Honouring my twin brother Graham, returning him to the Great Mother

The passion and love of a heartbeat so sweet
Two souls entwined, tenderly meet
Embracing life, nourished together
United, excited, a bond that’s forever

Lying here in my bed, I softly return to this place
Surrender my flesh to our liminal space
I close my eyes, easily feel your presence
The expanse of the cosmos, caressing your essence


Today is my birthday, the day I was born.  Today is the 63rd anniversary of the day you didn’t make it.  My birthday and your death both rolled into one.   It’s been taboo until now.  Nothing made any sense.  This day for me has always been a torture yet I never knew why.   A day of pretence.  The day I incarnated into hell on earth.  The day I made it without you. 

As I share these words I’m welling up.  62 birthdays.  Now another one to tick off and pretend that it’s a celebration.  Today I will do it differently.  Today I will walk to the tiny grave I made for you under the statue of Magdalene.  Today I will be present with this truth.  The truth that everyone chose to ignore including me.  The truth that exists in every cell of my body.  The ache and sorrow, the holy brokenness that resides. 

My beloved twin.  My brother.  I have no words.  I have no energy to explain what took place. All those birthdays without you at my side.  All those missed memories holding your hand.  Sharing adventures.  Supporting each other. So much heart ache.  Grief backed up like a dam. Wanting to come home to be with you.  Finding it so hard to be here in this body, on Earth.  Finally stopping the pretence.  Coming home to myself.  To my truth as it is now.  This reality, this loss without you. 

One day soon we will be together again.  One day soon I will hold your hand and know I am home again.  Complete.  This earth plane is so brutal, so unrelenting.  I miss you bro.  So much.  It’s been so lonely here, so unbearable.    I am holding your hand today.  Across the heart waves.   Understanding why it’s so painful on this day. More at peace allowing what is.  Allowing myself to cry, to feel you, to celebrate our union.

Yesterday I was in resistance, praying that today, my birthday would not come. Wanting to run away so badly.  I didn’t know why.  It’s clearer now.  My little one was screaming, raging inside saying ‘no I don’t want another birthday, I hate them, I’m terrified of how I feel, so alone, so heart broken’.  Last night,  I prayed the Rosary Prayer, beseeched Magdalene, the floodgates  opened, my heart softened.  I wept for hours.  I had closed my heart, the pain was too great. Repeated betrayals, your loss was the worst.  The deepest wound I could not reconcile. 

Now I have turned inside, to the tiny, fragile foetus  this one that knows and remembers.  I am honouring her for all she endured. Honouring her pain, allowing her rage and drenched tears.  For the terrifying experience of birthing into her reality here without you, with no protection, exposed and alone.  Honouring the soul,  stark choice I made on the other side,  to go through such experiences of loss together with the brainwashing and ‘take over’ but this time, allowing the human feelings too.  

I am an elder now. An ascended master in training.   I know we are not really separate.  It’s an illusion and my choice now is what matters.  I’m strong enough to hold all that arises, all the polarities.  I can be with intensity and choose to not push it away.  I can honour all the experience, all the feelings.  Give up the resistance.   Stop pretending to please others and allow ‘what is’. 

My birthday.  Your funeral.  To really honour this reality, not play lip service to it.  The day I lived, the day you did not.  I can dare to face this reality now, to feel the depths of feelings pent up inside.  One breath after the other.   Alone.  Holding this tender part of me so closely as she wails for her beloved brother.  As I honour her wretched experience of endless,  miserable birthdays,  devoid of love.  Helping her finally to be with the inconsolable grief and ending. 

For her,  birthdays are tragic.  This is a stark reality that needs to be included now.  She was never held through the shock, never helped to manage the loss.  It’s time for me to be holding her, to help her through.  I can do this now.  It doesn’t matter that no-one ever told the truth or honoured what happened.  It doesn’t matter that no-one else understands or negates our experience.  My body does not lie.  Self compassion is the key.  It’s time for me  to hold her now.  I couldn’t do it before. 

Now today on my birthday I’m present.  I am committed to honour my little one each morning on waking, especially today, holding Ruggles our teddy bear and when she needs, to read her stories of Paddington Bear.  I will hold her each day as we wake to another day without you and bravely make a choice to live fully,  even without you at our side.  Not to forget you.  Not to suppress you. Not to pretend for everyone else.   To be here with both realities of life and death, not one or the other. 

Today I honour both my birthday and your funeral. Not just two words but the enormity of what this entails.  I will not brush over it and play games anymore.  Until now, I couldn’t integrate my heart and womb together, to feel the ferocity of my torturous feelings.  Today,  I hold you my dear brother in my heart and feel the unbearable sorrow that is always there and…… I breathe deeply and  choose to fully honour this life as well.  I may be happy.  I may be sad.  It is all welcome.  I’m done with being the walking dead, this is over.   Finally, I am gentle with myself with all that is here.  Today especially.  

Thank you little Hilary for helping me return to you, to be the loving parent you never had.  Thank you for the depths of your tenderness, the pure love and the receptivity and wisdom of the sacred feminine.  Thank you sweet brother for helping me open my heart and allow grief to soften and tenderise me.  Thank you for inducting in me the truth of the sacred masculine, for the strong presence that is anchored in me always by my gnosis of you.  The Christ/Christa beloveds that resides in my own heart and womb together, this sacred marriage that is you, that is me.    

Thank you Magdalene for teaching me The Way of Compassion, the Way of the Rose.  Thank you for helping me return to my innocent heart, to be kinder to everything that arises, to allow my womb wisdom and to bring everything back to the crucible of my heart.  

To transform, to transmute and to transcend,  The three T’s. ​