Something profound happened for me yesterday. I am not sure that there are any words in existence that will do the experience justice, but I will try.

My friend Jenny, her daughter Casey, and I were in Berry about two and a half weeks ago. Berry is about an hour and a half’s drive from where we live. It is a cute little village with some powerful natural energy, and has my favourite shops in the world there: Shambhala and I have no idea what the other one is called.

We went in to Shambhala and I was drawn to a deck of cards: Kuan Yin by Alana Fairchild. A light green cover and I couldn’t tell you what else was on the front. I was really drawn to them but where I would usually just listen, the nagging financial advisor in my head told me to not be so silly because I was saving for a deposit for a home. Meh. I listened and didn’t buy the cards.

We had lunch. We laughed. We talked. We ate. We drank.

We then walked around the main street and came to my next favourite shop, more upper market than Shambhala and you can actually walk freely through (Shambhala is very overfilled – but that is its charm). On a display in the window and as soon as you walk in, deck after deck of the same cards. They drew me in at the window, they embraced me at the display. Jenny said, “Just buy them. You can’t not nourish yourself; attract the abundance by believing there is enough.”

That was all I needed to hear. I bought them.

We were at the counter and there was a promotional flyer for an Alana Fairchild Temple of Isis workshop on Saturday 2nd May in Berry. There was a discount offer on the purchase of admission if you bought two Alana Fairchild products; we thought the price was reasonable on its own. We took the flyer, contemplating its potential and left.

We stood outside, further contemplating.

We turned around and went back inside, and asked for more information, and signed up.

We would make it work.

Then life happened. No guarantor for a home loan, moving in to Lauren and Margo’s new home in Thirlmere (another cute village – no comment on the energy yet; thank God for those two though or homelessness would have been a reality in thought for a few weeks adding stress), organising the inspections of my current home, report season at work, and executions in Indonesia, earthquakes in Nepal, storms here …

So yesterday was welcome.

I am painfully shy. Many do not believe this of me, but I truly am. I am not a fan of humanity and I look weird. I am always that little bit fearful of judgement, and I dislike the cliche questions I usually receive. So these things, with lots of other people, who look normal, terrify me a little. Obviously, I too judge others by appearance and the seemingly conservative women walking through the doors yesterday at the Uniting Church Hall in Berry did nothing to assuage my fears. Nervously, we walked in.

And then Tina happened.

The lady organising the workshop, Patsy, looked at us, and I thought she wanted to know who we were, and so in my best, socially awkward presence, I announced, loud and proud, “I am Tina Meyer from Campbelltown.”

And she laughed. Grabbed me and hugged, “Hello Tina Meyer from Campbelltown!” Or did I imagine this part?

Oh brother, at any rate, mortified doesn’t even come close to how I felt.

Soldiered on. Always hard to know where to sit in situations like this. Inservices are the same. It’s like your seating choice can destroy or make the event. Needless to say, by the end we weren’t sitting where we sat at the start. And we weren’t the same as we were at the start, so that’s appropriate.

And now my words start to fail me.

Hmmm …

You don’t know this but the preceding ellipsis really did just indicate time passing with nothing being written. Part of me is thinking that I want to be selfish and hold on to yesterday for just a bit longer. Immortalising it is what words will do. And therein lies my dilemma, what if the words I  use do not capture the essence of it, the reality of it, the perfection of it.

Meh. Here goes …

It opened with a beautiful Singing Bowls rendition by a woman studying called Elizabeth. Absolutely beautiful. That alone transported me into the right mindset of acceptance and trust.

Then there was a lot of explanation. About what we would physicaly be doing. The tasks in the morning session would be vastly different to the afternoon session. We would feel confronted. Alana talked about Isis and Sekhmet, Bast, Horus. The energies in the room shifted further. We moved all of the chairs (set up in a semi circle, forty five or so people facing the front; this had been the antithesis of the sitting in a circle Kum By Ya moments Jen and I had been expecting) excitedly and nervously.

Initiation has the aroma of the deep occult about it. It sets fear into the heart and mind. The power of the connotation of words. We both knew we were meant to be in Berry yesterday. So we were willing to look past this occult notion of initiation.

Realistically, all initiation is, is movement into something new, something different. A ritual formalises the movements of initiation that we all make every day upon waking. The practice of initiation sets the energy.

I cannot tell you the words that Alana used. They are in my mind but I have no access to them. Whatever she asked, probably along the lines of me accepting the initiation, my answer was a resounding yes. She marked my third eye with  organic ash. I sat and began to meditate. After everyone said yes, she came and tied white ribbon around our right wrists and said something to us about light. And we continued to meditate. Specifically upon the things that we wanted to let go of. For me, my weight is the connection I most feel ties me to my past experiences, and I want to move forward from that. I started by meditating upon letting go of bad foods. Then I realised that what connected me to food was fear.

Fear is powerful. It stops us from being who we truly are, from stepping forward with confidence, from really living our lives. In the moment I knew, within my core, that what I really needed to let go of, was fear. Fear has held me back because it has not permitted me to believe that I am worthy of all that I am worthy of. It has stopped me from accepting abundance in to my life, abundance that we all richly deserve. And whilst that hasn’t paralysed my life (because I am very very stubborn), it has not permitted me to accept all that is truly mine.

And so I meditated on letting fear go.

I made the decision to stop saying no because of fear.

To embody the practice will take time. But my first steps forward came at lunch.

I felt the ritual to be very powerful. We were given an hour for lunch. I needed to buy a crystal for one of my students ( she is an empath and struggles with the energies at school – the crystal I bought her I have used, successfully for the most part, myself – Wednesday being the exception – anger at the execution in Indonesia). I had a forehead smeared with ash. I walked proudly. Oblivious completely to the stares (Jen told me that I was oblivious; usually I am not).

When we arrived back at the hall we were told to move the chairs back temporarily to sit. Jen and I ended up next to Elizabeth. Incredible soul. Ignored other people waiting to talk to her to continue talking to us. Beautiful rich creative ideas about the potential of my move. Can’t express it in words, so …

My second test came after lunch. Moving meditation. Never heard of it. And yep, I am a qualified meditation teacher. Good work Tina!

Dancing in a room full of people (I just typed power instead of people – that is what happened but interesting that in my brain I have already substituted what it was instead of my limiting thoughts about it) without alcohol is not something I do. EVER.

We were given the option of sitting down or lying down, of not moving. My heart soared and then my mind gave my heart a string and swift kick. I remained standing. Sekhmet and Bast featured in this meditation. The two faces providing balance. I closed my eyes and danced. I did not permit fear to change my behaviour.

I loved it.


Something I had only ever done at home by myself generated power in a group.


And then an intense lying down meditation followed.

And then we debriefed.

I couldn’t speak. I felt zen.

I have thought I have felt zen before in my life, but never this deeply or profoundly.

Something in me has shifted.

I feel complete acceptance.

Complete faith.

Complete trust.

I am where I am meant to be.

I am doing what I am meant to be doing.

I am who I am meant to be.


To my dear friend …

There are no words that will take away your pain and I am sorry for that … Some of the things that people will say will wound like a knife scraping over a burn. And I am sorry for that. You will cry and be miserable, not wanting to go out, not wanting to risk seeing pregnant women or babies or small children – and that’s okay. Do what you need to do. Your healing is the most important thing for you to do. People will think you are selfish, some may say it. Let them. This is a time for selfishness. It is important to be selfish. You are in pain and you have suffered a significant loss. Selfish is okay. 

You will be okay. 

You will smile again. You will laugh again. You will feel happiness again. You will conceive again. It will go to term. You will be a birth mother. 

You are now a mother. A mother who lost her child. And you will be alright. 

It’s a journey. And everyone’s journey is different. I am one of many women who have survived it. You will too. But don’t feel pressure to get there quicker than you do. Do it your way and in your time. 

It is okay. And you will be okay.