September, 2022

When you live in a place as beautiful as the Isle of Glass, it can be difficult to leave.

I have everything I need here. A loving husband. A goofy dog that never fails to entertain me. Family and good friends who text and visit. Books and music and other media that distract me, make me laugh and think, and fire my imagination. Plus all the human necessities like food and drink, shelter, and internet access. :-) I'm blessed in what I've acquired over the years, and as a Cancer sun sign with a Taurus rising, I tend to luxuriate in my home and all the pleasures and stability it offers.

The pandemic only amplified my hermitage. Yes, I missed having face-to-face contact with my friends and family. I longed to go out to see a show or a movie, to browse a shop filled with curiosities (or even groceries), to gather for celebrations, and even to work in my capacity as counselor and teacher. We managed to find ways to carry on with most of these things -- humans are quite clever, after all -- but remaining in our proverbial cocoons became a natural way of life for us. Speaking for myself, the difficulty of it all gradually eased, and I found the silence and the peace nurturing and, eventually, necessary.

So now, it seems it's time to re-emerge. Covid is not gone, but we've found ways to battle it. And so many of us have returned to work at the office, to ride the subway with others, to travel again on vacations, and to eat in restaurants without blinking. We're moving back to "normal," or at least to some version of it.

I've also dipped my toe back into the waters of in-person, contemporary society. I've met with friends for lunch and dinner. I've gone shopping in stores. I've driven to another city, stayed in a hotel, and had a great time exploring with my husband. I've lead church services. I've gone to concerts and other events (and contracted and overcome a fairly mild strain of Covid, something I'd like to avoid in the future). I've even re-entered my beloved world of theatre, directing a show and auditioning for others. Soon I'll perform again. Slowly, like everyone else, I'm rejoining the active world.

But my heart wants to stay on my safe, peaceful Isle.

Over the months, I've become accustomed to quiet. I've grown to adore the gentle rhythm of my days. I awaken and pray. I make tea. I check in with the world. I walk the dog. I talk to my husband. I text with my children and my friends. I watch shows, I read, I do chores, I write, I meditate. I interact with my spirit people, my guides, teachers, angels, and ancestors. I've even begun working with students at the local university on a part-time basis, putting my acting skills, my teaching background, and my healing knowledge to good use. I've taught some classes and workshops online, and I hope to do more. But there is one thing I've felt no urge to do, and it's the one thing that people ask me about all the time: "Rose, are you giving readings?"

No. No, I'm not. And I don't see this changing anytime soon.

I know this disappoints people. I know that some folks just don't understand why I've stepped away from giving readings, something I've done professionally since the age of 19. Perhaps the best way to sum up my reasons can be found in this meme I discovered recently online:

I feel honored and privileged to have served humanity and Spirit for so very long in my capacity as a professional psychic medium. I loved working for Spirit and bringing peace, guidance, and healing to those that sought these gifts through me. I know that we were brought together by Spirit. I'm grateful for all of the blessings this work brought to me and to our family. But burnout is a very real phenomenon in any profession, and it hit me hard, so hard that I didn't recognize what it was for a very long time. But in these last two years since I've closed my practice, I've come to a peace that I've not known before. That burnout is healing. I'm healing. I'm not sure I've recovered completely yet, and this meme reminded me that this is OK, too. I still serve Spirit as a minister, as a medium at church services and other public events, and in my work as a writer and a teacher. Some days I berate myself for not noticing sooner that I'd reached a breaking point. Maybe if I had, I wouldn't have had to step away completely. But hindsight is, as they say, 20/20, and I can't remake the past. And so I stand here now, in this place in my life: on my Isle of Glass. Cool mists roll around me, soothing my soul, reminding me of my responsibility to myself and my own healing, and I feel content with where I am. I'll always share with others the incredible gifts Spirit has shared with me. They'll simply be shared in different ways, ways that feel good and resonate with my healing heart. And this will have to be enough for everyone else. I've determined it's enough for me right now. I'm content. I breathe in the magick of Avalon and revel in the deep satisfaction that my soul feels. It is enough. I am enough, just as I am right now.

And so are you. May you always know this truth for yourself. May your spirit be free and unencumbered. May we all be authentic and blessed.