Part 4: I have no idea what I’m doing.

I don’t know exactly what I’m doing. Because I’m not here to regurgitate existing options, most of which (all of which) were designed in patriarchy.

I’ve heard over and over from various sources that when you really get close to something, it feels like nothing makes sense and it’s all going to fall apart. I’ve heard that when it’s about to all come together is when most people tear it down. 

I have no idea if things are coming together. 

I have, in my life, worked for things to watch them fail. I have given my all to things that did not become financially viable. I have poured love into relationships that did not pay off. 

I likely also have pulled out just before things were about to get good. I’ve watched myself almost sabotage things in the very recent past, with enough self awareness now to know when to zip it lest I destroy something viable. 

I have some wild ideas. This past week, I was interviewed on my friend Laura McCann’s show called “People We Adore” because Laura recognizes that I have some pretty new ideas. And what I appreciate about her reflection of me and my ideas is that she reflects to me things like, “You’re living it. You’re living on the edge. You’re living the experiment you believe in.” 

Thanks for noticing, Laura. 

It’s true – I’ve done pretty wild things like left a stable career when my son was in the 4th grade and then sold our home to free myself from karmic shadow-masculine contracts. On and on. I have lived the Sacred Remembering path and my life doesn’t even make sense anymore by conventional standards (some things are a little difficult to justify to my ex-husband, for example, as I take my child with me on this journey.) 

Recently, I dissolved my LLC, started a Ministry, moved to community, got a bit of a job after five years as an entrepreneur to put some stability under my ass, and am turning my membership into a space of regenerative prosperity for all women involved. I could have kept building an “empire” but it started to feel shitty and lonely. Did I pull out before it got good? Or did I know it wasn’t the way? Hmm…. maybe both? Maybe who knows? Maybe who cares! 

Let’s start with… I dissolved my LLC. 

So, LLC is a legal structure and essentially a taxable entity, and one option on a standard menu when one wants to “go into business.” Well, we as sovereign, questioning and discerning women might start to ask ourselves questions like, “Why if I want to do my soul’s work in the world, do I need to do it under a prescribed legal structure?”  “Why, in said legal structure, is it actually harder to accrue resources? Why am I participating in something that makes it more difficult to redistribute money directly to women?” (Because that’s not what it was established to do, of course.)  

When one starts to ask, “How can I become the most sovereign with all of my resources?” then one receives innovative answers. 

Having an LLC didn’t feel good after I built it and looked around me. It was another way that I’d bought into patriarchal structures that, seems to me, didn’t actually serve me or regenerative economics. So, no thank you. My mission is my mission and doesn’t belong to a predetermined legal structure and I don’t need permission from a Big Daddy agency in order to run it. Bye! 

Secondly… A Ministry… 

This one gets really fun in Part 5, just wait. But here I’ll say – if my work is not through my ego (part 2) and my work is my mission (it is) then my work is service. It is not a business, it is not for profit, it is not something to be mandated by anyone other than Source. My soul’s work and mission is via my own sovereign energy and that of Creator, and it is through this co-creative relationship that the magic and miracles of the work and influence will come about. So THAT is where I want my energy, money, time, attention, resources, and talent to go. I do not consent to agencies siphoning off of my energy while I’m trying to do my soul’s work, thank you very much. 

This Ministry is about our sovereign connection with Source, with this planet, and is held in the unified field, where your energy will naturally organize. This Ministry is about each woman’s sovereignty, and for each woman to learn to foster and trust her sovereignty and direct connection with the divine. This Ministry is a strong antidote to separation messaging and is a path to reunification with the Sacred, with Source, with the Soul. Women, standing in the truth of who they are – resourced AF with SOURCE. 

Thirdly… A Membership Community aka Sacred Remembering (Church)… 

Here’s where I’m really following my intuition to (hopefully) create an actual space where the Heartland regenerative energetics are thriving and women are becoming MORE financially resourced. I sense an entirely new energetic structure of regeneration and replenishment coming for everyone involved. I’m still receiving the specifics (you know, from Source), and more and more come to me the more I commit. 

For any one woman to create an empire, and have other women following her, could become a little schemy and also it’s an old method of hyper-individualism that breeds competition. Blech. I didn’t really set out to have to “sell myself” as an entrepreneur, but that’s what that style of solo entrepreneurship requires. It’s constant. It is so much pressure to keep producing even when one feels lonely or downtrodden (and in that model, it’s not even okay to admit that). So I grew up a bit. 

I want to receive money for my sacred work. I also want my friends to receive money for their sacred work. I want to pay women who I know to help bring the sacred work into the world. I want women to get paid rightfully for their energy. I want to have enough and share more. I want to create a network of women that all benefit when one woman benefits. These are New Earth energetics, these are regenerative ideas, and it is rightful. So I want to figure out a way that this happens. Together, in Heartland Ministries and the Sacred Remembering Community, I believe that we will figure this out. 

I don’t know exactly what I’m doing. Because I’m not here to regurgitate existing options, most of which (all of which) were designed in patriarchy.

Fffffffff that. No. 

I am here to help establish new paradigms. With my life. With my energy, heart, body and resources. Only that will do. 

A few years ago, feeling timid yet much more determined and courageous than I am even now, I was standing in the kitchen of the house I ended up selling and I thought, “Well, fuck. It’s as though my soul is guiding me such that I can’t even participate in anything patriarchal anymore. It just doesn’t even work.” Yes, dear past-Sarah, you nailed it. That was and is exactly the case. 

I’m a rebel and I don’t necessarily even mean to be anymore. It’s just who I am. It’s messy, especially when I let the human ego get loud in my head with notions of failure or scarcity. I think the difference is, I’m no longer naive. I’m aware that patriarchy and sexism and separation exist everywhere everyday and just because I say “no” to it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect my life and the lives of those I love. 

In fact, the fact that I’ve said “no” to it with my life and it still exists has, in the past, made my life much harder. Complacency is easy. Actually figuring out how to be sovereign in your energy such that you can’t be siphoned from, and also, such that you don’t feel like you just walked through a battlefield every dang day is significant work. Thankfully, I am “getting it” and it’s getting easier. 

Sovereignty isn’t about fighting or defending. It’s about discerning and owning the fuck out of what you give your energy to and what you don’t. When women do that, it changes the world. 

My job is to live as often and as many moments as I can in what I call “The Heartland” – the space of the Regenerative Feminine. Because when I live it, and teach others how to feel and hold the frequencies, we transcend patriarchy. 


You know, I think this might be the point of the breakthrough. I have a pretty good feeling about it. But if not, if you’ve known me for any time at all, you know I’ll keep going. 


I do want to say thank you – to the women who see me NOT succeeding in so many (traditional) ways and who hear my worries and who still sit beside me, join my ministry board of trustees, make altars on my behalf, and believe in me when I crash. Thank you for continuing to come to the Sacred Remembering calls, for referring your friends, for trusting me to caretake your partnerships and your children.  I love you. Let’s do this. Let’s get paid well and make new models. I can’t do it without you and don’t want to. The New Earth is here and we are it. 

If you’d like to join the waitlist for Heartland 2023, it is now open HERE.

Part 3: Turning Pro

A month ago, I was spending a day in New York City with my two children. 

That sentence doesn’t really feel like my life. 

My son and I traveled to visit my sister and her baby in New Jersey for spring break, which is where my daughter lives. My daughter was adopted at birth -I’m a birth mom – and she’s going to grad school while living at home with her awesome parents and she joined Rowan and I for a train ride into New York City for the day. 

It was awesome. I could count on one hand the number of days that I’ve ever spent alone with my two children. (We’ve spent many days together with family via it being an open adoption from the start.) 

After visiting the MET, we were walking toward the Strand bookstore (one of my favorite places in NYC is Union Square and the Strand, but turns out not so much for my kids.) So I drug them down to Union Square Park and I was telling Phoebe, my daughter, how I’d submitted a book proposal to a semiannual contest at HayHouse this past winter and in February it received an honorable mention and was in the top ten. 

Her face so genuinely lit up with excitement that it was one of those moments that I was transported out of the tunnel-vision of “This is my life where I frequently struggle and I’ve got to just keep plugging away at it” and into a realm of “Oh, she just reflected that this is super cool and you know what, IT IS!” 

And we were headed into the STRAND! Such a fantastic independent bookstore, and I was like, “All I want is to have books published!! Look at all these people who saw it through, who did it. I’m doing it!” 

And then I looked down and saw the book Turning Pro by Steven Pressfield. I’d read The War of Art a few years ago when a coach had sent it to me, and I definitely took it as a bit of a sign that I’d just shared not only that I’d gotten close to winning a publishing deal, but also, that I knew why I hadn’t. 

Heartland is incredible. It’s a new idea, it’s an original transmission, it’s well written, entertaining with sacred stories, and full of a “codex” of new information for women to come out of scarcity and into a regenerative and prosperous ethos. This book has not been done before (couldn’t possibly, because like Liz Gilbert describes in Big Magic, it’s coming through me) and also, the world needs it. HayHouse recognized that. They told me that clearly I was a gifted storyteller and the idea of writing about women’s resources as they related to men & patriarchy was important. 

The constructive criticism they gave was spot-on. My most important chapters hadn’t been polished, so I didn’t submit those in the proposal. What I submitted didn’t give them a true taste of the teachings within this “teachable memoir.” I think I can win the contest without an editor (I got an honorable mention without an editor) but the Heartland that would win the book proposal contest is a more poignant and powerful version. It’s the one I’m now able to finish. 

I bought Turning Pro. Of course I did. 

And it was an awesome decision, and an awesome book, and I’m pretty much listening to Steven Pressfield weekly at this point because he talks about overcoming resistance, putting your ass in the chair, and showing up for the muse. 

(That’s what I’m doing by writing this five-part story update, you see?) 

Steven Pressfield doesn’t let you get away with bullshit. Nor would HayHouse, nor does God, nor should I. 

So, I’m writing daily, in my new house. I’m showing up to the keyboard and the projects and it is painful like birth some days getting myself to show up, and then, when I do, it’s like euphoria. Pretty much every time. And every time I write Heartland, it writes itself. I’m honestly writing things that my human ego personality, that would hold onto suffering for eternity if I let it, can’t even believe I know or I’m saying. 

I don’t know if I’ve ever really admitted that for all the things I can do, for all the things on my resume to all the things I spouted on about on that podcast, to the way I can channel and hold sacred and profound spaces, I have still struggled and suffered so much as a human – both who didn’t know I was worth it to actually struggling to survive really dark and horrible shit. Like, for example, losing a daughter at 19, and then on and on from there. One of my primary life lessons in Human Design is about mindset. Where will I put my focus, and what can happen if I practice all of what I preach? 

I want to turn it to gold. I want to disown nothing and allow everything and still turn it all to gold. 

I don’t know if I’ll win HayHouse next year, but I’ll publish this book regardless, and then another, and then another, because this life of mine requires it. 

Requires it. 

People who know me well say that they trust me, as a leader and teacher, because of my willingness to be real and honest. I think that this is me, owning my humanness, and expanding in self-trust at the same time. 

This is me, sitting my ass where my heart wants to be, as Steven says, so that I do something with this precious life and this collection of sacred and mundane stories, skills and talents that maybe, just maybe, I can affect the world with. 

My work now is to show up inside the process because the process itself is calling. My work is not to do anything so that some result happens. The work is commitment, it is living, it is answering the soul’s call and not waiting another day or year. 

Part IV is next…. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Part 2: Ego Death

Looking back, last year was an ego death. 

It wasn’t a dark night of the soul – I’ve had those. It was more so a beautiful messy emotional and true period of time in which I allowed anything that didn’t feel good to dissolve and disassemble, and where I actually, genuinely and truly came to love myself. 

Honestly, I wish this for all of us. It was the most gracious thing that could have happened to my life.

My self esteem had always seemed to be fine, but as it turns out, I didn’t feel lovable. I felt that what had been reflected to me, over and over, was a sense of being picked over, or (men or potential clients) not valuing the offer of my heart. This impacted my self value and financial value as well. It sounds so sad, I know. And it was! It felt awful trying to constantly overcome that and keep putting myself, my work, and my heart out there. (I wrote about what took me down last year in this post here.)

The journey to one’s own genuine lovability is a bit like walking barefoot on uncomfortable gravel in wet clothing with too few coins in your pocket… for a long time. 

And then truly realizing and knowing your lovability is like warming to the bone, chill be gone, and all the comfort returns. 

My father had this cassette tape when I was growing up of a sermon where Pastor Ed of my childhood church talked about five-year-old me. My PopPop had just died, I was five, and I was apparently in Pastor Ed’s office for him to console me. I genuinely liked him. But the sermon he gave talked about how I recognized that he wasn’t feeling well himself, and the line that my father quoted about me my whole life was when Ed said, “Her arms went strong around my neck.” Lately, I’ve been thinking about the five year old me that knew how to love like that. 

She rocks. 

Her heart is good and she’s more than lovable. I love feeling her heart that is my heart. 

You know how when you do EFT (tapping) and you say the script, “And I deeply and completely love, honor, and accept myself?” Well, a year ago, I was tapping with diligence and I didn’t know if I truly believed the script. I wanted to, but the feelings didn’t match up. Did I not love myself? Was I feeling the chilled-to-the-bone feeling of unlovability as it had been reflected to me? Either way, it was unpleasant period to traverse. 

Now, I tap and I’m like, “Yeah I do!” and it’s very real. There’s not an ounce of doubt. I love, honor, and accept myself. I’m not perfect or flawless, but I’m good. I love my goodness. Like that five year old me, revealing the pure heart of me, I like my loving heart. 

Loving my heart is different than loving my ego or personality. It’s not egoic. It’s like knowing that I’m good with God, that the “I” doesn’t matter as much as the love, and acting through love. 

Recently I was talking with a friend about the concept of identity. Sometimes we feel like we need to have words to describe identity. Like “Gay, straight, pan, woman, man, trans, teacher, entrepreneur, soul-preneur, healer, partner…” and so on. We, the human with the life we try to construct and put together, and the ego with the questions that ask “Am I good enough yet?” “Have I done enough yet?” these are the parts of us that want to make sure that everyone knows who we are. 

And those were the parts of me that didn’t know if I was lovable, because the metrics weren’t really showing the proof that my ego needed. 

Was my work enough? Was my love enough? Why wasn’t it being reflected back to me? 

Last year, was I loved or lovable was the question that I walked through unexpected mud with, and then, the liberation came through something like a love affair with the divine. Or just the Sacred Remembrance that the love of the divine is mine. The human in me will fuck up or not know what to do, make mistakes in relationships or be too much for someone and get hurt. These are conditional, and these are human conditions. My personality will continue to be involved, because the ego never goes away so long as we’re still human, and that’s perfectly fine. So the term “ego death” is a bit metaphorical, because the ego stays. It just ceases to control you, it ceases to be your why. 

Right now, I honestly don’t know the exact place of the woman named Sarah Poet. I don’t feel attached to that. That’s not my focus. Rather, my focus is listening for what wants to be created through the life force that I am. My focus is on being love in more moments. My focus is in living a mission I was put here to live. Really, it’s to feel and express the mission my soul came with in this lifetime, and the “I” follows that. 

Part of that mission, I know this to be true, is to gracefully experience love. First in my own heart, and with the divine, and then with others. My mission is also to write, to bring forward the teachings that life has given me while I’ve been fumbling around the past number of years so desperately trying to be successful yet with awakening details that blow one’s mind – my ego personality was working hard, and Spirit was still working through me, and if I can go ahead and enjoy some newfound stability, then I can organize these findings into some healthy transmissions that maybe, just maybe, can impact the world on a larger scale for the better. Not because my ego personality wants to make money or run a business, but because the world could benefit from what I’ve learned. 

As a mentor of mine said to me this week, “Sarah, you’re a teacher.” It’s true. I was a career educator, it is throughout my Human Design, and Spirit’s been nudging me to recognize the words “spiritual teacher” lately. This is a funny and wild thing for a human woman to recognize, to accept, to commit to walking the path of without corruption that comes through the ego. Thank God the path has lead me through such humbling depths such that the ego is now subdued enough that I can get the work done without being attached to the identity of teacher. Well played, Soul. Okay, I accept. Let’s do this. 

I’m working on allowing myself to recognize that what happens when the ego lets go, and the life is lived through love, is probably a pretty amazing thing. It’s probably bigger and more successful than anything my ego-identified self ever dreamed of before. And I am so glad that it is not my ego that will be driving that train, and that my love, and the vastness of my heart, finally feels ready for what may happen – if my soul and the divine decide this is what is meant to be. 

Thanks for reading my update. This was part 2. I’ll be back with parts 3, 4, & 5.

Do you have a desire to be able to own your full story, the full truth of who you are? Join the Sacred Remembering Community today.

PART 1: Update – I got a job & moved to community.

Last year, I started to dream about living in a community with my son. I had dabbled in sharing land with other mothers during the beginning of the pandemic, and I liked the idea of groups of intentional people coming together around a purpose or cause. 

I am very much an introvert, and I actually have very little patience for long, winding conversations about ideals. I prefer setting conscious intention and then trusting that my/our actions and the Creator are co-creating according to that intention. So I didn’t want to live in an ideological or unspecified “intentional community,” because I thought it would drive me nuts. 

So after a breakup last year, I’d had it. I called a friend who was well connected and told her what I was looking for. “I want to live in community. I want to work with good people toward a common goal. I want to raise Rowan among other people and not be so damn isolated. This solo path is exhausting.” 

I spoke it. 

She introduced me to some people the following weekend and I felt a connection to that land. I hoped that it might work out, but long story short, that wasn’t the place. 

The year went on and one day, an old friend asked me for a session that I’d offered her over a year prior. When I read the email, I got full body chills. That, to me, is a sign that something sacred is at play. For weeks or even months, I didn’t know what that sacred thing was. 

We did the session and she saw and experienced my wisdom and skill at coaching and energy work. She had known me for a long time, but she was surprised by how far I’d come. She knew me when I was a school principal. Now, I am a woman who has been walking my soul path, clearing my trauma on all levels, honing my energy, and living in union with Spirit for many years. To say the least, I’m different than I used to be! 

She had been advising a local man who wanted to bring a big vision through. He was at an age appropriate for retiring, but he had one last major, albeit ideal, project he wanted to complete. She introduced me to him and he said that the conversation we had over tea was one of the most interesting conversations he’d had in a long time. 

What did we talk about? The Regenerative Feminine, applying concepts of resource sustainability and regeneration to women, the Heartland, the things I’d been channeling for the past three years connected to my ancestral connection to this region, and more. 

I started working with him. I took a job – at first a few hours a week, then up to a half time salary. After five years of entrepreneurship, I began investing my life force and energy into the community that he has built and wants to build. This has been a huge adjustment, and honestly, necessary. On a sovereignty path, it’s easier to be fully sovereign on your own. But the real work is in relationships, which this situation is teaching me in real time. 

As I visited this piece of land, thirty minutes south of Asheville where I’ve lived for many years, the Regenerative energies were immediately clear. In one of my first encounters with this land, in a vision she showed me “entangling” with her like in the movie Avatar when they’re about to ride those winged creatures and their hair intertwines. It was magical. 

My journey of becoming sovereign in my feminine resources, of clearing the shadow masculine & feminine from my own life, of knowing my value and worth, and the journey I’ve been walking since 2020 of the Heartland – the place beyond power and domination, the place of the Regenerative Feminine – has been long! In February of this year, a book proposal for Heartland received an Honorable Mention from HayHouse – the biggest publisher of spiritual books on the planet. Everything felt like it was getting closer to coming to fruition. This land seemed to tell me that there was nothing left to worry about. This land seemed to welcome me into a new kind of frequency. 

The process of establishing an exchange agreement based in sovereign energetics, that valued all of my resources – not just my time – was a big process. I’m not sure we got it completely correct, but I lived a process that was pretty cutting edge in that I advocated to get paid for feminine resources that our economic system historically overlooked. I look forward to helping other women and organizations in these kinds of fair-exchange conversations in future consulting work. 

Last week, I walked into the empty house on the property that my son and I would be moving into the next day. I wanted to do a deep energy clearing that I’d learned from Sarah Thomas years ago to purify the space for us. I did some work outside the house, too, to let the Spirits of the Land know that we intend to be in right-relationship with them. 

On the counter inside the kitchen was a freshly baked coffee cake from a woman who lives here, and a bouquet of flowers picked from the farm. I was greeted by two coworkers with hugs and celebration, and a fancy little note in the flowers said, “Welcome.” 

I’m writing this in my new dimly lit bedroom, two cats on the bed and a dog asleep on the floor, listening to the first rainstorm I’ve heard here. I live at the bottom of a spillway that looks like a waterfall, at the bottom of a lake, and I’ve heard that as the surface area of the lake collects extra water, the amount coming over the waterfall which is essentially in my front yard can become quite…. powerful. Flowing, forceful water, collecting in front of my home – so many feminine metaphors exist in this place.  

In Heartland, “saturation” is a frequency of the regenerative feminine. So is “pooling.” Saturation is when the particles of matter all become encoded with the connectivity of water, allowing for a transmission of regenerative current to spread through everything. Pooling is when resources collect and when a woman doesn’t have to keep moving in order to keep receiving, rather, she slows and allows her resources to pool – counter to patriarchal notions that tell her she must always be productive. 

I’m living at the bottom of the lake, where an abundant waterfall of water spills, slides over huge rocks, and pools in front of my deck. 

I am listening for Her messages. I am listening to this land. 

Less than a year after I set the intention, I am living in community. Not too hippy, not too idealistic. We’re building solutions for regenerative economics and each contributor’s resources will amplify. I get to bring my wisdom and energetics to this place. A few weeks ago, I lead five coworkers in an Earth-energy healing around a big Grandmother tree.  She showed me the vision the night before, how to involve the core team, and each step of the process. I invited them that morning, they came, we laid roses and co-created a land clearing. My 72 year old male “boss” included. 

So, it’s pretty cool. I’m grateful. My son gets here on Wednesday and he’ll have a summer job here this summer. People are asking about him and looking out for us both. As a single woman, responsible for parenting and the economic responsibilities of my family, I was tired of being a one-woman-show. I was tired of fierce entrepreneurship and fierce independence – ready instead for a little interdependence, a little more recognition of what we all need and require… belonging. 

Thanks for reading my update. This was Part I. I’ll send more soon. 

PS: My work isn’t going away. In fact, that’s kind of the point to repositioning my life in this way. It’s like I made an inner-masculine decision to put more stability in place in my life, as a woman and a parent, so that my life’s true work can come through. And I moved to a place where the point of the community is for each person’s true work to come through. 

Heartland 2023 is coming. Heartland is the place of the Regenerative Feminine. Join the waitlist HERE:

Saying the “R Word” triggered an old trauma. This is a soul story of choosing Unity over separation.

Acknowledging the truth of a trauma ultimately allows us to integrate more into our own wholeness. But the real-life path of this is messy. Trust me, I know.

It’s been a year since I said the R-word. I remember because today is 2/22 and I sent the letter right before this date last year, because I was going to the beach the weekend of 2/22 and I wanted it to be sent before the three days I’d spend beside the ocean. 

I hadn’t ever thought of it as the R-word. I’d said, “childhood abuse” and “sexual trauma” for years, but not the R-word. 

Once last year, a counselor and healer I’ve seen for fifteen years was talking to me about the work I do and is my purpose to do in the world, and she was saying how I take all these life experiences and alchemize them into something to offer for others. And she said encouragingly, “You’re not meant to talk directly about incest, you’re meant to talk about love and all the things you’ve found on the other side.”

I hadn’t ever said “incest” either. 

But then my sister got pregnant in 2021, with this baby that actually came to me three months before she was even pregnant, and it had said, “I’m coming, you have to tell her.” Yes, I’m talking about hearing from the Soul of the baby before it had incarnated. I heard it loud and clear, but I hadn’t spoken to my sister in a long time – nor my other sister or parents, and I waited to take action, wondering what exactly to do. Then, six months later, I found out that she was three months pregnant. I had stalled, and now it was time. 

I’d asked to speak with her, but likely knowing what it was about, she declined. I pressed  a bit, said I had to, and she drew a boundary. 

I started to panic, actually having the first panic attacks in years. In my apartment, I have a meditation cushion inside a walk-in closet and one day I was in there just panting and praying, “What to do?!” and the voice said, “Well, let’s start with breathing.” 

I was panicking because I couldn’t keep this child safe if she wouldn’t listen to me. And it was coming from the same deep-down knowing that came without words for all those years as a child that I wasn’t safe, and then the first years of my son’s life when I would keep him away from my father at all costs, because that was my instinct, but not ever directly saying why. The family just went on pretending like nothing was ever, nor had ever been, wrong, and that was why it had been such a mind fuck for decades about whether or not I was going to even believe myself. But why would your full and basic instinct be, “Keep the children away from your father” if that instinct wasn’t warranted? Don’t anyone dare try to negate or explain away that rhetorical question. 

There was a fierceness that arose after the panic attack in the closet. If I had to drive ten hours and knock on her door, I’d do it. I was going to do whatever was needed. But then, I was in a session with a practitioner about what was happening, and afterward I knew what I needed to do. I didn’t need to drive to her house, I needed to expose this. It was almost a blessing that she wouldn’t listen, because if she had, then this silenced, festering thing would just stay among two women and still be protected. I had to expose the truth the whole way. 

It was a knowing, a deep-down, clear as day knowing, the feeling I get when there is not another way forward. 

I’d known since I was fifteen that something had happened to me. When I had my first boyfriend, memories came back, and clearly. But I don’t remember what exactly they were, because when I confided in my mother at that time, she told me not to be silly. I remember the day. It was summer time and she was driving and I remember her stoic face, looking forward focused on the road, telling me not to be silly. To say it more clearly, I told her that my father had sexually abused me, and her response was, “Don’t be silly.” 

And so I spent about fifteen years trying not to be silly. 

My mother says she doesn’t remember me ever telling her that. This is called “dissociation” and my mother has it. Big time. Because in the years that I’ve been uncovering and honoring the truth of what had happened to me and to my family back through the generations, for the purpose of healing, I have tried to sit and talk to my mother. I’ve asked her to sit on Zoom so that I could see her eyes and expression as I asked her questions. She denied ever knowing, or ever remembering me telling her, and yet, when I finally said the R-word, nothing changed then either. 

This showed me that I was right all along. It’s an incredible thing to try to reconcile or even wrap one’s head around – that your mother may have known and didn’t protect you. That you were somehow her sacrificial lamb. It’s almost impossible to fathom, and I’ve been grateful to women like Eve Ensler over the years who named such choices of some mothers – to ignore the thing that would have to tear a family apart if acknowledged, in order to secure one’s own resources by acting as if nothing had ever happened. “Don’t be silly,” she’d said, as she discounted the thing she didn’t want to look at. 

I spent my twenties in a codependent relationship with one man, which was a way my psyche sought safety because both he and I knew that I’d been abused, but within the relationship, we could deal with it. I spent my thirties reclaiming my body from trauma patterns, reclaiming the truth and my power, reclaiming the health of the gut with “inexplicable” lifelong stomach pains and trouble digesting. Reclaiming, reclaiming, reclaiming.  I had the worst digestive issues when intimacy with a new man would become a possibility. I learned to identify how I was overriding trauma symptoms and entering relationships with men too quickly, and I learned how and why I was attracted to men who seemed to love me but then would discard of me – not surprising since my father stopped talking to me long before I said the R-word, but when I stopped taking his money and removed myself from the power dynamics. 

When I gave my TEDx and started telling even a little bit of the truth that had been kept behind the curtain, I lost contact with them more and more. I always had the sense that owning the truth would mean losing them. It did, and I knew I had to keep choosing my path. I also knew that to exist within the family unit meant to participate in a great pretending. I instinctively knew this, but I had no idea how right I was. 

I spent years reclaiming my ability to tell my own truth, and to even use my voice, as it had been stuck in my throat for so many years. I spent over a decade in various therapies trying to figure out my trauma-ridden brain and its sense of enoughness, lovability, worthiness, and just where all of the tendrils of coercion and abuse had reached. It was an extensive search. And a maddening one. Eventually this coincided with a rich spiritual, sacred journey as well. 

In 2020, I wrote and delivered an original monologue for the classic Vagina Monologues V-Day event on two stages in Asheville about the sins of the Father (double entendre) and the hidden abuses in the church. Because the R-action had actually occurred at least once in a church. IN the church. I was under five, and he broke me, on purpose. Very much on purpose. 

He was raised in a satanic cult as a child. No one in my family talks about this, nor do they really know – another reason I’ve stayed kind-of quiet. My deep spiritual journey whereupon I asked questions such as “Why does patriarchy and separation even exist in the first place?” had lead me to actually discover the truth of the S R A in 2019. History explained through good vs. evil and the systemic mechanisms of keeping people away from unity and a unified Source – the S R A has been very instrumental in that. 

And then I found out that it had infiltrated my family lineage, and that my father had been affected very, very directly and personally. Isn’t it amazing how life just lines up the pieces for you to discover the truth of who you really are? I had been healing trauma for over seven years at that point and was living a life committed to the journey of the soul when I found this out. In the beginning, I wouldn’t have been equipped to handle the news. In fact, I spent about a year even integrating what this even meant. It explained so much, and yet, now I knew the tendrils went much, much deeper. Because if he had been raised in a cult, then he had also raised me with cult-like mind control and tendencies of coercion, abuse, and soul-breaking. I knew a lot about trauma at that point and began trying to wrap my head around the potential effects of intergenerational trauma from cult abuse, let alone sa ta nic rit ual cult abuse. Most people dismiss that this even exists, because it is so hard to accept and because it involves far more people and people in power than anyone wants you to know, and I found one psychiatric doctor who validates patients who have these stories. He was too busy to talk with me about my intergenerational curiosities. 

I was raised by a man who was raised in the most horrific circumstances, who witnessed brutal, indescribable things. The worst of human behavior. They broke him. And he never had the therapies, the trauma interventions, the parenting classes, or anything that would prevent him from passing on what he had learned, and from using the cult tactics on his family. He’d married a teacher and I was their first born daughter. He had the devil inside of him and I know he wanted to do well also, because he spent a lot of time in church, gave a lot of money to charity, and tried to give us a good and prosperous life. So we didn’t talk about the devilish parts, because my mother wanted the white house on the suburban street with the photos of a normal family in frames in the stairwell. So she kept it looking good and we didn’t talk about his episodes. In the same “don’t be silly” strategy, she’d go on serving dinner if there had just been a fight or if he had disappeared again and she didn’t know where her husband was.

My body was always confused about what it felt and sensed, the inexplicable fears and digestive issues, the fierce rebellion I felt. And as an adult, I spent many years breaking free – slowly at first, and then fiercely as if my life depended on it, and then, just when I thought I was pretty regulated about it all, this letter had to be written and that sent an unexpected fire alarm to my brain. Fuck if it doesn’t take so much longer to heal than you think it will. Even after years of reclamation, and teaching other women to reclaim their voice and truth from patriarchal traumas and silence, I wasn’t exempt from a deeply embedded trauma reaction, probably in response to a deep threat made long ago about what might happen if I ever told. No doubt, and I remember many such incidents now, it was a threat on my life. 

I sent the letter it to everyone in my family my generation and above. I sent it to the parents of the daughter I’d placed for adoption at birth. I said, “He raped me.” I said, “I believe she knew about it.” I said, “Do not leave children in their presence.” I did not feel fear when I sent it, I felt clarity. I knew it had to be done, and I would do it a thousand times over so that the lineage of secrecy and child abuse stop. And it did. It feels a bit, in hindsight, like willingly stepping in front of a train that has been picking up cargo and momentum for a very long time. Thankfully, I suppose I was strong enough at that point to not even realize the personal risk. That train just had to stop. 

My aunt wrote me a card with hand-drawn heart balloons that said how sorry she was that she hadn’t known and didn’t protect me as a child. I heard from my cousin, “My mom believes you….” and then the trailing off of that sentence made me realize that others didn’t. 

Oh. Well, I suppose denial is a strategy that’s been at play for a long time, so I wasn’t necessarily surprised that they just “opted out” of believing me. I’m not necessarily offended by this, but I also have no time or tolerance for it. Some never reached out at all. 

The letter did elicit a reply from my sister and we scheduled a phone call. While she wouldn’t directly talk about it, I was able to ask her a series of yes/no questions such that I finally understood that she understood me, and that this child would be protected. That’s all I cared about. This was the first grandchild born into the family since my son thirteen years prior. I’d protected my children but I wasn’t going to be there to directly ensure the safety of my niece or nephew. 

But then interesting things happened. The sex I was having with a partner began to feel rammy at best. I didn’t feel his heart and I felt a lot of his anxiety in the sex. Because he struggled with erectile dysfunction, I tried to be loving and kind, and yet the sex was not connected enough for me. I tried to work with him through it – always the coach, always the one to see some soul-potential and hope they walk through that door, always the one to give too much or stay too long. (Former habits, I’m now happy to say.) Eventually he stopped trying to find access to his heart by ramming himself into my vagina and he left. Not great timing in the grand scheme of things. Ram-ram-goodbye as a pattern was a significant trigger for me, and it contributed toward a… well, a breakage of sorts. A deep heartbreak occurred from it all. It was all too much. 

My family was so far gone. I still haven’t met my nephew. My other sister is pretty much best friends with my parents, and no one acts like I ever said rape. My grandmother served him Thanksgiving dinner and my mother sat beside him, which I was surprised to find was another hit to my heart. I didn’t know that I’d care about the added layers of loss and I didn’t see them coming. 

I had always been the strong one. I was resilient, strong, ran on adrenaline when I had to. In my years of deep reclamation that felt like survival and liberation both, I got a lot of black tattoos. At first, I got big black flowers on my shoulder blades and around my shoulders, and then realized that I’d subconsciously given myself self-protective armor. So I got more tattoos down my arms so it didn’t look so much like armor, but I did look like a badass. I was frequently called a badass. 

People have told me things like: they assume I’m always fine, they assume I am always able to make money, they assume I don’t need anything because I don’t ask, that I’m always strong. Because that’s how I learned to be. I learned from my mother to pretend like everything was under control even when it wasn’t. I’m writing these things in retrospect, as I realized them while looking in a really authentic mirror this year. 

This year, amidst all of this, the most beautiful things also happened. I went so deeply into the gaping hole of unlovability that I felt – a foundation that had been set long ago – and there I sat, not self-abandoning. My friend Audrey recognized where I was and sent me homeopathic potions and love notes for support. I did the emotional freedom technique, hiked in the woods in the mornings with my dog, treated my body with care, and increased my nutrition – every day. I did parasite cleanses, enemas, kundalini yoga, EMDR, energy healing and more. These are a few of my favorite things to get free of abuse frequencies and lingering wtf cult mind control programming. 

I aligned with Source. I partnered with the Divine. I healed with the Earth and with the earth grids. I lived Heartland – this work that I began calling “my dharma” during this time. I was pissed I wasn’t finishing writing a book and it felt like an eight-month set back in the journey. Of course it wasn’t. 

I deeply cared for myself differently than I ever had. I wasn’t surviving anymore. I was loving myself and wanting to know how I felt truly free and beyond what had been. I stopped being defined – energetically and otherwise – as the one who this had happened to. It was done. 

I found myself in an uncharted place – the territory of my true heart. It was messy and pure. I took down the guards and learned more deeply how to have clarity about what gets my resources without having to defend myself. As a result of childhood abuse, including emotional and though it’s an overused word, narcissistic abuse, I had a habit of giving myself to things in hopes that I’d be valued after the fact. This resulted in habits of over-giving or what I call “giving to get” which are both unsustainable and inauthentic. I believe I have learned authentic love, and what do you know, straight through the authentic portal of my own heart as the pathway to God. 

During this time, my business both financially failed and there was a wisdom to allow it to disassemble its previous structure in order to be rebuilt on different energetics. Even though I have had (before this year?) a knack for holding things together and making it look like I was successful, after the letter and the rammy sex trigger, my money stopped flowing. Spiritual people say, “You’ll always have what you need.” Well, I didn’t. And I also couldn’t push myself to “sell” anything anymore because I just wanted to do things authentically, with people who wanted the same. So I let go. There are different energetics at play regarding money when you have had this kind of trauma, which I now understand better and am devoted to helping women get free. Rape trauma, combined with psychological trauma around safety and money, is a different beast that is not going to be easily overcome with positive thoughts or affirmations. It is way, way more than that and getting through it, I have found, requires focus and devotion. I couldn’t beat this before when I’d tried toughness or resiliency or manifestation techniques or spirituality alone. It has required a daily grit inside of a daily love inside of a daily faith. This I will share in Heartland – we have to be able to clear the residual trauma energetics that steal our life force and make it difficult to secure or hold money, and we get to be prosperous in our own Source-Alignment. Our Soul is enough. In fact, it’s so powerful that that is why we were harmed to begin with – to make us forget. 

My father had used money to manipulate my compliance in more fucked-up ways than I can even figure out, and so my psyche never wanted to need help, but this past year I did. I had the opportunity to really undo patterns of both believing I needed the rescue while simultaneously fearing it, learning that to receive help was safe, and doing the soul work of trusting that my business, finances and psyche were all likely perfectly reorganizing themselves in tandem with the divine. But it was a mess and I had to face the fears I thought were long-past about having enough and being supported. Hint: it comes from within. The more aligned I am to my authentic frequency, sacredness, creativity and soul, the more fulfilling and resourced it all gets. 

The other thing that happened was that I became far more loving and graceful, and this continues. My business became a ministry. My membership stopped being an aspect of a sales funnel and instead a joyful community with growing purpose and cohesion. I stopped sharing unless I really had something to say. I started creating again – like, real, soul-activating, right brain electrifying, eros-derived creativity. I’m still diving into that, most recently with a frame drum. On all those walks in the woods, I was more and more deeply activated into gridwork, earth relationship, my divine sight, and how the fucked up earthly circumstances are all part of the bigger invitation to return to love. I deeply realized the human need for belonging, on the other side of all of that fierce independence, leadership and resiliency. I need connection and belonging. I need it still. 

I have known for years that I was walking a “soul journey” that I was then meant to share back, but I took a break in that. I didn’t know if I was done or broken or unmoved or what, but I honored the time to go inward and had no idea when or if I’d come out. And what I want to say about this space is that it is a holy mess. It is a holy becoming, like a caterpillar in a chrysalis, at the risk of sounding cliche. I’ve known that I’m on this walk that quests, “What does Union actually look like in this lifetime?” and yet, actually exiting the matrix reality of “I was violated by my father and it didn’t stop there” is a wild ride in the lived experience. It is a story of separation, for certain. I call finding our way through these 3D “realities” in a separation matrix and then allowing ourselves to choose love, to be who we landed on earth to become, the Sacred Remembering path. 

Maybe it was the reality of losing family seemingly once and for all last year, or maybe it was a little invisible string in my brain, implanted long ago by an old, satanic threat, that got pulled when I spoke out that said, “If you say this, you will be killed and the people you love will be killed.” Maybe it was the pattern of abandonment showing up again from men. I didn’t realize what had happened as it was happening, but my brain just got stuck.  I just did the best I could do to love myself in the day to day. 

And then Spirit pulled me forward. My friend Lisa began walking beside me daily on the spiritual path helping to activate me toward strength and an integrated high-heart and monad. My kundalini yoga practice became a daily practice as I watched my brain changing for the better, clearing the fog and patterning of mind control. At the turn of this year, my soul said, “Enough EMDR, enough therapy and trying to figure it out, look forward.” Special miracles happened. I heard Spirit say, “It is done.” I heard the guidance, “Go beyond your Earthly parents and realize that you are a child of the Divine.” When I said yes to that, I realized something new called the Holy Daughter Template, which is more divine information about the feminine beyond patriarchy and what this actually feels like. 

So why am I writing this? 

Well, it’s 2/22 and something in me said to do it. I realized that I subconsciously pulled the red shirt out of my closet that I’d worn for our Sovereign Womb Ceremony on 2/22/22 where over 80 women and men joined for the remembrance of the sovereign feminine before the Fall of Lyra – before separation. I’d sent the letter right before that ceremony, and then something in me committed as I led the ceremony, and as I stood on the beach in the following days, something in me knew to open Heartland again for a group of women, which I did. 

Spirit’s always there. 

The soul is always trying to integrate truth, light, and wholeness. 

Life is always life and then it is so much more. 

Was there a turning point? If I had to say that there was one, it was realizing (again) that what the destroyer energy of domination, patriarchy, and control does is to interrupt love, to try to destroy it, and to separate union. It is the greatest pain I can imagine, and I’ve felt it very deeply in this lifetime and countless others. My heart has been working some deep, deep alchemy in recent years to heal the pain of separation. To say that it’s hard sometimes is an understatement. 

To be resilient in the nervous system is not enough. It is not enough to fight these forces of separation, and to fight them only exhausts you.  It requires an epic re-connection to Source, a re-devotion of the entire soul, and to source strength from Source. Otherwise, and I know from experience, one will be knocked down, again and again, in an attempt to stop Union from happening. I don’t doubt that they especially seek to attack those who carry the light of the Christos Sophia, those of us on the Unity team. It is absolutely true, and we have to be strong through Union, through Source. 

To name the truth to keep the next generation of children safe (and yes the lineage lines were cleared, and yes it was worth it), I ended up experiencing more separation than I’d ever known to expect. With the end of another relationship that borderline triggered my sexual trauma and all the way triggered the pain of unlovability, I got to alchemize the pain and know the heart and love in a new and reclaimed way, and to know the Beloved beyond form.  

And then I realized – the pain of separation is how the bad guys win. It’s their whole, cowardly gig. And so I choose love. I choose to move beyond the energetics of separation, and I choose to remember the frequency of pure love and try to live inside the integrity of that as many moments of the day as I can remember to do so. More and more, I touch the spaces beyond separation. My gut is healing another layer of tension that I recently discovered. My mood and my blood sugar don’t tank anymore. I’m calmer. I don’t get as caught up in triggers and I re-Source back to the Divine.  My nervous system is pretty regulated thanks to Kundalini yoga. My mind is strong and beyond gads and gads of mental programming that I didn’t even see until I was ready to go beyond it. 

I will never again feel shame or silence about my past, I will hold it like sacred, swaddled truth, and I will create with it, because of it, because of it all. I will no longer live in separation. 

I’ve said this so many times in my work, and I have to remember it myself – this year being one big example. In the old template of separation, we orient and operate as women in response and reactivity to external masculine. If we are living our lives watching what patriarchy is doing, watching what men are doing and protecting ourselves from how they might take from us, we are living in response to the perpetrator. Any real-life perpetrator can be long gone from your life and the remnants still there. Isn’t that just how the evil works? Controlling you long after they are gone. When we orient to that, we define ourself as “the child who was raped,” “the woman who has endured trauma,” and so on. We become defined in the fight against it. But there is another freedom and another template altogether, when we realize and leave that all behind. When we set it free, and remember it is Union that we came for and Union that we ARE. 

It’s been a year. And that’s enough. I am sacred, I am sovereign, I am free. I am the child of the divine. My creation doesn’t depend on the external, rather my womb creates with the light of God. 

I am the Holy Daughter. I am love. I AM.  

*** Blessing this space within the love of the Unified Field and within the clear and sacred grids of Gaia.*** 

How a woman heals her relationship to the masculine.

Healing the relationship with the inner & divine masculine is the foundation of our own inner safety, provision, space holding, and discernment.

Last weekend, while hiking in the very cold woods with my pup, I listened to an interview I did with Artemis Rose for her Embody U Podcast. She asked me to come on her show and talk about how a woman heals her relationship to the masculine.

I actually really love this topic. As she says, it’s not talked about enough. But, I do think that it is some of the most crucial work a woman will ever do on herself.

Women often want something from men and judge men for not being able to give it to them.

Or, we spend a lot of time and energy looking for a man that embodies certain characteristics.

No doubt, we are doing what’s called “projecting” our inner, unmet needs of the masculine onto men. It’s very common to do that in our culture, especially as women have been oppressed as a gender for a long time. In the psyches of women, we are very hungry to know and be in relationship with the “sacred masculine.” But what does that mean?

It starts within.

Listen to the episode HERE. This is an important transmission.

Artemis writes, “In today’s episode, Sarah dives deep into a discussion around healing our relationship with the masculine (our own inner masculine, men, and our relationship with God).

How do all of these relate to embodying who we truly are? How does this relate to the feminine? You must listen. She does a beautiful job of simplifying, defining, and articulating how our sacred remembrance rests on the Truth of us diving deep within to reclaim both the sacred feminine and masculine for our own homecoming and inner union.

However, in this episode, she focuses on how important it is to see our relationship with God and our inner masculine as being the foundation and sustenance of our own inner safety, provision, space holding, and discernment.”

To access the Modern Women’s Pathway to Feminine / Masculine Reunification, CLICK HERE.