you may see from me will be anything from educational to more journal like content.

For those of you who know me, you will also know that I have always had a hard time relying on faith. I like explanations. I like things to be explained to me, shown to me, proven to me, and to see all of the dots connect all at once. If there is anything my time working with Crow as a mentor taught me, it was patience. If there was anything our work moving forward has taught me, it has been faith. Because somehow, by having that faith - being able to "flow" as I was often scolded to early on, all of the other things came.

And that, started to happen right after the event I am preparing myself to attempt to write about happened. The night that the lost pieces of my soul came screaming back to me.

Before I can talk about that night, those of you who don't know me should probably understand how my soul got ripped apart a bit to begin with. It happens all the time, honestly, to many people in many different ways - often traumatic. For me, I was eighteen and wrecked my car into a tree at 75 mph. I spent the majority of the next 15 years suffering from PTSD around the event and the coma that followed it, filled with a lot of confusion and questioning of my reality - and myself. And feeling not quite here, never quite here. When I came back from that coma, I told my mom repeatedly something was not okay - I wasn't me anymore. Yet, here I was, my body, my memories. When I started digging deeper into my practice and myself in my 30's, I found something that was more important than gold. Answers to what had happened to me, and a confirmation that no - I was in fact NOT crazy. When that accident happened, when I entered my "Coma World" filled with tunnels, when I was snatched away from the Light that would have been my reset by something, I made some deals. One of those deals, involved a piece of my soul being left behind, in order for me to "come back". Collateral, in some way - how, I am still not fully sure. Maybe had I not found myself on the path I am on now, not listened to the pulls or opened the right doors, my poor little soul piece would still be down there in those tunnels and I would still be wandering about confused.

I didn't plan to bring my soul back. I mean, I had read plenty of books but there was no initiative taken yet. Honestly, I had no idea that was even on the table. That 20 years later was the arrangement to call it home. All I knew at the time leading up to that trip, was that since August I had felt something was coming. Things had begun to move at what felt like a rapid pace. I had accompanied Crow to do a ritual to a spirit outside of any system I was officially involved with, had presented myself to the spirit with the intention of "if you want me - I'm ready.", entered a trance state unlike any I had experienced, and less than 12 hours later got a call of confirmation that the path would begin for me. I had gone to the ocean the following month, with a friend, my daughter and my mother all of whom can confirm the eerie strangeness of the energy unlike anything we've ever experienced at our beach house.

Hindsight is always 20/20 and looking back I can see so much that was foreshadowing what was about to come. Up to the point that as we left that day, my friend looked at me very casually and said, "Make sure you come back, don't die." as if she was reminding me to bring a postcard, and then didn't even realize why she had spoken the words.

One of the reasons this was a blog idea, or something I felt so strongly about writing, is because it is something I have never actually really shared the full experience of. It is something that was pivotal in my practice, and something that drastically changed me and my very make up, leading to everything that would come after. It is also probably the most profound experience - or beginning of series of experiences - that can express how "opening doors" changes you. And it is something that once done, cannot be taken back. Much like the red pill or blue pill analogy, once you see certain things, you can never unsee them. Once you experience certain things, you are forever changed by them - often times to your literal core level, be that DNA or Soul, both. And because for the last, going on two years, I have been working on understanding who I am now.

The investigation we were headed to had been planned ahead of time, with people having to fall off. This led to the offer being extended to additional people, some of whom could go, some of whom couldn't. It left us with a group of five, all but one of us thinking we were just going back to a very actively and highly enjoyed location. Plans, were apparently set in motion - and there is always an end game. At the location we enjoyed a laid back first night and relaxing day the next day. As we were on an investigation that was made up of all practitioners, there was talk of a small ritual the second evening, but nothing intense. However, as conversation continued and the night rolled in, you could feel the atmosphere change in the house and in our group. Crow, had been what I have termed "slipping", taking on a different energy. I had seen it momentarily the previous night, and it was stronger and more visible now, throwing everyone for a loop. Everyone could feel something in the air. When he stood and simply stated "Time for prayer.", before walking up the stairs I had an ominous feeling in my stomach that I couldn't register. I will never forget my eyes meeting Ryan's across the room and whispering "I guess it's prayer time" and his face as he stood saying, "With whoever that is." As we walked upstairs to where the makeshift altar had been set, I couldn't place where my fear was coming from - or why it was even present - but it was there. This slight tinge, my spirits in my head whispering quiet warnings. Not to stop, not to run, just that everything was about to change. I walked through the door anyway, taking my place next to him at the altar. Placing my hands on the snake skin and opening my prayer book. The others, gathered around us, not yet introduced to this Current we had been working. I couldn't tell you what all the words were. The prayers continued for a long time, out of our Siddur. I lost track of time, to be honest. If there were words said, outside of the book, and I believe there were, I don't remember them. I was simply aware of the energy next to me. My mentor, my best friend, a man I had known for years, a man I had been practicing magick with, whose energy was familiar to me. He didn't feel right. He didn't sound right. And as he prayed for the Kliphotic Elohim his voice ached and echoed with an emotion I couldn't even place. I kept darting my eyes to him, trying to understand what was happening - completely unprepared to take lead if something happened - and I saw tears falling down his face. SCREEEECH!!!! BAM!!!!!!

I couldn't process what we had just heard. I couldn't breathe. In my head the thoughts wouldn't make sense. I felt like I was underwater, like someone had punched me in the gut, and stuck their fist in my chest and ripped out my heart all at the same time. Behind me, the others moved in shock, exclaiming. What was that?! Oh my god was that a car?! I can remember Tara's voice. My rational brain darted my eyes to the window. Crow had not stopped praying, he was still speaking. Hadn't flinched. I felt anger, okay, prayers are important but what the fuck just happened outside. I moved from my position (bad, Natasha) and looked out the window. There was nothing there. The whole house had shook, it sounded like it was in our yard (a crossway), but there was nothing there. I knelt back down at the altar in shock, shaking. I was shaking like I was going into actual medical shock. I couldn't breathe... Why was he still praying?! I looked to EJ on my right, his face mirrored shock but he said nothing. I reached up and touched my face. There were tears streaming down it. I hadn't even realized I was crying.

It was probably only moments, but felt like a million years. Crow finished the prayers he had been on and shut the book, calmly saying, "Someone should probably call 911".

The others ran down the stairs. I knew. I knew without knowing in that moment, as someone with Crow's face, that was also not quite his face, stared back at me very calmly - that was my car. But I didn't process it yet. In fact, I couldn't even tell you what we said, if we said anything to each other before following the others. All I can remember is that feeling of not being able to breathe, and a rage that was starting deep in me underneath the shock. I had been tricked. I had walked right into this. Tricked tricked tricked. I was fuming, but I was a zombie. And, the rage didn't even feel like it was coming from me, it felt like it was coming from something else in me.

On the porch the October air hit my face. Where were the sirens? Where was the accident? The crossroad intersection was clear, calm. Streetlight buzzing. Down the sidewalk I heard people on their porches, looking around, talking to each other. Where's the car? You heard that, right? Ryan is a rock for me, stability, quiet guardianship. I hovered by him, clenching my jaw. He looked down at me, not even needing to ask if I was okay. That is when the words came, "That was my car. That was MY car." Recognition flooded. It had been 20 years, that night. 20 years since the day I "died". I almost went down. Flat out on the beautiful Victorian porch. Instead, we walked back upstairs, back to the altar.

The rest of that night, will stay within those who experienced it. At least for now.

All soul retrievals are different. I knew this, from my studies. They can be done in many different ways. Mine, haha, well, it was as violent feeling as the accident that shattered it in the first place. I still cannot give the right words to what it feels like. Many things were explained to us afterwards. The pieces leading up to this, the planning, both human and non-human. It was undeniably impressive, really, the effort that went into bringing the rest of me home after 20 years. Promises had been made, I am assuming. It was also an incredibly traumatizing experience for me. I came home in a state of shock, and it took some time to come to terms with what had happened. It is hard to talk about that night without strong emotions, on my part. The three that witnessed all reported the same thing, the scream they heard in my voice, before the impact. The one that didn't come from their friend's mouth sitting in front of them, but from some fracture in the Void.

That was the night I stopped questioning if any of this was really happening.

And I stopped asking for undeniable proof. It had been given.

Events like this, change you on multiple levels. Frequency. Emotionally. Mentally. Spiritually. Neurologically.... Cellular? Haha. Everyone, was changed by the events of that night. Me, most of all, I would assume. Happy birthday? You're 20 again, kid.

As I said, I came home different. I have spent almost two years re-integrating myself into, well, myself. It has caused a lot of internal changes. Of course, I had said when I started this, things had begun to feel like they were moving very fast. Now they were faster. I didn't have time to only sit with this integration. At the end of the month, we would perform the Devil's Night Ritual that would start us on a 13 month Qliphothic journey. Nothing has slowed down since.

Honestly, it's like my soul fragments showed back up, slammed into me like a mac truck and said - "We got deals to uphold, and we're on a schedule." And at this point, here, who am I to argue. The pill was swallowed, my eyes were opened, and now... that part continues to unfold.

XO