Embarking on an Intuitive Irish Adventure: A Journey of Alchemy and Remembering

Part 1: Arrival and Awakening

So far, our journey has been one of grace and ease. We will be in Ireland in about 8 hours! We are beyond excited to share this journey with you!

Becky and I have arrived in Ireland and I just got word that the amazing new book Shaman Heart 3 We Are The Ones We’ve Been Waiting For is out now!!!! Please feel free to check out the book on Amazon for only 1.99$ and this amazing podcast I had the honor to do with a few amazing powerful healers.

Book: Shaman Heart: We Are the Ones We’ve Been Waiting For, Volume 3 https://a.co/d/2b7j5OH

Podcast: https://youtu.be/VsdoSGPFtPI?si=f1DN_swd7DkzL49L

Day 1: Embracing the Green and the Grounding

I have no idea what day it is, and I haven’t slept in two days—hahaha—so I’m feeling extremely exhausted and grouchy. But before I head to bed, I wanted to share with you the awesomeness and craziness of our day.

We just arrived at our hotel in the northern part of Ireland. Did you know we drove around the east coast all day? Ireland is roughly the size of Indiana, so in 6.5 hours of driving, we covered a lot of ground.

I have to say, this trip has been one of ease so far. There were barely any people on the plane, and the lines have been short. Even though I’m not feeling my best, everything has been met with grace and overwhelming kindness.

A huge shoutout to Becky for driving all day on the wrong side of the road. Guys, she is a pro! There were moments when I’d drift off to sleep, then wake up on the driver’s side with cars coming toward us—and for a second, I had to remember where I was! 😂🤣😱 Becky really speaks the language here and fits in perfectly. Everywhere we went, she effortlessly struck up deep conversations with people.

And oh my god, the GREEEEEEEN! The rolling hills are lush and vibrant, the trees are full of life and sound. The moment we got close enough to see the land from the plane, I felt an instant connection. It’s alive here—the land, the people, everything. I could listen to them talk all day! Ha! And the food? So nourishing, so uniquely wholesome.

The best part of today? Visiting the Devil’s Glen—a breathtaking forest. I made a deep connection in those woods. I often forget how truly connected I feel to the trees until I’m surrounded by them. I sat alone for a while on a mossy tree stump, fully present with the wind, the birds, the cawing crows exchanging calls, and the trees whispering to one another.

I felt grounded, rooted, and embraced by the knowing that this tree stump still lives. Its moss was the softest and most defined I’ve ever touched. The roots stretch deep and wide, connecting with others, exchanging nutrients and life. This stump isn’t dead—it’s alive, intertwined with the consciousness of the Mother, the mycelium.

And then, I began to sing. 🎶 A song, a chant, that I will share with you here. As I sang, I heard whispers—many of them—filling the air around me.

“This place is the heart of the earth,” they said.

“This is where your heart will heal and break wide open.”

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of chaos—nonstop work, no rest. But here, I am meant to receive. To allow. To step fully into whatever is coming for me.

I am a giver. I give, give, give. But receiving? That has been one of my biggest struggles, and lately, the lesson has been unavoidable.

I don’t yet know what it all means, but I’m here for it. And we’ll see how Intuitive Ireland unfolds herself to me.

Day 2: Ancient Stones and Sacred Circles

Yesterday was a big day!

We began at an ancient stone fort, once used for protection against invasion. The last recorded attack and conquest of the fort was in 1101, and it was later restored in the 1870s. Standing within those walls, I could feel the weight of history surrounding me with the message “The war is over…you have been set free and restored”.

Next, we made our way to the Beltany Stone Circle. The journey there felt like an initiation in itself—the path an enchanted walkway, drawing me deeper into the sacred. As I stepped onto the site, a song came to me, one I knew I had to sing. And so, my personal ceremony began.

Below, I share a video of that moment—standing at the heart of the stone circle, calling in my sisters of light, my brothers of stone, the children of the stars and earth to rise up. I don’t know if you can feel it, but as I spun within the circle, I could sense many unseen beings standing with me, singing alongside me. It was powerful, beyond words.

As the ceremony unfolded, I was gifted a crow feather—a blessing, a sign, a confirmation of Medicine Crow Woman. I can’t even begin to put into words everything that happened. Later that night, as I slept, I returned to the circle in my dreams. I could hear the whispers of the woods, the messages woven in symbols, ones I’ve been instructed to include in the book project. Pure amazingness!

From there, we continued our journey, driving down the inland west coast. Along the way, we discovered hidden gems—an old castle, a McBrides sign (with a flame as the dot on the i—a detail that felt like a message in itself). The mountains we passed reminded me of driving along the Oregon coast, their beauty both familiar and otherworldly.

And then… we arrived at the Cliffs of Moher.

The moment I laid eyes on them, my inner child lit up—completely in awe, embraced by the sheer magnificence of it all. It was breathtaking. Powerful. One of the most stunning sights I’ve ever witnessed in all my travels. We watched the sun set over the cliffs, a moment of pure magic, before making our way to an authentic Bed & Breakfast for the night.

Every step of the journey, both Becky and I received messages—gifts of guidance and confirmation. The breadcrumbs have not been disappointing.

Day 3: Purification and Remembering

Yesterday was a day of purification.

No one prepares you for the cleansing. Shit, guys… shite.

We began the day at the Atlantic Ocean. As the waves rolled in, the rising sun painted the sky. There was a deep sense of peace in that moment—a calm that settled into my bones. Can you imagine waking up and going straight to the ocean to start your day?

Breathtaking.

Next, we stopped at a rock shop, where—of course—I spent way too much money. Ha! But every stone, every keepsake felt like a breadcrumb guiding me deeper into this journey. Little magical tokens, reminders of the path I’m walking.

St. Brigid’s Well: Honoring the Dead, Purifying the Soul

Stepping into this sacred space, I was surrounded by thousands of prayers—notes, ribbons, offerings left by those seeking blessings, healing, and guidance from St. Brigid, the eternal beacon of light.

Brigid of Ireland is so much more than a saint—she is an ancient goddess, a guardian of the sacred flame, a protector of women, and a symbol of hope and renewal. She represents healing, poetry, and the alchemy of transformation. Women, especially, have turned to her for centuries—offering their grief, their longings, their deepest desires—knowing she holds the power of both fire and water, life and death, creation and destruction.

Standing there, I could feel her presence, the weight of all who have come before me, whispering through the waters. I made my own offering, asking for purification—not just of my mind and body, but of my soul.

The Faerie Farm: A Journey of Remembering

From there, we traveled to the Faerie Farm to meet Pat Noone, a healer and shepherd of the Fae. And let me tell you—this was hands down the most magical experience of my life!

In my chapter of We Are the Ones We’ve Been Waiting For, I wrote about a dream vision I had a decade ago—one that has guided me to retrieve the missing pieces of my soul scattered across the world.

Standing on this land… I remembered.

It was a retrieval of something ancient, something so deep within me that words fail. A remembering of the old old old parts of myself that had been lost across lifetimes.

I have seen the fae once before, in 2015, with my own eyes. But yesterday… I heard them. I felt them all around me.

And then, I experienced an ancient Irish healing technique that unlocked something within me—a massive awakening to myself. I cried hard last night as the downloads poured in.

I am humbled.

But I am also struggling. Struggling to feel worthy of the truths that were revealed to me. Struggling with the doubt that still lingers, keeping me from fully receiving and embracing the ancient Druid that lives within me.

The Land is Speaking

The woods and trees of Ireland speak to me in ways I haven’t experienced since childhood. They remind me…

That I used to play in the woods.

That I built forts and made magic potions.

That I knew I was a witch at five years old—before the world demonized it out of me.

I am being called back to my Celtic roots. To remember.

Caliandra, the Druid of the Fae.

All of the pieces—10 years, 5 years, a lifetime—are coming together, showing me who I truly am and calling me to step into it fully.

This land feels like another dimension, another portal. And yet, I know my task is to bring this energy back to the States. My guides tell me I am a land frequency holder—a carrier of these vibrations. That through sound, through voice, I am meant to spread these frequencies of healing in a time when the world needs it most.

And so, I surrender.

I remember.

And I rise.

Day 4: Death, Purification & the Path of Alchemy

Wow, yesterday was intense. When I first dreamed up this Authors’ Journey to Ireland, I had NO IDEA how deeply the concept of alchemy would start working on me before we even guide others through it. Becky and I have chosen to walk this path first—feeling every step of it—so we can lead with integrity when 24 others join us in September.

We began our day finalizing plans with Killeen Castle, and let me tell you… this place is luxurious. Cozy accommodations, expansive land, an ancient church, and of course, a CASTLE! Every step forward confirms this trip is unfolding exactly as it should.

Then, we traveled to the Boyne River Valley, an ancient landscape steeped in history, myth, and transformation. Here, the river itself is known for its purifying and renewing energy, carrying the wisdom of the land. The valley is home to some of the world’s most ancient burial mounds, built over 5,000 years ago, predating even the Egyptian pyramids. These passage tombs were not just places of burial, but sites of deep ritual, honoring the cycles of life, death, and rebirth.

✨ Knowth – A site of balance and transformation, where masculine and feminine energies merge. It is aligned with the spring and autumn equinoxes, marking moments of equilibrium between light and shadow. The carvings on the stones tell stories of cycles—death and renewal, endings and beginnings. As rain fell, I felt the deep purification of both land and spirit.

✨ Newgrange – A portal of rebirth and awakening, built with precise alignment to the winter solstice. Once a year, the rising sun floods the inner chamber with golden light, symbolizing the return of life after the longest night. Standing within this sacred space, I could feel the whispers of the ancestors, a call to step deeper into transformation.

✨ Dowth – The lesser-known of the three, but no less powerful. It is believed to be a burial site for ancient kings and wise ones, a space of transition and release. It carries the energy of deep rest and surrender—a reminder that before rebirth, there must be death. I left an offering here, acknowledging the endings that must come before new beginnings.

The theme of the day? Death and Purification. Letting go. Stripping away illusions. Facing shadows.

These journeys have a way of working on you like a psychedelic experience—pushing you to the brink, cracking open what’s hidden. I’ve been wrestling with shame, self-doubt, and the deep realization that I’m stepping out of an old self and into something new. It’s messy. It’s nonlinear. It’s raw alchemy in motion.

I’m so grateful for friends who hold space, reflect with compassion, and challenge me to grow. Becky has been that for me—teaching me the flow I often resist, reminding me to release control and trust the path.

As the rain and river waters washed over me yesterday, I felt it—the purification before the awakening. The transformation is coming. I can feel it on the verge.

Thanks to everyone following along on this intuitive spiral path. The journey is just beginning.

Day 5: The Crow’s Sacrifice & The Death Before Rebirth

Last night, we stayed in the most adorable tiny Airbnb—a much-needed break from hotel-hopping. I woke up slow, made myself a nourishing breakfast, and sat with my tea, watching the Irish countryside stretch endlessly before me. Damn, I’m living a dream.

It was one of those rare, quiet moments where everything felt aligned. I was here. I was present. I was breathing.

By midday, Becky and I set off for Loughcrew, an ancient site of burial cairns and initiations. But before we arrived, something terrible and mystical happened.

I often speak about the four stages of alchemy, but let me be clear—they do not move in order. There is no neat, linear path to transformation. Alchemy is chaos. Wild. It shakes you to your core before it ever shows you the light.

The first stage is death. Carl Jung called it the nigredo—the dark night of the soul, where everything must fall apart before it can be reborn. And just as I was speaking about my own past—opening up to Becky about the deep, hidden wounds of childhood abuse and trauma—the universe decided it was time for me to understand death in a way I never wanted to.

A crow hopped onto the road ahead of us.

I saw it. I held my breath. Time slowed.

The car in front of us hit her.

I gasped, hands flying to my face. “No, no, no…”

A trauma unfolded before my eyes, and I shattered.

Becky, without hesitation, pulled over (safely) and ran to the crow. Feathers drifted like ghosts in the wind. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably in the passenger seat. I could feel it in my bones—this was no accident. Something was being taken from me. Something was dying within me, just as she died on that road.

Becky came back, her hands cradling the still, delicate body. She looked at me gently and asked, “Do you want to see her?”

I nodded. Through blurred vision, I took in her lifeless form. We laid her next to a tree, building a protective circle of branches around her. We honored her. We wept for her.

And I felt it—this was a sacrifice. A messenger of death. A teacher of alchemy.

Back in the car, we drove in silence, the grief thick and suffocating. Becky eventually whispered, “What are you feeling?”

Through heaving sobs, I managed to say, “I died back there.”

Something deep inside me knew—this was not just about the crow. This was about what needed to die within me.

⸻

Loughcrew & The Hag’s Chair: A Rite of Passage

We arrived at Loughcrew in silence, still holding the weight of the crow’s passing. A small group of people had gathered beneath a sacred hawthorn tree. My face was still damp, my eyes red, but I felt safe. No need to pretend. No need to mask my grief.

One of Becky’s friends, sensing my pain, offered me a cup of hawthorn tea.

“Drink this,” he said. “It will help your heart.”

And somehow, it did. I felt the medicine moving through me—gentle, yet powerful. A balm to the rawness of my soul.

Then, we climbed the steep hill to the Hag’s Chair, an ancient stone throne believed to be connected to the Cailleach, the great Irish goddess of transformation, wisdom, and winter.

Legend says that if you sit in the chair and run three times around the ancient cairn, you can either ask for something (by running against the wind) or release something (by running with it).

Our guide warned us: “Be careful what you ask for—you may not get what you want, but you’ll get what you need.”

I knew I was meant to receive something. So I ran. Three times. With my heart open and my spirit raw.

When I was done, I sat in stillness. The land was speaking to me. The tea was working its magic. The grief was slowly shifting.

⸻

Honoring the Crow

Back at the hawthorn tree, I knelt and placed one of the crow’s feathers into the earth. Using my ceremonial stones, I activated the space, offering my grief, my gratitude, my surrender.

Under the tree of heart-opening medicine, I let go.

I thanked the crow for her medicine. For her sacrifice. For carrying me through this rite of passage.

After our hike, we gathered as a group for a community meal and tea—a chance to rest, connect, and share our experiences. The nourishment of the food and the laughter of kindred spirits felt healing in itself, a stark contrast to the deep grief I had just walked through.

As we sat together, Becky offered her oracle deck, inviting each of us to pull a card. Still in a daze from the day, I shuffled the deck and picked one at random.

Lotus – Resurrection.

I stared at it, the weight of the moment sinking in.

You. Can’t. Make. This. Shit. Up.

Are you beginning to see the breadcrumbs?

To be continued…

❤️ Crow Medicine Woman (mama crow)

[March 8th International Women’s Day]

Day 6: Rise of Consciousness

Thank you to everyone who has reached out, sharing how this journey resonates with you. Some of you have said it’s hitting home, and for that, I am deeply grateful. Sharing my experience has been raw and vulnerable. I tend to keep my spiritual, magical, shamanic side tucked away, afraid that revealing it fully might push people away. It feels like I’m coming out of the closet… again.

I am remembering parts of me. Epiphany after epiphany pours in like a rushing stream, breaking apart old traumas and reshaping my understanding of myself. This land—this breathtaking, mystical land—has been calling me for a decade, and now I understand why.

Immersing myself in this emerald terrain has been both heart-breaking and heart-mending. I know I will return again and again, but even when I leave, I will carry this place with me. This is where my roots belong. It’s a remembering. A coming home—to myself.

I spent most of today in silence and contemplation. It was a rare, blissful day in Ireland, mid-50s with the sun beaming down. I wandered through the Hill of Tara, humming softly as the wind danced around me, feeling the presence of something ancient, something watching, something whispering. The hills are alive with the sound of music—I could feel it in my bones, in my blood.

The Hill of Tara is the ancient seat of the High Kings of Ireland, a place of great power and legend. It is said that the Lia Fáil (Stone of Destiny) would roar when touched by the rightful king. I didn’t hear a roar, but I did sing the whole way back down the hill, my heart swelling with something I can’t quite name.

After Tara, we explored the ruins of Bective Abbey, stepping through a portal into a forgotten world. Ireland truly is a land of magic—of myths and whispers, of echoes from the past. I love living from this perspective, allowing the enchantment to weave itself into my reality.

The Rooks: Messengers of Transformation

I spent time with the rooks today. Yesterday, we realized the crow we saw die was actually a rook—a powerful messenger in disguise.

They gathered around, watching, calling, their black wings stirring something deep inside me. Rooks—cousins to the crow—are guardians of transformation, gatekeepers of the unseen. In mythology, they are linked to alchemy, to the cycles of life, death, and rebirth. They are the in-between. The threshold. The bridge.

But beyond their mystical nature, they are also a community. Rooks do not live alone—they build their nests together, protect one another, and thrive in their shared existence.

And isn’t that what this journey is truly about?

This is not just for me. It has never been just for me. I walk this path for my own healing, yes—but also for the collective. For those who came before me, for those walking beside me, and for those who will come after.

I come for my heart and yours.

The rooks remind me that we do not heal in isolation—we heal in community. In connection. In shared stories and sacred spaces.

This is what I am stepping into—I am becoming the storyteller, the poet, the folk singer, the healer. Not just for myself, but inspired by my loving community and a world in need of healing.

I ended the day with an Irish whiskey, a massive steak, and garlic potatoes, reveling in the simple pleasure of good food and good company. I let myself savor the moment, allowing the magic to continue revealing itself to me in whispers and glimpses.

The pieces are coming together. The bigger picture is growing clearer.

And I know—I am rising. I am transforming. Something alchemical is unfolding.

And I am not alone.

Day 7: Rhiannon’s Call ~ Fire, Water & the Awakening Within

I feel like I’m in a dream—some kind of fairy-tale soul retrieval. No joke. Ireland is stripping away the layers, revealing something raw and ancient within me.

Today was a day of fire and water, cleansing and transformation. Becky and I started with a beautiful breakfast before heading to Rockfield House, one of the enchanting countryside accommodations we’ll be staying at during the author’s journey.

Stepping inside felt like slipping through time—an old-world manor steeped in history, beauty, and stories waiting to be told. I could already see our writers, sitting by the windows, soaking in the landscape, breathing in the magic of this land. Everything about this place whispers of enchantment and deep history—a perfect sanctuary for creativity and deep remembering.

In the kitchen, we had the most aligned conversation with the owner. It felt like everything we are creating—this journey, this space—was divinely guided. A dream unfolding in real-time.

From there, we followed her guidance to a sacred well, hidden away, waiting for us. I sat at the stream, letting the cool air wrap around me, offering a song in exchange for the blessings of the water. A simple ritual—cleansing, releasing, receiving.

Then came the fire.

We sweated out everything in the Hot Box sauna, cleansing in the Boyne River, a body of water rich with history and myth. Fire and water, purification and rebirth. For a moment, I felt completely free and then, as always, the outside world began to creep back in.

The Irish are watching the US closely, did you know we are the gossip of the world? My anger rises with every headline, every conversation about home. Work messages come through, clients feeling restless, the weight of their struggles reaching across the ocean.

It’s as if the moment I create space for myself, something tries to pull me back into the noise.

But I am shifting. A massive perspective shift is brewing within me. After meeting someone who embodies the divine masculine in its purest form, I see things differently—about myself, my worth, what I deserve as a divine feminine being.

When I say I’ve met someone who embodies the Divine Masculine, I don’t just mean a man—I mean a presence, an energy, a way of being that feels deeply aligned with the sacred balance of life. The Divine Masculine is protective but not controlling, strong but not forceful, intuitive yet grounded. It holds space without needing to dominate, moves with integrity, and honors the Divine Feminine as an equal, as sacred.

For so long, I have been living in my masculine energy—not because I wanted to, but because I had to. In a world that demands productivity, logic, and constant striving, I became the warrior, the provider, the one who holds it all together. But in doing so, I lost my softness, my ability to fully surrender into my own feminine essence.

Being in my Divine Feminine means stepping into flow instead of force, intuition instead of overthinking, receptivity instead of constant doing. It is creation, sensuality, deep inner knowing. It is being able to trust, to soften, to allow myself to be held instead of always holding everything together.

And here, in Ireland, something is shifting. The men I’ve encountered move differently. They are present, open, emotionally intelligent, leading not with dominance but with heart and intuition. And in their presence, I feel safe to soften, safe to receive, safe to rest in my own Divine Feminine.

This isn’t about a romantic connection—it’s about balance. It’s about realizing I don’t have to carry everything alone. That I can trust. That I can be held.

That I can allow myself to be… me.

I found old photos of myself from ten years ago, from a time when I modeled as Rhiannon—the Celtic goddess of sovereignty, magic, and transformation. She is the one who rides between worlds, the one who sings the dead to sleep and calls the living to rise. She is calling me back to remember.

Things need to change when I get home. They have to.

Because something is awakening in me. And once you remember who you are—you can never go back.

By theway, the bird medicine here is magical. Today I encountered a peacock at the Rockfield House. Guess what the medicine means:

The peacock carries powerful spiritual medicine, symbolizing beauty, self-expression, confidence, vision, and resurrection. Here are some key aspects of peacock totem medicine ~

Self-Expression & Authenticity

The peacock encourages you to embrace your true self, unapologetically showing your colors to the world. It teaches that beauty comes from within and is meant to be shared without fear or shame.

Confidence & Self-Worth

With its radiant plumage and regal stance, the peacock is a symbol of self-confidence and inner worth. If the peacock appears to you, it may be calling you to step into your power and recognize your unique gifts.

Vision & Intuition

The “eye” patterns on its feathers are linked to spiritual vision, awareness, and foresight. In many traditions, the peacock is connected to clairvoyance and the ability to see beyond illusions.

Resurrection & Renewal

In Hindu and Buddhist traditions, the peacock represents transformation and immortality because it is believed to consume poison and remain unharmed. This makes it a symbol of overcoming hardship and emerging stronger, much like the phoenix.

Protection & Spiritual Awakening

In many cultures, peacock feathers are thought to ward off negative energy and enhance spiritual awakening. They remind us to walk in truth and integrity.

When the Peacock Appears in Your Life

• You are being called to embrace your beauty and power.

• It’s time to release self-doubt and stand in confidence.

• Your intuition is heightening—trust your inner vision.

• A period of transformation or rebirth is happening in your life.

Like I said before…You. Can’t. Make. This. Shit. Up.

Powerful Medicine 🐦‍⬛☘️

Day 8: The Majestic Wicklow Mountains

Wow. Today was beyond words. Becky and I headed into the Wicklow Mountains to visit Deerstone Eco Lodge, the sacred space where we will bring our authors on this journey. I can’t even begin to describe the beauty of this place—holy shit, it’s majestic.

Nestled within six acres of sustainable luxury,

Eco Lodge is surrounded by traditional sheep farms, the rolling hills of Wicklow National Park, and the serene Inchavore River.

The lodge itself is breathtaking—a sanctuary of eco-conscious luxury designed to harmonize with the land. Five beautifully crafted cottages, each with private outdoor hot tubs and showers, four cozy shepherd’s huts, and two deluxe guestrooms provide the perfect space for creativity and renewal. It’s a place where stories will come alive, where voices will rise, where transformation will take root.

I am so excited about this accommodation. It’s just amazing!

Following our visit to the lodge, we traveled deeper into the Wicklow Mountains, arriving at Glendalough, a place that holds an undeniable spiritual presence. Founded in the 6th century by St. Kevin, this monastic site sits within a glacial valley, embraced by towering peaks and ancient forests. The remnants of stone churches and the towering round tower stand as testaments to centuries of devotion, a bridge between past and present.

The path leading to the lakes winds through lush woodlands, carrying the echoes of pilgrims who have walked it before. The Lower Lake is peaceful, reflective, inviting stillness. The Upper Lake, hidden further within the valley, feels wilder—untamed, mysterious, holding a deeper truth. The Wicklow Mountains themselves feel like nature’s temples, places where the veil is thin, where something stirs within you.

After leaving Glendalough, we made our way to Kilmacurragh Botanic Gardens—a place where time, nature, and history weave together into something sacred. This estate, once home to the Acton family, has long been a sanctuary for trees from around the world, planted centuries ago with care and intention.

Walking through Kilmacurragh feels like stepping into a living archive of the Earth.

Giant sequoias from California stand alongside Himalayan cedars, Chilean monkey puzzle trees, and Japanese maples. These trees—some of the oldest and rarest in Ireland—hold stories of distant lands, of resilience, of transformation.

I got to spend some time with a Californian redwood today, and I was in heaven. There’s something about redwoods that speaks to my soul—their deep roots, their towering presence, their ability to endure fire and still grow stronger. Standing with this ancient being, I felt my own journey reflected back at me. The past eight days have been like walking through fire, stripping away the unnecessary, burning through illusion. And yet, just like the redwood, I am still standing.

Anger & The Alchemical Process

Since yesterday, I’ve been wrestling with anger. It’s been rising in me like fire, demanding to be acknowledged. And if I’m being honest, I’m ashamed of it. Afraid of it. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to suppress anger, to be composed, to be in control. But here, in this raw, ancient landscape, there’s no hiding from myself. No hiding from the person I’m with, either. Anger reveals itself whether I want it to or not.

And I realize now that these last eight days have been mirroring the alchemical process—a journey through death, purification, rebirth, and transformation.

Carl Jung, was a Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, and known for his work on the unconscious mind, archetypes, and individuation—the lifelong journey toward becoming one’s true, whole self. He saw alchemy not just as a literal process of transforming base metals into gold but as a powerful metaphor for personal transformation. The journey of the soul mirrors the alchemical process, moving through stages of death, purification, rebirth, and awakening.

Jung outlined four key stages of inner alchemy:

1. Nigredo (Blackening) – Death & Destruction

This is the dark night of the soul. It is the breaking down of the false self, the death of old identities, and the confrontation with the shadow—the parts of ourselves we’ve suppressed or denied. Anger, grief, shame, and chaos rise to the surface, forcing us to see what we’ve long buried. This is the fire that consumes. But destruction is necessary for rebirth.

My journey began with a stripping away. Ireland has been peeling back layers, exposing something raw beneath. The grief, the doubts, the fears I thought I had moved past—they all rose to the surface. The moment I landed, I felt it. The weight of old wounds. The death of who I once was, or at least who I thought I had to be. This stage is the dark night of the soul, the fire that consumes. And I have been burning.

2. Albedo (Whitening) – Purification & Awakening

After the fire of Nigredo, the ashes settle, and clarity begins to emerge. This is the process of purification, the cleansing of illusions, the first glimpse of truth. It is a stage of deep reflection, where we start to understand our wounds and patterns. The emotional charge of anger and pain is distilled into awareness. It is the washing away of what no longer serves.

Through these days of ritual, water, and reflection, I’ve felt the cleansing happening. The sacred well, the rain washing over me, the river after the hotbox—all of it has been part of this purification. The release. The shedding of illusions. In each sacred space, in every moment of stillness, I have been forced to sit with myself. To see things clearly. And now, with this anger rising, I know it is part of the fire that burns away what no longer serves.

3. Citrinitas (Yellowing) – Rise of Consciousness & Integration

In this stage, wisdom begins to take root. The insights gained in Albedo are no longer just intellectual—they become embodied. The masculine and feminine energies within us find balance. Instead of resisting our emotions, we learn to work with them. This is where the fire of anger transforms from destruction into passion, fuel for purpose, a guiding force rather than an uncontrollable blaze.

The past few days, something has been shifting. I have felt moments of deep clarity, of inner knowing. I see now how much I have been living in my masculine energy—holding everything together, striving, protecting. But I have been confronted with a truth: I do not have to carry everything alone. I can soften. I can trust. I can allow myself to be held. This stage is about integration—about recognizing both my fire and my water, my strength and my surrender, and learning how to balance them.

4. Rubedo (Reddening) – Transformation & Wholeness

The final stage is the birth of something new. The lead has become gold. The self, once fragmented, is now whole. This is the stage of full embodiment, where we no longer reject or suppress parts of ourselves but instead integrate them into a new, authentic way of being. Transformation is complete—not an escape from suffering, but a mastery of it.

I feel the alchemy reaching its final stage. The transformation is happening. Something new is emerging. I am beginning to embody this change—not just understanding it intellectually but feeling it in my body. This place, this journey, has been leading me here.

I see it—this anger isn’t here to consume me. It’s here to burn away what no longer serves. To bring forward something deeper, more honest. Fire is destructive, yes, but it is also the force of creation, of renewal.

Maybe that’s why I’m here. To face this. To burn through the old stories. To stop fearing my own fire. Because anger, when met with awareness, doesn’t have to be destructive—it can be alchemical. It can be the spark that leads to transformation.

I am in the fire. But I am not afraid. I am becoming gold.

Through Fire, I Rise

I came to this land carrying echoes of the past, whispers of doubt, embers of grief. The mountains have stripped me bare, the rivers have washed me clean. The land mended my weary soul. Under the Wicklow sky, I saw myself in the clouds In the flames of the fire I burn, not to be consumed, but to be reborn. The fire did not take me—it transforms me. Burning away the old, forging something new. I am not who I was when I arrived. I am the ash, the spark, the rising flame. I am becoming. Alchemy. Rebirth. Gold. 🐦‍🔥🐦‍🔥🐦‍🔥🐦‍🔥🐦‍🔥

Day 9 & 10: Closing the Circle

As our journey draws to a close, Becky and I are preparing to head back to the States. Yesterday, we spent time in Wicklow and gazed out over the Irish Sea, letting the vastness of the water ground us in the present moment.

Back at the Airbnb, I held a small fire ceremony to honor the ending of my old self and welcome the new. The flames carried my intentions, burning away what no longer serves me and making space for transformation.

This morning, we rose early and returned to Loughcrew one last time. While Becky and her friend explored a distant cairn, I ascended to the cairn with the Hag’s Chair. There, I meditated, taking in the ancient landscape and offering gratitude for this incredible land and the magic it holds. I closed the circle with three stone circles at the top of the hill near the Hag’s Chair. As I stepped away, I felt a profound shift—empowered and transformed, no longer the person I was on the day the crow died.

Now, we make our way to the airport, saying a bittersweet goodbye to Ireland. Though I leave with a heavy heart, I’m ready to return home and find balance between life and work. I’m eager to see how this transformation unfolds, especially as we journey back in time and I arrive home just before midnight—perfectly aligned with the lunar eclipse.

Home:

What a crazy lunar eclipse that was! I drove home as it was eclipsing and made it by 1 am. I entered my house so grateful for the amazing love and abundance I have in my life. And I love that I created that life for myself. I did not have any help. I just believed in myself.

Total mind shift yall!

My cats were so happy to see me 🙂 I woke up with the sun on my face, the birds singing, and with renewed freshness.

It’s so easy to stay stuck in that negative mindset. I was totally there before I left. Now I am beginning to be thankful for the little things. The sun shining, the wind blowing, the open windows, my bird feeders, my cat companions, and that I get to make my own food and nourish my body.

Wow these are just moments of being present and also remembering our glimmers. Glimmers are the small things we find joy in so that we can osilate between our nervous system responses. If you’re feeling triggered, think about the glimmers. Those tiny moments of joy, whether that is the sun shining, the nice temperatures, the tea you drink in the morning, the birds singing, open windows, etc.

You don’t need to be rich or go anywhere, it’s all here in the present moment if you can stop distracting yourself with the noise and remember you are still breathing and there is still hope. Even when it seems so dark, there is so much light.

Love you all! Gonna be processing my trip for awhile!