🪷 Brahma’s Awakening 🌙

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[brahmasawakening]

The day following my retreat into the sacred forests where Ishtar and Ishara’s energies resided in years past held even more promise.

This place was somewhere I had only been once before briefly to see where the main trail led. I had not explored the full range of the forests to their extent yet. Today, I would.

There was a sense of quiet anticipation as I arrived that morning, the sun still low and veiled behind fog. The forest greeted me not with sound, but with a kind of living silence: dense, aware, waiting. Each step forward felt like a conversation, a negotiation between my presence and its memory.

I could feel the pulse of the land here, slower and older than the rhythm of my heart. The trees seemed to hum faintly beneath the wind. That’s when I heard it, or rather… felt it. A doe maybe 30 meters away from me.

A doe, maybe thirty meters away, moving through the brush with a grace so fluid it seemed part of the wind itself. She had not yet noticed me. I managed to silently creep closer until we were 20 meters apart before I froze where I stood, lowering my breath until it matched the rhythm of the forest. For a moment, the world narrowed to her gentle presence: the sound of her hooves pressing softly into the damp soil, the flick of her ears, the shimmer of light across her stark white tail.

Time seemed to suspend itself there between us. The air was heavy with a kind of sacred stillness; the kind that exists only when two beings recognize each other beyond the veil of form. She lifted her head at last, her eyes meeting mine through the lattice of branches and filtered light.

And for a brief moment, the world stopped.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. And before I could recognize what was happening, she began to stomp and huff at me: warning, a boundary drawn between our worlds. Then, with a flick of her tail, she vanished into the valley below, swallowed whole by shadow and green.

The forest was utterly still again. Yet her presence lingered, echoing faintly in the rhythm of the wind and the pulse beneath my feet. It was as though she had left something behind; not a sign, but a feeling. Guidance. Permission. A door opened just enough for me to glimpse what lay beyond, before closing once more.

Deeper within the forest, I found a small alcove with a mysterious well tucked beneath the mossy bed of greenery. The air here was cool and thick with age, the kind that carries whispers of memory. The stones of the well were weathered smooth, cool to the touch and incredibly receptive.

I spent some time exploring its surroundings before settling atop the great stone well and beginning to meditate. What followed has changed my perspective on meditation at large.

At first, it was like any other session: the slow unwinding of breath, the soft hum of awareness spreading through my body. But as I sank deeper, the world around me began to fade until there was nothing but a rhythm; my pulse and the faint resonant thrum of the forest’s own heartbeat.

Then something shifted. The boundaries between the two began to blur. I could feel the blood moving through my body as if it were warm light. Pulsing, expanding, returning. The sound of my heartbeat wasn’t confined to my chest anymore; it reverberated through the ground beneath me, through the trees and stones and the unseen waters below.

For a moment, I wasn’t meditating in the forest… I was the forest. My breath was the wind through the canopy. My pulse, the quiet energetic current flowing beneath the soil.

This space frankly terrified me at first. I had never experienced anything like it before; that complete dissolution of self, the merging with something vast and unseen. It felt as though I had stepped beyond the edges of what my body was meant to contain.

But as I became acquainted with the stillness, with the space both within and around me, the fear began to soften. I could feel the shifting energetic bodies moving through the forest. Subtle currents brushing against my awareness like unseen creatures circling the perimeter. Even the sudden noises of things skittering in the brush behind me no longer startled; they became part of the same great pulse I was breathing with.

For the first time, I understood what it meant to be in communion. Not as a supplicant or an observer, but as a living part of the exchange.

[brahmasawakening]

I think the biggest realisation I have been working towards as of recently has to be…

Is when I am safe, and when I am not. Distinguishing the two. Because I carry so much past burdens and generational trauma given to me by my birth family, I sometimes lose my ground in the physical and astral sense.

I am tethered by shoestring to this Earth I feel. That used to be something that scared me. But now I have come to be complacent in this liminal space where I am as so much a part of this drama as I am somewhere beyond it. It’s a delicate dance, but one that I perform radiantly and with fervour.

One that I am deeply grateful for being gifted the opportunity to experience firsthand. I wouldn’t be who I am today without the lessons and tribulations provided by the universe.

I’ve been reflecting upon the past as you may can tell by my writings recently. In particular my relationship to the divine and how it manifests. What began as a young adult making a soul contract to Kali birthed a new being in their formulating later years. And it’s only exponential growth I would argue. Yes there are moments of downs if you will, depressions and panick attacks and ptsd episodes. But I still exist, now, afterwards. That’s something for me to be compassionate of rather than fear righteous wrath from or herald as something other than myself and give glories to.

I feel as though I am coming down from a multi year psychedelic trip, in so being that this all began when I first was introduced to psychedelics as shamanic medicines. What transpired, what led me to abstaining further on, is as much Shakti’s doing as it is my own soul’s path to walk. I feel as though I am awakening for the first time after sleeping following said trip. Like a hazy dream, “was that real or is this real?”

But I am also left with the experiences themselves and the emotions they bring up now. Something to tend to in quiet solitude away from others, far away in the forests where I call home.

[brahmasawakening]

Following my retreat to the ocean, I made my metaphorical ascent to the mountains where I could reflect and focus on integrating my recent experiences.

This excursion into the forests of Appalachia would mark a turning point in the journey; from desolation and suffering to gratitude and acknowledgement. The air was different here… quieter, but not empty. It carried a weight of remembrance, of countless lives and stories that had settled into the roots and stones.

This would be where I set out upon my journey to convene with the ancient forest spirits of the old world. Ishtar and Ishara, two goddesses I have come to know intimately within a set of particular sacred grounds.

When I arrived to this forest, I sat in my car and whispered a prayer of worship to the goddesses before I departed. For once I went into the threshold, I knew the energy would shift and the trees would consume me whole.

And indeed it did.

Once I had made my distance from the entrance, I began to listen intently to the forest sounds all around me: the faint whispering rustle of leaves, the quiet scurry of unseen creatures through the underbrush. The trees groaned and swayed in the wind, their movements slow and deliberate, almost beckoning me deeper.

Each sound felt purposeful; the sigh of branches, the hush between gusts. It was as though the forest itself was speaking in a language older than memory.

By the halfway point of the path, along the back curve that began to wind its way toward the trailhead, I felt called to stop. The air here was still, the canopy above holding its breath. I sat down upon the earth and offered prayers once more to Ishtar and Ishara, calling upon their presence to guide and protect me in the passage ahead.

Then I settled into meditation, breathing with the rhythm of the forest until the boundary between my breath and the world around me began to blur.

Eyes ever-closed, I inexplicably began to feel the presence of a graceful and gentle energy approach from the south, moving northward along the soft summit of the trail. It was neither sudden nor forceful, but fluid; a slow unfolding in the air around me.

This presence carried the weightless grace of a deer or elk, each motion felt rather than seen, as though its spirit had stepped lightly into my awareness. I did not dare open my eyes, for I knew instinctively that to do so would break the fragile veil between worlds.

Little did I know, this same essence would return to guide me again in the following days to come.

Once finished with my meditation, I offered gratitude to the forest spirits once more before continuing down the winding path. The air felt lighter now, as though the woods themselves had exhaled in relief.

Soon before reaching the convergence point where the trail met itself again, a flicker of motion caught my eye: a blue and black butterfly dancing gently in the soft mountain breeze. It lingered in my path, spiraling upward in playful circles before disappearing between the trees.

Butterflies have long held a deep and personal significance for me ever since my first contract with Kali in 2022. They have come to represent transformation, death and rebirth, and the endless cycles of dissolution and renewal that guide the seeker’s path. In that moment, I knew this encounter was no accident.

[brahmasawakening]

There comes moments in one’s life where they feel they must forego everything in the face of adversity and take a chance on themselves.

When it becomes nothing short of an inner battle between fear and continued destitution.

It is in these moments that the soul begins to stir. Uneasy, trembling, and yet aware that something must give. The world narrows into a single precipice: step forward and face the unknown, or remain where the walls close in tighter with every breath.

This is the alchemy of transformation. The moment when destruction and creation overlap, and one must choose which side of the flame to stand on.

My rock and a hard place was forcing myself to continue in a pattern that was blatantly and violently taking a toll on my physical and psychological health. I knew that if I didn’t change course, I risked collapsing again into the same burnout I had only just clawed my way out of.

After being what felt like pushed to the fringes of complete physical exhaustion and emotional desolation, I found myself suddenly at the beach one weekend evening.

The air was heavy with salt and stillness, the waves breaking with the rhythm of a distant heartbeat. It was as though the ocean itself had called me there… to bear witness, to wash away what had been.

This place would become my initiation: a sacred passage that marked the turning of a cycle. The sand beneath my feet felt ancient, whisperings of endings and beginnings. In that moment, I was no longer running from my pain, but standing directly within it.

I walked the coast back and forth for hours, spending time in the water and letting it envelop me with its chilly liquidity. The waves lapped at my skin like a baptism, each pull of the tides taking something old away with them.

After swimming and meditating, I followed the shoreline for nearly an hour before reaching the far point of the isle. The air shifted here… denser, quieter, as though the world itself held its breath. The place felt ethereal and liminal all at once.

Somewhere beyond the dunes, wooden chimes clinked together in uneven rhythm, though no wind stirred. Their sound felt almost deliberate, like an unseen hand testing the veil between worlds. Soon I would find myself surrounded by this clunking of chimes, and in that silence between tones, I felt it: a presence in the distance by the curve of the shore ahead. Not… menacing. But not benevolent either. Simply a keeper of this sacred space. And in the wind, a voice spoke to me: “you are not welcome here, not yet.”

I was compelled to leave. Not by reason, but by an instinct older than thought.

A sudden and utter dread seized me as my eyes adjusted to the dim and I recognized the figure in the distance. It stood motionless at first, neither advancing nor receding, and yet every fiber of my being screamed that I had been witnessed.

The air thickened, pressing against my skin as I turned back toward the way I came.

Each step away felt heavier, as if the shore itself wished to hold me fast.

And still, I could feel it following, not in the sand behind me, but somewhere deeper: just beyond my field of vision, at the edge where perception begins to blur into spirit.

Only when the sounds of the ocean gave way to the distant borders of civilisation again did the weight begin to lift.

Once back near civilisation, I settled into a private alcove in the sand dunes before meditating once more, this time on the ocean and moon spirits to thank them for their guidance.

This was not the end of my journey, though. For the days that followed, I would be drawn into a great alchemical process. One I have come to know intimately.

[brahmasawakening]

I’ve come to understand a process occurring within me that is sacred in a certain regard.

It’s more or less letting grief and pain move up and through the body and out. Very very deep shadow work I understand I am doing. Soul retrieval in a certain regard.

I wanted to talk about the headspace I am currently within and have been for some time now moving *through* this grief.

It’s a very… fragile state to be in. On one hand, I am emotionally and mentally numb to everything around me. I feel like I have been out in the rain for 48 hours without an umbrella. My mind is begging for an end, anything. Something to just *stop the fucking pain*.

On the other hand, there is this underlying ember of pure equanimous bliss *just* underneath the suffering. *Just behind the curtain.* That is loving every moment of the release of past anguish and rage and fear and so on so forth, coming forward and being expressed finally after 20 some odd years going unanswered.

It is also not just my suffering I am carrying and processing, but my family’s that I was given as a child. Could I replace suffering with karma? Sure. But I wouldn’t know the implications as of writing.

Nonetheless, this place is a bleeding edge space dancing between dualism and nondualism in a certain aspect. Teetering between pure bliss and pure agony. One recognises the larger picture, while the other can’t see past their own immediate pain. One is beyond, one contained within.

It’s a delicate act to balance. One that I have watched crumble before my eyes and have to rebuild from scratch countless times. I know this place all too well. I no longer fear entropy, but rather fall backwards with open arms when faced with its endless seas. Yet I also know the wisdom of turning away from the cliffside too. And when to stand firmly in the dirt.

I have come to learn a valuable lesson in learning when to accept defeat and not overextend myself. Which I feel is what has led me down that self-destructive road towards complete entropy in the past. Overextending myself and not admitting defeat.

Strange how when the spirit moves, the universe steps out of the way. But when the mind moves, it stumbles blindly into the dark, crashing into objects to and fro.

[brahmasawakening]

Just published the first article in a long time now! Go check it out and let me know what you think of it! 🪷

Arunmayi Ma and the Living Vessel of Sunyata

Aemilia Cohen

[brahmasawakening]

It’s a very unique feeling when you are given special opportunities to find yourself in your tribe.

I have been isolated for several years now, largely by my own doing, some to play in part by where the spiritual path has led me.

I have lost friends, family, lovers, all in the name of spiritual pursuit and self-actualisation.

There’s a strange ache in that kind of sacrifice: one part grief, one part liberation. When you step outside of the patterns that once kept you bound to a certain identity, you inevitably lose some of the people who were woven into that tapestry. It’s not that they are bad, or that you are better, but simply that the rhythms no longer match.

And yet, when you are granted moments of recognition and resonance, the whole world feels a little less alone even for a moment.

You learn to dance alone in silence, moving to the rhythm of your own heart. Not performing for others but instead for yourself. It is an incredibly liberating act of self-love in my opinion.

At first, it feels awkward. Like you’re missing the audience, the validation, the applause. But slowly, you realize the joy was never supposed to come from outside. It was always the simple miracle of movement, of being alive enough to sway and stumble and find your own beat.

And in those rare moments when someone else appears who dances in harmony with you, not demanding your steps but meeting them, it feels like grace. Not because you needed them to complete you, but because two liberated hearts meeting is its own kind of prayer.

Take last night for instance. I got dressed nice, dolled myself up you know? And I took myself downtown the night before the city’s Pride Festival to scope out the scene. Lo and behold, I stumble across an all lesbian band who is playing the private suite venue at the bar I stopped into. They see me at the door, invite me in, and we get to chatting for about 30 minutes before their set. It was an extremely wholesome experience and so surreal to meet other people from my tribe from vastly different parts of the country.

Today I am going to the Pride Festival for a number of reasons. I think most importantly, it is out of pride and rebellion against the systemic oppression of the LGBTQ+ community. But also, it’s to network and connect with my community. To bridge those relationships wherever they may lie and be a shining example of happiness and fulfilment as a transgender woman.

In many ways, this too is part of the dance; the step that moves from solitude into belonging, from silence into song. Pride is not only about visibility, but about joy. And joy, shared among your tribe, becomes an act of resistance all on its own.

Happy Pride Everyone!

[brahmasawakening]

When I make my way into nature, I often feel like the moments when Ram Dass talks of Anandamayi Ma in her “god-intoxicated” moments. Where Ma was doing cartwheels and taking her clothes off and all these other sort of behaviours.

I wonder what the purpose could be, being raised in the western world and becoming who I am. Rather than growing up closer to the source of the material I study and practice.

And then I am reminded of the duality of being within me when I focus on scrutinising the details instead of focusing on the bigger picture at hand.

We are all the same interconnected being experiencing itself at different angles and growth rates and lessons to be learned. So much intricacies that make each of us unique, yet one unifying factor that we often overlook in our day to day lives.

And there is no differentiation between light and dark as good nor evil. Because both are two sides of the same coin. Yin and Yang, Sun and Moon, Shiva and Shakti.

As a lightbringer and carrier of the sacred flame, it is my dharma to perform my life as a demonstration unto others the path towards enlightenment. This journey is an odyssey of spirit and mundane that I have come to understand since a young age.

As the one who has burned, the radiant one, as Arunmayi Ma… I am able to fulfill my dharma.

But I do not want to leave the other half of this coin unspoken of. The other side of this coin’s name is Aemilia. Aemilia is a human being at their essence, rather than a spiritual being. A human, who has experienced their fair share of life’s brutalities and come out the other side with a smile of gratitude through tears of heartache.

Then there is the space beyond both spaces of awareness, where everything else falls away and it is just pure loving awareness. There are no formal words for what this state of being is, but that is the best I can formulate.

This space of observer beyond the two sides is where I find myself as of writing, as so when I visited here. As so even when I feel this inexplicable intoxication within me like Ananadamayi Ma.

[brahmasawakening]

I think the hardest part of beginning a new creative journey is the lack of destination.

There are so many things I wish to talk about and share upon. Yet I feel as though everything has already been said, enough that is permissible to be shared with others in earnest anyhow.

I wish to share poetry and philosophy, my thoughts upon psychology and my experiences within the Western school of thought.

I also want to share stories of great odysseys I have been on within my spiritual journeying. Tales of soul retrieval and integration. Encounters with beings beyond myself, yet now as I have come to understand them as personal symbolism rather than divine interjections.

Endless amounts of creativity teeming underneath the surface. With no idea how to or who to present it as.

Because I have many names. I am an anomaly, an idea. Yet I am flesh and blood simultaneously. A spiritual being having a human experience in essence. Yet the depth of that pool is immeasurable and uncontainable to one form.

I believe that is where my current hang up is, the way I wish to perform the acts and dances anyhow.

I don’t know how to present myself. How to talk. Who I am speaking as. Where I am speaking from.

I suppose that is part of this unfolding journey as well.

[brahmasawakening]

I’ll be honest. I’m at a creative crossroads in terms of what I want to do with this platform.

On one hand, I feel like I have enough of a chunk of exploration done to come back and talk about it some. On the other hand, I also have ideas for branching out in different directions that include the intersections between spiritualism and psychology. Throw my hat into the ring there so to speak.

I might test out some of these ideas soon!

[brahmasawakening]

A Recent Meditation

I notice the different layers of awareness within me. There’s the part of me that acts: making decisions, reacting, moving through thoughts and emotions in real time. Then there’s the part that observes those actions, noticing patterns, noticing the choices I make, aware that I am acting. Beyond that, there’s a layer that simply witnesses, sitting back and seeing everything happen without judgment or interference. That witness itself knows it is watching, aware of its own presence. Sometimes, the actor senses the witness, performing with the knowledge of being observed. At the same time, the witness is aware of the actor and of its own role. These layers overlap and interact, each influencing the others, forming a kind of internal dialogue. And when a moment passes, when the “show” ends, the layers remain, but quieter. The acting, the witnessing, the observing; they all exist in memory, in reflection, in the space between moments.

Beyond acting, observing, or witnessing, there is a state where the usual layers of self dissolve. No part of me acts, no part observes, no part remembers. I am, but not as anyone. The mind quiets, the body stills, and the usual friction of self-awareness disappears. It is a zero point: nobody home, no actor, no audience, no witness, just the raw, neutral presence of existence. In this state, even the tension between the layers fades, leaving a kind of spacious emptiness. It is not loss or absence in a negative sense, but a clearing.

[brahmasawakening]

I used to have this theory lol

That the universe was a living fractal organism of sorts. That experiences itself experiencing itself experience itself, so on so forth. Something like, we are spiritual beings having a human experience.

I used to have a hard time differentiating the difference between direct firsthand experience and larger scale perspective. Like, interpretation of the spectacles I witnessed as a youth, now being older and having been grounded within this earth for some years now. What they meant, what they were saying. How they were saying it.

I remember listening to someone talk about the different channels you can flip between and do work within.

They said most people master fluctuating between one and two. And that is the average human experience. Some people experience a few or several. But masters of each channel are fully enlightened beings. Which I think of as gurus. People who have broken the golden chain.

[brahmasawakening]

I feel like recently I’m slowly coming out of a deep dark hole I had kind of submitted myself to.

Things are finally clicking within my shadow work. I’m witnessing the active subtle changes in headspace and state of being take hold to the point others are noticing.

Part of this has been soul retrieval in a way. In other aspects, memory recovery and integration at an accelerating rate. The resilience displayed is what’s driving me forward even more. I feel ready and hungry for more to process and sit with.

But I also know when the line between flame and candle gets blurred. And not to undo that delicate balance of aiding the flame that melts the candle without causing an inferno.

[brahmasawakening]

Following Rubedo: A Reflection Upon Kali Ma

The trick when dancing with Kali as a lover is that you have to come forward to direct her chaotic destructive energy. Her force is direct and almighty, yet pure entropy all at once.

She is pure Shakti, exposing all parts of your shadow with judgement bearing truth.

She is a fierce lover, one who destroys your attachments with ravenous hunger. For what you do in a relationship with her is to feed her your karma.

Invite her to sit at the table and feast upon your being to her hearts content.

For her cleansing devouring is sanctifying and holy.

I have come to know Kali not only as the Divine Mother, not only as the one who cradled me through every death and rebirth, but as a close and trusted friend.

To love Kali in this way is to be stripped bare. Not just in body, but in soul. To meet Her gaze without flinching, and allow her to see you completely.

She is equally a maddening intoxication. Her touch is sacred and cherished, yet can bring anyone at all to their knees. She is ecstasy and undoing.

She is the almighty Mother. Sri Ma.

[brahmasawakening]

The Rubedo Sigil Ritual

So as spoken upon before, I am writing about the ritual itself and what I did with those sigils I made recently.

As you can see in the first picture, I placed them one on top of another in the centre of a cauldron pot with a bundle of coloured candles bound in red and blue twine.

From there, I took a bay leaf, chosen for its traditional properties of manifestation and protection, and inscribed upon it a personalized mantra. The words weren’t complex, but they were true. Direct, from the heart, and born out of everything I had just called in. It was a declaration.

A vow, a seal.

Kali accepted the ritual with ferocity. The flames rose high, and the smoke poured out in thick streams. The fire billowed like Her laughter, sharp and full of power. She consumed the candles like hunger made visible, as though devouring the offering in one great breath.

Then, something shifted.

The oil beneath began to boil, and the herbs hissed in response within the tin used to protect the cauldron. It wasn’t chaos, it was alchemy. A sign. The working had been accepted not only by Kali, but, as I soon felt, by Krishna.

I felt His presence like warm light pressing gently at the edges of the moment. Kali, in Her intensity, had carved space within me. Krishna filled it; not to claim it, but to sweeten it.

Within Krishna, I have come to learn of Lord Rama: not just as another face of the divine, but as a guide of fortitude, of sacred leadership, and of grounded self-accountability.

Where Krishna invites me to dance in joy and play, Rama teaches me to stand in integrity. To hold myself to my word. To act with clarity even when the path is hard. His presence reveals the quiet strength it takes to show up fully. Not just for others, but for myself.

[brahmasawakening]

I made this second sigil as a banishment and binding piece to go with the first one. The plan is to lay the binding sigil underneath the abundance and healing one. That way, the energy of release supports the energy of growth—clearing space and charging what comes next.

I’ll write about what happened next in the following post.

[brahmasawakening]

So I made this sigil of sorts with the intention of using it for larger rituals in the future. I have made this one with the intention of grounding, protection, and abundance. Calling upon several deities such as Lakshmi, Ganesha, and Durga, as well as sacred phrases. All written down within Sanskrit. Finally using certain runes to seal the deal.

This was a lot different than my normal art styles. I’ve come to discover circles are very hard! And I was guesstimating with how to handle the pen, I did it all in a generic bic pen. I wanted to draw it out like a loose diagram. I like how it ended up turning out. I’m gonna make a new binder for things like this