Holy honesty from the underworld... 🔥🪞
“This isn’t a cry for help, but a sacred howl of remembrance"
- Nicole Barton
Holy honesty from the underworld... 🔥🪞
I’ve had a wildfire rip through my life these last few months.
Teaching me to get honest. To get raw. To get my hands in the dirt and see where my life has been built on the illusion of perfection.
And I’m feeling an intense fire within that’s calling me down, down, down - into the underworld. To the place of fire and grit. To remember that I’m not immune from initiations of soul.
I talk about facing the mess, the portals - and still, I’m being shown the edges where I’m still not being fully real. Where I’m trying - desperately - to hold it all together. Where I’m tempted to hide and mask with the images of perfection. To prove that I’m not wrong.
Called back home to my body, by her wombly pains. Called back to the darkness, to face another threshold.
Everything feels like it’s being stripped from me, so I can truly meet the dark.
It’s terrifying.
And part of me can also feel the liberation of the fire cleansing me. 🔥
Truth washing over me as I realise: I can’t be perfect. I am human. I am real.
No matter how far down the path we are - no matter how far we’ve journeyed with sovereignty - we can still be pulled down, until we feel like we’re drowning in flames.
I feel the edges of where I want to be perfect. To get everything right. And I’m holding so much that I can’t.
I literally can’t juggle all the balls anymore - there are too many. I have to let at least one drop. Let it splat on the floor. Let it make a mess.
And trust that that - is my medicine.
I see now how I’ve used perfection to shy away from being big.
From being visible.
From being a flame.
I’ve kept myself small - so I wouldn’t make a mistake. So I wouldn’t get it wrong. So no one could say I was too much, or not enough.
But the fire won’t let me hide anymore.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s where the healing is...
If you're reading this, feeling you want to shy away from the discomfort, or rescue me, or if it's triggering sacred rage, that's all welcome - and know this:
This isn’t a cry for help, but a sacred howl of remembrance.
This is holy honesty. 🔥
