Grief

When Your Demons Come Home to Roost

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

Letters from Hell #6

Today is a bad day. This has been a difficult weekend. For no (every) reason whatsoever, I have been feeling profoundly sad bordering on depressed. This is a stuck kind of sorrow compounded by a prescription antidepressant that makes it really difficult for me to cry. I feel like I’ve got a 20 ton boulder sitting on my chest, just behind my sternum.

Usually, I know what to do with this kind of sorrow.  I sit with it. I allow myself to feel it. I apply Tonglen or Ho’oponopono to it. This time, neither seem to be budging the load.

I allowed myself a weekend of self-care. I planned for nothing and allowed myself to simply rest. I didn’t much have a choice as I’ve also been feeling the consequences of autumn allergies. To put it bluntly I feel like SH*T. I don’t do well when I’m sick. I tend to fall into judgment, self-loathing, and self-flagellation at the hands of my inner critic who looks an awful lot like the “Shame nun” from Game of Thrones. “Shame.  Shame.  Shame.”

I’m not good at being vulnerable. I feel embarrassed and ashamed. I don’t want to invite anyone into my vulnerability. There is really nothing anyone can say that will make it better when I’m feeling this way. I know I just need to wait it out.

This morning I wrote in my journal.  These are the words that surfaced:

Taking this moment to pause. Suffering fall allergies and the pure exhaustion of a forced life. How much have I forced my self to be and do ____________ instead of just being myself. I’m tired. I feel stuck, but I’m not sure I really care. I’ve worn out my dreams.

I’ve worn out my dreams.

My dreams of a forever love.

Dreams of becoming a successful writer.

Fantasies of becoming a sought-after teacher.

Herein lies at least one face of this deep sorrow. I’m grieving. I’m grieving the failure of the goals, wishes, and dreams I had for my life and which I pursued with a vengeance. No one can say that I didn’t try (though I know some who will tell me I didn’t try hard enough or in the right way – to them I say, whatever).

Life doesn’t always give us what we want. And when we don’t get what we want, we can be like Sisyphus vainly attempting to roll the boulder up the mountain, killing ourselves in the process, or step aside, letting gravity take the boulder to where it naturally wants to go.

At some point in our lives, we are all faced with a crowd of our unrealized dreams. We can cling to or try to revive these dreams, or we can surrender to the fact that maybe these dreams were never meant to be fulfilled and/or that the journey was the point, and not the destination.

It still makes me mad. I know what my gifts are and on some days it just kills me to know that they are not being utilized.

I grieve this as well.

As the Rolling Stones once said, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you’ll find, you get what you need.” (Hmmm….that might be bullshit too….unless they’re including getting what we need only by the skin of our teeth.)

Being human is hard. Today is one of those days where it feels especially hard. I don’t like feeling sad or vulnerable. I don’t appreciate the demons of self-doubt, personal loathing, or shame that dance around in my head when I’m feeling this way. I also know better than to try to “change my thoughts” (toxic positivity) in an attempt to make the demons go away.

Instead, I sit with the demons. I call each of them forward. And I do my best to LOVE them. Each of them arose out of some kind of need – whether it be the need to belong, the need to believe the lies of perceived authority, or to keep me in compliance with the system, they came as some kind of support. Additionally, they show up to remind me of the deep pain I’m still carrying from trauma I’ve experienced in my life, along with an invitation to tend to yet another deeper layer of that pain that is now ready to be seen, felt, processed and released.

As is always true of the spiritual journey – wash, rinse repeat. So back to the demons I go to hear what they have to offer me in the way of healing this time.

Thank you sirs, may I have another.

Letters from Hell #1

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 2 Comments

Beloved Friends,

I saw a meme yesterday that read:

What if in 2020 we all died and this is hell?

These are the first words that have made any sense of the world in which we are currently living, because beyond all that we see on the surface of things, it sure feels like hell.

For me, my heart is broken over all of it – but mostly over the violent division that seems to currently define our nation, if not the world. It seems everywhere I look the finger of blame is being pointed in the opposite direction from where it should be pointed – away instead of toward, because…..

This hell in which we are living, is one of our own making.

When humanity makes gods of men, looking outside of ourselves for guidance, authority, leadership and direction, this is what we get. A bunch of unqualified, overly loud individuals getting rich off our willingness to give them our power.

In this current version of hell, censorship is king. If the “Emperor” doesn’t like what you say about him, then through money and power, you are silenced. Or, if the Emperor is in need of a martyr, one will be created.

All of this to feed the beast of division. Those in power believing that in dividing the nation, they will gain more power. Strangely, it seems their tactics are working as the powerful few gain increasing wealth as the world falls around their feet. What will be left when they are done? A world of ash where beauty once stood? No wonder they’re looking for a way to settle on Mars.

Many of us have known this was coming, but nothing could have prepared us for how truly awful it really is. The long, slow, excruciatingly painful death of the world built on fear, power, and control. Daily, I plead with the universe, DIE ALREADY!

I’m exhausted for the end of things, hoping that when this is all over (will it ever be over?) humanity will find a way to live in peace. But for the love of God, how long is this going to take?

Physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally, I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.  I’m not sure how much more any of us can take. We seem to be suffering from a collective sort of PTSD and recent events have only made it worse (thank you Justine Joslyn for this reminder!). 

I know my PTSD is triggered. I feel vulnerable, raw, and highly emotional. My head hurts. I feel the physical effects of cortisol raging through my body producing flu-like symptoms. My heart hurts. I am finding it hard to breathe. I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. Yesterday, it was all I could do to sit on my couch and pray.

And when I’m at work, I feel broken and flawed. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong and that everything I’m doing is a mistake. I feel unqualified for a job for which I am, in truth, overqualified. I feel ashamed in my imperfection.

This is not me. At least, this isn’t normal me. This is me under panic and in a heightened state of activation. I am finding it hard to focus. I am doomscrolling for something – anything to make me feel safe.  I know better than this – but I can’t help myself.

I feel desperate – desperate for a moment to breathe, a moment to feel safe, a moment of peace in which the world isn’t suddenly exploding with some new tragic or devastating news. I hate it here.

But just when I’m ready to completely give up on humanity, wishing and hoping for this all to be over, I am reminded by the wisdom of youth, in this case my daughter. Yesterday I texted her, “The world just needs to end already.” This was her heart-wrenching, wise response:

“I want the world to get better. There’s still stuff I wanna do.”

UGH!  Knife to the heart! A knife to my heart that broke me wide open. In her wise words, my daughter spoke what we all want:

We want the world to be better. We want it to be better for ourselves, but even more so, for our children and our children’s children. For these, we must hang on to hope – cling to it even. With these words, I will leave you with this:

With the deepest love,

Lauri

Being a Death Priestess

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

I am a Death Priestess. 

Here to bear witness to the end of the world.

The collapse of an empire.

The implosion of patriarchy.

To weather the upheaval and chaos of a world in its undoing

while providing comfort to a terrified and grieving humanity.

The American experiment has failed.

Or rather, it has arrived at its foregone conclusion.

The natural outcome of a nation built on sand.

The weaknesses of the empire being revealed

and in those gaps evil has made a home.

Through the unfolding of events

we are being made to see it all –

the loathsome and the hideous.

But beneath all of this,

another world is being made.

Seeds already planted –

taking root and growing

out of the ash of the old.

A true resurrection.

Something new is happening here.

Do you see it?

For a Death Priestess is about

so much more than death.

We are also midwives –

ushering in the emergence of something new.

This one born of Love

rooted deeply in Truth

and formed in the Wholeness of Union.

So shall it be.

And so it is.

Endings

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 2 Comments

I’m writing this for the sake of transparency and to be open and honest about the vulnerability that comes with endings.

Endings: It seems that the work I have passionately nurtured over the past thirty years is coming to an end. I’m not going into the details of this because the details are boring and unimportant. What matters is that many people have been served and found benefit in my in-person and online courses and training programs. I am grateful to have been able to serve in this way and for the creative inspiration that brought these courses and services into being.

Endings: are weird. I should be sad, but I’m not. I have been sad and the grief has gone from despair to terror to writhing, to surrender. Today, I find myself resigned. As St. Paul said, “I’ve fought the good fight. (2 Timothy 4:7)” I’ve been obedient to the inner guidance that compelled me to create these courses and share them. I’ve done what I know how to do to extend invitations for people to participate. I’ve shown up as a facilitator and guide. For a time, people showed up to enthusiastically participate. Over time, that has dwindled. Now there is nothing.

Endings: It’s ok. “To everything there is a season….turn, turn, turn…” But I have to ask, what comes after reaping?

Endings: Nothing. Nothing comes after reaping.  After reaping is fallow time. It’s a time to rest and to wait. It’s a time to simply be. For now, this is what I’m doing. I know better than to beat bushes and chase after potential new opportunities. I know better than to try to hold up something that is already dead. I know better than to force something that is not yet ready to come into being.

Endings: Waiting in the no-thing is hard. Unfinished sorrows come up to be revisited. “Shoulda, coulda, woulda’s” whisper in our ears. With nothing to do we grow restless and impatient. We are tempted to try to “make things happen” when we are really only supposed to be anchored firmly in the void. Fears around survival make their appearance. “How will you pay your bills?  How will you cover rent? What will you do about money?” We are conditioned to act, but during these fallow times, our conditioning no longer serves.

Endings: Wait. Watch. Listen. Be present to whatever faces of grief and temptation show themselves. Refrain from doing or taking action until whatever is coming to take the place of what is ending shows itself. And know that the new, when it comes, will be obvious and exactly what I need at this place in my journey for whatever time I have left on this planet.

Endings: are a blessing for they clear the way for something new and better to take its place – often something we might never expect for ourselves and potentially something beyond our wildest dreams. I am willing to surrender to this ending so that new life might come in – whatever that new life might be.

Endings: another thing I’ve learned is that I am not in charge. Source/God alone knows what it has planned for me. “Let it be done to me according to your word.”

PS: for those who will want to worry, I’m really ok. Sad, yes. Unsure about what is to come, yes. And while I don’t exactly know what this ending will fully look like, it’s been a long-time coming. I’ve experienced endings before and know that here too, something is coming to take its place. It just hasn’t yet shown itself. Without my interference, it will and I will know it when it arrives. Thank you for your kind thoughts and support through this time of unknowing. Love, Lauri.

Accepting Support

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

For over twenty-five years I have been a source of support for individuals through the most vulnerable and tender parts of their human journeys. I have counselled people through the unexpected death of a child. I have supported couples facing the “dark night” of their marriage. I have been a welcome guide and mentor in the human journey of spiritual growth and development. I have provided healing for those experiencing mental, emotional, and spiritual pain. I have been a source of support through midlife crises, divorce, job loss, empty nest, and other deeply transformational times of transition.

Whether working with me over the phone, via ZOOM, or in my home, you will find a warm and welcoming place here where you can step away from the chaos and unrest of the outside world and be supported in returning to your heart – for it is there you will find rest, peace, and the answers to life’s questions. My hearth-fire is always burning. You will find comfort and safety here.

Learn more here

Mentorship with Lauri includes:

  • Personality, Temperament, and Gifts Assessments.
  • Exploration of the Soul’s calling.
  • Uncovering and transforming the obstacles to living out that calling through a variety of mindfulness, creativity, and shamanic practices including Lauri’s trademarked Authentic Freedom™ protocol.
  • Depth work – identifying ungrieved losses, unhealed wounds, past traumas, ancestral trauma, and learning shamanic practices for transforming and releasing them.
  • Shadow work – uncovering the unintegrated and often rejected parts of self and bringing them into wholeness.
  • Ongoing support.
email lauri@lauriannlumby.com to schedule

On the Verge of Tears

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 5 Comments

As I read through the comments on Sunday’s blog, the energy and words I heard were, “always on the verge of tears.” I heard these words as true for me, and wondered if it has also been true for others.

I believe we have a lot to cry about.

As one who has been on the forefront of the human consciousness evolution, calling myself (among other things): lightworker, shadow worker, depth worker, healer, guide, prophet, witch, and starseed, I have been both witness to and participant in what many have called (incorrectly) ascension.

To put it in simple terms: I have felt a calling and a drive to be part of a movement to provide humanity with the healing it needs to live more fully from love and less from a place of fear. Since 1994, this work has consumed me.

It’s been a bittersweet journey. I’ve seen the benefit of deep inner work within myself, in my ability to parent my children, in my work with clients and in conversations with friends and collaborators. I have found a community of people in Oshkosh, and beyond, who are involved in similar and complementary work. I have established an online community of a few who are equally committed to being love in the world for the sake of the betterment of the human experience. I am connected with hundreds of people online who are committed to this kind of work through their own unique gifts.

And yet….I find myself weary. I know many others who have also grown weary.

Human beings are a stubborn lot. Firmly attached to the status quo. Resistant to change. Often seeing change-makers and visionaries as the enemies, leading some to resist that change through violence. It seems humanity would prefer to live in a world of hatred and fear than to do the deep inner work of healing that which causes them to be non-loving toward themselves and others.

Remember when this work was supposed to be completed by 2012?  (insert hysterical sarcastic laughter) How we find ourselves approaching the end of 2024 and not much has changed. Human beings are still making war and solving conflicts through threats of violence. Humans continue to be greedy, destructive, and jealous.

In short, humans kinda suck.  It’s why I refuse to claim membership within the human species. I’m not sure what I am, but not one who thrives on being cruel to other human beings. (admittedly, some might consider me cruel – but in reality, I just have really good boundaries!)

When I look at humanity, I feel sad. I’m sad that they would choose hatred over compassion, fear over love, violence over peace. I’m dumbfounded by the dogged clutching after separation, division, prejudice, and discrimination.

Perhaps I wouldn’t be so saddened by humanity’s choice if I hadn’t discovered another way. This “other way” was somehow present in my heart from the moment of my birth/conception. I also found that “other way” in the peace movement of the late 1960’s and early 70’s. I further found it in the social justice work performed by the church in which I was raised. Most acutely I discovered it in Jesus’ teachings – not as they were taught to me from the pulpit, but that which I discovered through my own meditation, prayer, contemplation, and study, additionally reflected in the spiritual teachings of the ancients whose books have fallen into my lap over these very many years.

I know I’m not alone in this. Everyone with whom I have been doing this work, talking about this work, supporting this work, speaks of “another way.” This “other way” came to us. We did the work to be healed by it and to be made more whole. We’ve tried to share it with others. We’ve even provided the resources and tools for human beings to learn to become this love themselves.

And yet…..here we are.

I am weary. I am sad. Pretty much every day I feel on the verge of tears. Tears over what? Not getting my way? Tears over all that I/we have given up to do this work? Crying over the things that could have been had we not been called into this movement of love? Weeping over what others seem to have/enjoy that were never an option for me/us? Tears over the friends, family, clients who feel away over the years? Grief over all those millions who have died simply because humanity refused to set aside their separation and learn how to love?

Indeed.  There is a lot to cry about.

And maybe this is part of the limbo I spoke about. Maybe we need this in-between time to process all we’ve been through. Perhaps we need this time to grieve – to grieve all we personally lost, all we were made to leave behind, all the difficulty and struggle we’ve experienced in choosing love over fear. Grieving all the times we’ve been misunderstood, ignored, ridiculed, condemned. Weeping over the deep loneliness that comes in doing this work.

If indeed we are at the end of something and preparing for something new to take its place, grief is not only predictable but appropriate.

When we feel on the verge of tears, the invitation is to embrace these tears as part of our grieving, and in giving those tears release, allowing healing to take its place. Or if you’re like me and you’re on medication that hinders your ability to cry, find those things that help to bring them on. Yesterday for me, it was watching the “Making of Mary Poppins” documentary on Hulu – the bird lady does it to me every time!

Goddess of Darkness?

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

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.

Order New Moon Coffee!

Order whole bean or ground New Moon original roast coffees by calling (920) 232-0976.

For dark roasts, I highly recommend the Goddess of Darkness or the South 605.

Tell them Lauri the Goddess of Darkness sent you. 😉

The Tangled Web of Grief

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

This weekend my heart is heavy over the many deaths this week which have been brought into my awareness, including the death of a close friend.

This has been an anxious week of vigil, waiting, and then “sitting shiva” over not only my friend’s death, but the deaths of so many others who I know either closely or by acquaintance. I’ve also been in the throes of grief – experiencing every face of grief, seemingly all at once. Denial, bargaining, anger, depression and sorrow.  In the midst of this grief, I also find myself tempted by self-judgment. I’m coming to believe this judgment may be part of the bargaining stage of grief. “If I hadn’t been foolish enough to care about this person then I wouldn’t be feeling so bad.” 

Death is hard and often brings up questions. Death is NOT a guarantee of closure. Death leaves many questions unanswered and conflicts unresolved. We can’t go back to clarify confusion or ask for explanations. All we can do is sit in the discomfort of vacancy and a whole lot of unknowns. Death brings confusion and there is nothing we can do to resolve that confusion. 

So we sit, and twitch. We pick at our wounds. We grieve. We battle our inner self-talk. We rage. We sit in the state of paralysis unable to do, or think, or even find stillness in being. In death, we are reminded of how excruciatingly human, vulnerable, and fragile we are, and we are invited to be with this humanness until we can accept this as who we are. 

Perhaps this is the stage of “acceptance” that grief experts speak of. It’s not about acceptance of the loss of the person we cared for, it’s about accepting the most vulnerable, wounded, and fragile parts of who we are and loving ourselves anyway.  

Melancholy

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 2 Comments

There is a kind of melancholy
that inhabits a woman of a certain age.
Like a cloak of kelp and arame draped across her shoulders –
Clinging and dripping,
Enfolding her in saline dampness.
Salty, cold, and wet from a lifetime of tears –
Some shed. Some withheld.
Sorrow-ridden tears of loss.
Bitter tears of betrayal.
Volcanic tears of rage.
All comingled with fleeting tears of joy.

A woman’s heart is tender –
despite the strength she must show to the world.

Melancholy creeps in like mist through a crack in the door
filling every space with a weightless veil
carrying all the pain of the world.
She barely sees its coming
until realizing it’s here.
Impenetrable.
Eternal.
It’s made a home in her.

Initially unwelcome –
something that must be expunged.
But the more it’s met with resistance
the louder its cries become.
Until the moment she accepts melancholy’s heavy wrap,
there she discovers not pain but comfort.

Melancholy is neither curse, nor depression to be shunned.
Instead, melancholy is the acknowledgment of all a woman has held on her own –
the cloak of comfort she could not give to herself and what she didn’t receive from the world.

Join Me Beside the Hearth

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

For over twenty-five years I have been a source of support for individuals through the most vulnerable and tender parts of their human journeys. I have counselled people through the unexpected death of a child. I have supported couples facing the “dark night” of their marriage. I have been a welcome guide and mentor in the human journey of spiritual growth and development. I have provided healing for those experiencing mental, emotional, and spiritual pain. I have been a source of support through midlife crises, divorce, job loss, empty nest, and other deeply transformational times of transition.

Whether working with me over the phone, via ZOOM, or in my home, you will find a warm and welcoming place here where you can step away from the chaos and unrest of the outside world and be supported in returning to your heart – for it is there you will find rest, peace, and the answers to life’s questions. My hearth-fire is always burning. You will find comfort and safety here.

With love,

Lauri

Email lauri@lauriannlumby.com to schedule a one-on-one session with me! We can meet via ZOOM, over the phone, or in my home if you are local. My suggested fee is $165.00 per session and I offer a sliding scale for those for whom $165.00 would be a reach. Don’t hesitate to reach out!