A funny thing happened last week that completely and totally made my day. I was stopping at my favorite local coffee shop (the one I call my second home) for my 10 am emotional support coffee. There was a newish batch of baristas working and I asked to be reminded of our new family members’ names.  One of the newish baristas reminded me of his name.  I said thank you, and was about to re-introduce myself and he interrupted, “Oh I know you as Lauri, Goddess of Darkness.” My heart melted with the fire of pure joy for being seen and known for who I truly am. 

There’s a story about my name – as it relates to The New Moon Café and Coffee Shop. The owner and I are good friends and have known each other for close to twenty-five years. Since the first day the New Moon opened, I’ve been a devoted and regular customer.  One day, I happened upon the owner as he was bringing in bags of coffee beans to be roasted. (they roast their own coffee and as a coffee connoisseur, I can attest their coffee is THE BEST I’ve ever tasted – especially their dark roasts) Aaron (my brother from another mother) says,  “Lauri, check this out, I have a new fair-trade bean, from an all-woman cooperative.”  “Oh my god, that’s so cool,” I said.   Then jokingly, “You should do two roasts – a light roast and name it Goddess of Light and a dark roast and name it Goddess of Darkness.”  I returned a couple days later to a sign announcing the latest dark roast coffee – “Goddess of Darkness” – named for and by me. (I also only drink dark roast).  I LOVE MY NEW MOON FAMILY!

That’s the story of how a coffee got named, but in having an inside joke with me, Aaron unwrapped a deep and profound truth. As my life has continued to unfold, I find myself living more and more deeply into this name – Goddess of Darkness – so dark in fact, I may as well start calling myself Death.

As those who have worked with me professionally know, my greatest gifts lie in the shadows. I’m comfortable journeying with and supporting people through the darkest parts of life. Through the places that most are afraid to go. Death. Loss. Recovery from trauma, abuse, betrayal, heartbreak. I help people exhume that which has been buried/suppressed/repressed and assist them in bringing it to the light to be healed and transformed. I accompany people in the journey of facing their own shadow – the parts of themselves they’ve rejected, suppressed, ignored, freeing them from that which keeps them imprisoned by fear. I have sat with people through the most difficult places and parts of their journey, assuring them they are not alone, providing comfort and a place where they can be unburdened of all the pain they hold within themselves.

I am humbled and honored to be called into these intimate spaces with people – family, friends, and clients/students alike.  I personally find comfort in the darkness for it is within the darkness that we find our truest selves.

Not everyone is comfortable in this dark place – especially when that dark place is defined by Death. Death holds a special kind of intimacy that requires both strength and vulnerability. More and more often, I find myself called into the most unexpected places where Death presides. Whether accompanying dear friends through the death of a child, being one of the first ones called when an acquaintance suffers a medical emergency, being invited to create and preside over a stranger’s funeral, or being invited to be confidant to one moving through a terrifying medical diagnosis, I am there – and I’m honored to be there. Death, to me is perhaps the most sacred of all human experiences for in facing Death, we are given the opportunity to see the face of God/Love. There is nothing more tender or intimate than being with another human being who finds themselves at the threshold between life and death – whether it is the person who is dying, or those who are experiencing death through the journey of one they love. Death is a holy and sacred place and I’m grateful for whatever it is in me that allows me to sit with another in that space as a source of  – whatever they need. One time, what the bereaved needed from me was to weed their garden, because it was the one thing they couldn’t find the strength to do as they sat with a loved one in their final hours. I was there for that too.

So yeah, while “Goddess of Darkness” was initially a bit of a joke, this title has born itself out as true. I’m comfortable journeying with others through the darkest times of life – even/especially (it seems) when the darkness they are facing is Death itself, and I am humbled and honored to be there.

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