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Aug 01 – Aug 07, 2019
Teotihuacan, Mexico

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Musings of an Awakening Spirit

Stories, poetry & general musings of Rebecca Haywood, a modern-day Shaman with a penchant for bringing the divine into the human experience.

A Comedic Lesson in Humility

A Comedic Lesson in Humility
The moon has been showing a sliver of a smile—crooked, like she’s up to some mischief. So I thought it time to share another side of my death process—the lighter side of the dark side—and the laughter that often joins my tears in a full-bellied, full spectrum rainbow of emotions. Death can offer quite the feast if we let Her and She has a great sense of humor—one that, like most comedy, bares...
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Gifts for the Ghost

Gifts for the Ghost
“Gifts for the Ghost” is a series of videos that offer a set of tools and practices for healing trauma or any psychosomatic imbalance. And it’s FREE! No need to even subscribe to my newsletter. They truly are my gift to you which I am so happy to offer. 💝Each video is posted here, plus an introductory article on "Emotional Presence"... Welcome to Gifts for the Ghost,A set of tools and practices for...
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Shameless Feminine

Shameless Feminine
“Shameless Feminine” Beloved, I come to you now,Pulled by your sleeping scarlet dreams,Your flowers of yearning,Your earth’s turning, That I may reach into this vessel —Beyond feast of ghost and Pain possessing pleasure— And bend my love into you, Become your trestle, Till you rise upon my kisses And your light breaks only into dawn— Never a slave To their empty grave No more. - Rh
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Forgiveness: An Act of Self-Love

Forgiveness: An Act of Self-Love
"Forgiveness sheds the bones of yesterday and bares her naked soul to the light of today." Having been raped multiple times in my life, I have a lot of experience with forgiveness. I held onto my anger and pain as if they would protect me from further trespasses when in truth, I was held by them and by my wounded memories which had become my greatest perpetrator. I was in purgatory, afraid to...
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Healing Our Wounded Inheritance

Healing Our Wounded Inheritance
The blankets of the sweat lodge had begun to move with the cool breeze of the desert night, bringing my awareness back to my body.  I lay there in the darkness alone; the ground wet with the steam of sage and copal.  I was in the primordial mud; in the stillness of the beginning of it all.   The Temazcal, once filled with song and prayer, had carried me to a deep place...
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