on being lost, and then, found 🌹⚓️

photo credit: Margaret Hallinan | poem credit: Emory Hall

During late winter in 2017, I found myself in a church sanctuary alone.

It was so quiet.

…so still

…so holy.

And, my heart broke wide open.

I started sobbing.

Uncontrollable sobs.

I didn’t understand what was happening, and no matter how hard I tried, the tears wouldn’t stop coming.

I later learned from my Spiritual Director, Cheryl, that *that* was the Holy Spirit.

Whoa.

Here’s my instagram post about that holy day. What I love is that I quote Meggan Watterson who is a thought leader in sacred feminine spirituality and who specializes in Mary Magdalene. Even back then, I knew. I knew and remembered that sacred feminine spirituality is where my ♥️ heart belongs. Read on for clarity on what I’m talking about. 😉

I’m still blown away that I got to experience such a profound, sacred moment.

I was visiting MI because Kay lived there and was an Episcopal priest at that church.

That evening, the wind knocked out the electricity, so we had literally nothing to do except be cold (SO very cold) and stare at each other.

Kay, Matthew (her husband) and I sat around their kitchen table all bundled up. I took advantage of the moment and decided to be vulnerable and explain what happened to me that day. Also, Kay and Matthew are extremely theologically intelligent people, and I had some big ass Qs I needed to ask.

Such as:

• If the Bible starts at the beginning, WTF with dinosaurs?

• Mother Mary *did* have sex and conceive, right?

• We do believe in the Big Bang, right?

Our candlelit conversation went on for hours and I learned so, so, so much. I’m actually forever grateful for the wind knocking out the electricity, so I could have the space to go deep with Kay + Matthew.

As time moved on and with my Michigan experience close to my heart, I began to feel more and more called forward, spiritually.

My soul wanted something for me, but I couldn’t figure it out.

Then, 18 months after my time in MI, I had an idea to start a social media account for Episcopalian women. I asked Kay if we could use pieces of her weekly sermons to create content, and she agreed. Now with my gift of digital design, and her words, the two of us had everything we needed to make this happen. From there, we birthed Her Way of Love, an Episcopal Women’s Ministry.

It was so beautiful.

It was so successful.

And, after it a while, I felt the same familiar feeling of lead in my stomach as my inner being told me, “no, Danielle, not this.”

I was so confused. Why was my soul not on board if this idea checked all the boxes?

✅ I’m working with my Kay
✅ I’m sharing my gifts
✅ Her Way of Love + Kay’s words were making an impact + offering love + healing
✅ I’m born and raised an Episcopalian…The Hymnal feels like a connection to my ancestors + The Book of Common Prayer feels like grounding.

….so how could this feel like a no?

The bottom line is: Although Episcopalianism is a beautiful theology that’s rich with tradition, progressive leadership + a MASSIVE part of my lineage, something has never truly resonated.

In comes what I can only call A Dark Night of the Soul:

Often misdiagnosed as depression, the true dark night of the soul is a spiritual crisis, not a psychological one. This is an archetypal journey, one that begins in the realm of the senses, but the destination is mysticism. Its purpose is to break you down and change your understanding of how the divine works in your life. It is a journey to embrace, though full of obstacles and challenges.
- Gaia

Since Kay and I closed the doors to Her Way of Love in 2020, I felt spiritually lost and unhealthier than ever.

I didn’t know what I believed.

In fact, I didn’t know if I believed anything anymore.

And, physically, my body was suffering, too.

My amazing Spiritual Director walked with me through the Dark Night of My Soul. My time with her became my only connection to my faith. She assured me that it was all good, no matter what. Even if we just sat quiet for an hour, that was still good and that was enough. (Thank you, Cheryl.)

For the last 4 years, I just let it all be.

Let it be what it was.

Until January 2024, when I found myself immersed in the teachings of sacred feminine spirituality.

book credit: The Dance of the Dissident Daughter: A Woman's Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine

I have no real words to explain what has happened to me over the course of these 3 months. Except to say, I’ve woken up.

My soul has been celebrating… “YESSSSSS!! THIS!!”
✨🎉🌹⚓️🕊️

I’m in a spiritual awakening: a shedding, growth, and rebirth of my soul.

Annnnddd, of course, all of my shadows 👻 want to come out and play as I step on this “new” path.

I’m having to work through being so worried of what people will think of me (they’ll think it’s waayayyy too woo-woo, they’ll think it’s a cult {omg, stop, it’s not}, that I worship unicorns, that I don’t love Jesus {I do!}, I’m not a “REAL” Christian, blah, blah, blah).

I extend those worried parts of me so much compassion, and if there are people who feel that way about me, that’s not my business, that’s theirs.

I’m choosing to follow my sacral (my authority in Human Design) + ultimately my soul’s calling.

For you my darling reader, I want you to know that if you feel spiritually confused, or if you, too, may also be in a Dark of Night of the Soul, trust the process. It’s all okay. No matter what you do, or don’t believe, it’s all ok.

Find yourself a spiritual guide to stand witness to you.

As for the beautiful quote by Emory Hall that I shared at the beginning:

I lay flowers at the feet of all the women I’ve been. For all the ways I keep growing and following the breadcrumbs of where I’m meant to go, what I’m meant to do here, and the woman I’m always becoming.

Love, love, love,
Danielle

P.S. That moment in the church absolutely was the Holy Spirit…the Great Mother…and the tears were my soul remembering HER. 🌹🕊️

make peace
with all the women
you once were

lay flowers
at their feet

offer them incense
and honey
and forgiveness

honor them
and give them
your silence

listen.

bless them
and let them be.

for they are the bones
of the temple
you sit in now.

for they are
the rivers
of wisdom
leading you toward
the sea.

//i have been a thousand different women

By Emory Hall from her new book “Made of Rivers”