reclaiming my voice

on empowerment and spiritual growth

dancing with wolf

This last Friday evening, under the rising pull of the full moon in Aquarius, there was beautiful drumming, candlelight which filled the space, inebriant incense and offerings. I danced with my she-Wolf, allowing for joy, connection, healing and learning. Not in abstraction but with a clear, specific intention; not for vague abundance, but for a sense of direction, and with enough freedom of movement and the right tools to deepen my path: crystals, books, train rides to my woods and my waters. That was the question I laid before her. There was howling, and more dancing, and an ecstatic sense of deep connection. With my heart full, I went to bed. The answer, whether I liked the form it took or not, came swiftly. The universe returned the resource.

dreams that reveal truths

Her energy followed me into my dreams. I walked into one of those well-known YouTube gurus’ houses, all white and silver, polished on the surface, but messy underneath, a place where refinement was only performative. A pretentious auction played out on the top floor: men in blue blazers with large glasses of red wine and insipid laughter; downstairs, in the kitchen, she talks endlessly, sitting in front of me and folding baby clothes, keeping me in this infantilised role with her patronising and conceited attitude. Three hours later, I found myself in one of my exes’ house: messier still, surrounded by his three immature friends, exposing themselves and filming it. Everything felt crude, chaotic: a distraction and degradation of focus. At the entrance gravel and a shovel, and a black thick rubber matt where flies are laying eggs. Even if his presence still carried attraction and kindness, and his message clear [don’t you think it’s time you learn to ride a horse?] the environment itself was off.

the vanishing

I woke up somehow confused. Then, a ping of an email. No conversation. No exchange. No warning. I have been removed from the shamanic course. My account closed. My payment refunded.

learning to walk the liminal path

In many traditional shamanic cultures, this is a form of severance or casting out. Whether intentional or unconscious on the part of those in authority, being cut off from a lineage or group is a profound rupture. For those unprepared, it can feel like a psychic attack, an abrupt and painful exile. The loss of a tribe. However, within these traditions, early expulsion serves a deeper initiatory function. It is part of a winnowing process that separates those who will continue alone, forging a direct and unmediated relationship with their helping spirits. Hence, freed from institutional structures, these initiates are compelled to anchor their power internally and develop a more personal, authentic practice.

This psychic rupture marks the moment when one is no longer protected or defined by the group’s container. Spiritually, this destabilisation is essential: it loosens attachment to the old framework, forcing a break from the safe but ultimately limiting structure. Without such rupture, one risks remaining indefinitely confined in a path that is not truly one’s own.

The irony [the cosmic joke common in shamanic journeys] is that the spirit world often answers literally rather than politely. The teaching is direct, uncompromising, and impossible to ignore.

the petulant child

Still, I am not living among members of a tribe in the middle of some forgotten faraway jungle; I am not pubescent and aware that some form of casting out is bound to be performed, or some metaphorical threshold overstepped. I wasn’t prepared by Koro for the task of recovering the rei puta thrown into the ocean, to prove my worthiness of becoming a leader.

This expulsion was unilateral, executed without dialogue or chance for exchange. This was a raw exercise of power: stripping away my agency in a way no educator, teacher, course leader or therapist [whether still practising or not] should ever do. The approach was dismissive and controlling. It was cheap, petty and shabby. It was as if someone yanked me out of my ex’s chaotic house before I could clean it up, deciding I didn’t belong, and without a single word of conversation.

The child has a tantrum.

Don’t get me wrong: the lack of dialogue wasn’t an oversight; it was a thought-out power move. Choosing action before speech denies any chance to explain, clarify, or negotiate. This is ghosting, done to avoid difficult conversations, any reactions from the other person, and to escape feelings of distress and emotional exposure. In any genuine teaching or therapeutic relationship [and in any adult relationship, to be honest], even difficult feedback and ending come with room to respond. Here, silence closed the door on Relationship itself.

Pre-emptive severing was made concrete by refunding and closing the account simultaneously: the “decision has been made for you” dynamic. It is paternalistic and authoritarian, disguised as generosity: “Look, how virtuous I am because I’m giving you your money back as a gesture of goodwill.” But the real message is control. I shouldn't complain, now; should I? The feeling that independence and critical thought posed a threat to fragile authority is not just suspicion: my experience, knowledge and autonomy [packaged as my blogging] did unsettle a system of teaching that is used to compliance, revealing insecurity behind the mask of power.

The child collects all his toys and leaves.

I didn’t get kicked out: I got pulled from the classroom and into the paddock, with my she-Wolf at my side and a Horse waiting to be ridden. The man-with-keys of my first vision already unlocked this path. Now it’s simply time to mount. Of which I am grateful.

Still, it’s sad when authority acts from defensiveness, especially when met with openness and respect. This closing of a door limits growth on both sides, but some cannot hold space for complexity or discomfort. The ones who can stay present and hold tension fully… those are the companions for my journey!

This hypocrisy of preaching ethics and high standards while flagrantly violating educational, ethical and therapeutic codes is a sharp mirror reflecting someone’s failings and the fragility of a specific kind of authority. But naming that gap between rhetoric and action, that is my power! They were not just taking my presence or participation; they tried to steal my narrative, my voice, my knowledge, and my agency. Remember: my voice remains mine alone, and what’s left is to reclaim it by grounding in my truth and boundaries. This void invites me to fill it with strength, clarity, and uncompromised storytelling.

No one gets - ever - to erase my presence or diminish my story without accountability.

finding strength beyond authority

Right now, I must recognise:

- Wolf is still here: my constant companion and guide;

- I haven’t lost the work I’ve done;

- This or any course was never the source of my power; it was merely a scaffold. Beneath it, I have already been building my own structure.

In traditional initiatory terms, I stand in liminality: the in-between place I know so well. I’m no longer who I was, but not yet who I will become. I know: this is the dangerous and uncharted phase where the initiate learns to navigate without old certainties. My situation reflects this perfectly: suddenly outside the tribe, unsure where to turn, but still holding Wolf, my practices, and my vision. I am walking between worlds: no longer a “student in the school,” not yet whatever comes next.

This phase brought tests from both the spirit and mundane worlds. The 12 teenagers, the strange dream imagery, the usual daily worries: each probe whether I can hold my centre without an external guide. Spiritually, this stripping away of external authority forces me back into a direct relationship with my spirit allies, instincts, and personal ethics. It’s where shadow work gets real: old fears, doubts, and patterns surface. This means fully reclaiming my agency. I am no longer a passive recipient but an active participant and co-creator of my journey and healing. The “rescuer” is not some external figure; it is the combination of my inner strength, my bond with my power animal, and my ongoing commitment to the work. This is not a passive / reactive rescue, either. It demands my engagement: showing up, facing fear, acting with intention and discipline. Empowerment lives in doing, sustained by a deep trust that I am never truly alone in the process.

Writing this blog is more than calling out what happened. It’s reclaiming my power, my narrative, and my voice on my terms. It transforms an attempt to silence me into a statement of strength and clarity.

This act of writing, here and now, becomes both boundary and declaration:

no one gets - ever - to erase my presence or diminish my story without accountability.

I am not just regaining my voice. I am amplifying it.

This is exactly what this moment calls for.

onwards + upwards,

mx