Redefining My Work

Pulling back to listen more closely

Shuddering Open

Illness has a way of rearranging everything. Right now, it has stripped so much from me — my energy, my sense of certainty, even the work I thought I could count on. It has left me questioning what remains, and what still matters.

For years, I was the one who pushed through, who held everything together. But this illness has asked me to stop pushing and start listening. My body is no longer something I can control. It has become my teacher, my guide — though the lessons are not easy.

I’ve realized I can’t rush decisions from this place. I feel that whatever I choose now will shift after ceremony next month. It’s as if life is holding me still so I can hear something I’ve ignored for far too long.

One way I listen is through painting. For me, painting is not about making something beautiful — it is a ritual of self-discovery. Each brushstroke helps me hear the truth underneath the exhaustion and the fear. Some days, the canvas catches my tears. Other days, it opens into color I didn’t know I still carried. It reminds me: I’m still here.

Lately, as I paint, I’ve felt something stirring. Archetypal energies rising from somewhere deeper — the Warrior who is learning to soften, the Priestess who whispers: be still, hold steady, the Mother whose thread runs through my blood. It feels as if ceremony is calling them forward in me.

I don’t know what it will look like yet. But I know this: listening, even in illness, is weaving me into a path I couldn’t have imagined on my own.

👉 If you’ve ever had to pause your plans and simply listen for what’s true, know you are not alone. Sometimes the pause itself is sacred.

With love,

Debra