Since starting this healing work around the imprints of slavery, we’ve been feeling and experiencing some resistance. Souls terrified to ascend for fear of what they might lose, or fear of what they might find on the other side. Souls with so much guilt they were afraid to let go for fear of retribution. Lost souls who were stuck, stuck, stuck, and some powerful souls, one in particular (an ex slave master) who wasn’t having any of it!
This particular soul didn’t know what else to do but to stop us, or at least to try. As a result we had financial difficulties, issues with my visa and ability to stay in St Lucia, spirit attachments causing physical pain, accidents, oh the list could go on.
What to do?
Send love! Love and forgiveness.
By truly forgiving, by letting go completely, by sending love, unconditional love, the darkest of energies will budge. That love heals them, and sets us free at the same time.
With a little ceremony, lead by Bruno one evening, filled with love and forgiveness, and the powerful one left, he ascended with many… so many, following behind. It felt like not only slave masters who left but also their family members who had also been hovering in limbo. One by one I could see them filing out the door.
Things felt so much lighter but Isabella wasn’t happy, in fact she was working up to a major scream. An evening walk usually sends her off to sleep but it was raining, so no walk that night. So we turned to our usual last resort… a drive. It didn’t feel right to drive south in the rain, or into the beautifully cool hills because the roads are a bit tricky, so we headed north with a grizzly girl in her car seat. Yet again the car felt heavy, and I realised along the way that we had some extra passengers, and they needed to be taken to Pigeon Island. So off we headed.
We do a lot of driving with a lot of passengers, don’t we! And because we didn’t have a lot of fuel, we wouldn’t have taken that drive, except for creaming baby egging us on to go, go, go! Isabella’s clearly in charge! Her crying/screaching is always taken notice of, she’s a calm happy baby unless there really is something wrong.
We felt more and more heavy and sleepy as we pulled up to the gates of Pigeon Island, it was late at night so there was not a sole to be found, not embodied anyway. Bruno and I checked out, nodding in that snoozy way, Isabella was wide awake.
And a beautiful bubble of forgiveness was created. Our passengers wanted to come to Pigeon Island to apologies to those ex-slaves who were left, and that they did. There was an honest and deep exchange of forgiveness… and then the most beautiful sight… a lavender cloud or bubble rose in layers and so many souls ascended.
I felt lighter, so much lighter, Bruno slept and Isabella squealed with delight as we drove home.
Of course when we reached home I was aware of more souls! More!!!!!! Peaceful, slightly vulnerable but happy to wait for us to re-group.
Watch this space…
May the healing ripples run far, wide and deep!
Of course we arrived back from our trip to Martinique feeling pretty knackered, but happy to have achieved. We washed clothes and even more clothes, we shopped for food… the usual post trip stuff.
That evenings we were tired, Isabella slept and fed so much the next morning. She was a feeding sleeping baby machine! I had a sleep in too and in my sleep had slave after slave after slave come to me one by one for a chat… I don’t know what was said but it seems to have been very healing.
I smelt cocoa tea and charcoal all morning… Cocoa tea is like a hot chocolate, it’s the traditional tea that they drank back then, and we have it most days (it’s so good and really good for you, really it is!). Charcoal was used (and still is) to cook. A clay pot called a ‘Coal Pot’ is used to hold the burning coals and the pot which contains the food. The smells were so strong.
Bruno had felt ‘crowded’ all night and all morning and I could feel the presence of a LOT of spirits too. They were content, watching us, watching the way we do things now, patiently waiting for our next move. They asked me to pop some cocoa tea (Bruno happened to make a big pot of it the night before) on the coal pot for them. Those smells then became real, they were content, they had been fed and nourished.
We decided to go to pigeon island early that afternoon to re-unite them with their loved ones. It felt like we needed to drop them off, like they needed guidance to get there safely. They still felt vulnerable and we were their guides.
I tell you what, we had a heavy load traveling to Pigeon Island! Walking from the car park into the island felt almost impossible. The weight of grief was incredible.
And the joyous emotion at the re-union was so beautiful… I shed more tears :). We could feel the energy lifting so much and I could see so many souls ascending. Isabella was crying all the way but she felt relief when we left. We went for a swim and felt so free.
It feels like there’s a lot more to do on that small Island but we’re up for it and look forward to more ‘work’ if you could call it that.
Returning home it felt good to have more space in our little apartment… we were happy for the visors but thrilled that they had been re-united and freed and that we had our home back, just for us and the usual beings who happily hang around helping us out :).
And fast track to a few weeks later, each time we visit the island, and go to the area where the grieving ex-slaves were hanging out, we feel a sense of peace. Like a big sigh of relief. And each time we hear “thank you, thank you, thank you” being whispered in our ears.
May the healing ripples run far wide and deep!
The St Lucian government sent us on a little trip… on my usual monthly visit to immigration to extend my visitors visa, I was told that I needed to leave the island and come back before they would keep extending my visa. Apparently as a non-citizen, you need to leave each year, something I wasn’t aware of. Interesting timing tough, you see I had been in St Lucia for 18 months already and no-one had mentioned it, not a peep about it. And now that our slavery healing work had begun, hey presto! Combine that with a deep desire to go on a little holiday, to have a rest away from it all (even in tropical paradise there’s that need). Our wishes came true! On paper finances said ‘no, no, no’ to our trip but we managed to make it happen (spirit really wanted us to go)… a 3 day break in neighbouring Martinique.
Of course we knew we were going to do more than to have a break and to visit Bruno’s sister who lives in Martinique, there was energy work to be done. The ex-slaves on Pigeon Island who were longing to re-unite with their loved ones wanted us to go, the ex-slaves held energetically in Martinique wanted us to go and of course spirit wanted us to go (see previous post – Pigeon Island). So with a little push from Immigration, we went!
But first we popped along to Pigeon Island to take a ‘piece’ as promised. We took a splinter of wood from a very old building (don’t worry we didn’t take it off the precious building, it had already fallen off… promise!) which sits right next to the spot where the mourning ex-slaves were ‘hanging out’, also a small piece of root from a hanging tree, the type where the roots grow down from the branches, like tears.
In our planning, we struggled to find accommodation close to the port that we were arriving into, nothing was coming together, and then we found something in a totally different spot which felt perfect. We realised that it was close to a monument that Bruno had mentioned several times, it’s a monument to slaves who drowned at sea. A ship was anchored in the wrong spot during a storm and hundreds of lives were lost. Those who lived were transported instantly, traumatised, to the plantation to which they were assigned. It felt like the right place to visit and to do some energy work. As usual it turned out perfectly.
Of course things didn’t go to plan. Instead of resting the first day, we spent the day driving around Martinique, it was a lovely day but we were knackered and certainly didn’t have that holiday feeling we so craved. We also had what seemed at the time, a mishap with a placenta, but that’s another story :).
We vowed to have a restful morning the next day (I know… only one morning!) and to go to the slavery monument on Sunday afternoon. We relaxed and it felt good, we debated should we go to the monument that afternoon, there were frustrations… we weren’t resting enough, but also we came to do some energy work and weren’t doing it. Grrrrr! We decided to call it quits for the day and to go to the monument the next day, our last day in Martinique. Bruno’s sister had invited us for lunch so we decided to go to the monument first.
Of course things didn’t go to plan :). We walked into the local village in the morning, just like you do when you’re on holidays, went to the ATM, popped into a couple of shops etc. Time felt strange and we moved very slowly, as if we were being dragged. At the time I thought it was the heat, the sun was beating down, but in hindsight it was more than that.
With the morning gone we headed off to lunch with the plan to go to the monument after (I know!). Problem was that Bruno’s sister lives up in the hills, quite a way from where we were staying. Getting to the area was pretty straight forward but once we were close it became impossible, or so it seemed. We took turn after turn which looked familiar (from visiting on the first day) and felt right but kept taking new roads, discovering new areas. And with every turn we passed old plantations, some abandoned but most revived in ways to become homes, resorts etc. We felt heavier and heavier. I felt calm (just as well because I was driving and on the other side of the road to what I’m used to!) but Isabella was becoming more and more upset, Bruno became more and more angry.
We were in the most beautiful hills, lush green, cool, amazing views of the valleys and mountains close by, absolutely stunning.
You see with each turn, each section covered by our compact hire car, we were getting the attention of ex-slaves who had been walking and re-walking certain paths for hundreds of years and who didn’t know what to do to be able to change that. Perhaps they didn’t know there were options at all. We were getting their attention and were collecting them along the way.
The emotions were intense, hence Isabella and Bruno picking up on sadness and anger. Bruno was voicing that he wasn’t able to make his own choices, that he was being controlled etc… sounds like the energy of slavery hey! At one point he even stomped his feet. My lovely friend Kathy Baker, who helps us to make sense of so much stuff, later explained that the foot stomping was linked to the traditional dance of the ex-slaves. We knew the anger was linked to the slaves and that Bruno was picking up on it, it didn’t make it any easier though.
Have you ever set off to find a place, not managed to find it, and given up?… well that was us. A couple of hours of driving around we felt defeated and headed back to the south of the island where we were staying. We felt terrible to let Bruno’s sister down, we couldn’t call and hoped that she would understand. We decided to head straight to the monuments while we still could… what we felt we came for.
Of course things didn’t go to plan. We were heading down the motorway, I was driving toward our accommodation thinking that the monument was close by… it wasn’t really. We had words, illogical words, the type of illogical words when other energies are involved. We argued about where we were going, how to get there, my going the wrong way, it being too late to go to the monument, but the monument was the reason we were in Martinique, so we had to go, oh boy! Many deep breaths were taken.
But we managed to navigate our way to the section of the island where the monument is. There’s a beautiful coastal road, really beautiful, dotted with holiday homes, lovely beaches, sweet villages. Once we started to drive on that road it felt like we had one giant sigh of relief, we were setting souls free on that coast, some were leaving us, bit by bit we felt better, we actually felt relaxed and cheerful.
It felt like a whole bunch of slaves had arrived to the coast all those years ago and had been transported to the hills to do their ‘work’, and this was their chance to be brought back to the same coast to leave again. It also felt like an even larger ‘bunch’ had escaped and fled to the hills, and had to stay there for fear of being caught, and this was also their chance to be brought back to the coast to leave.
Eventually we foundhe spot, the monument. It’s a beautiful monument to a very sad event. Bruno had been there many times and felt deep sadness each time. This was his chance to transmute that energy. I handed things over to Isabella and Bruno to ‘do their thing’. It felt right, they are after all descendants, of then-slaves. I held the space for them. Bruno said some beautiful words and released the pieces taken from Pigeon Island. Bruno cried, I cried, Isabella chuckled.
Such a relief !
And back to our relaxing accommodation we headed to prepare to leave early the next morning, job done!
(If you are interested in finding more about the memorial, it’s called ‘Anse Caffard Memorial’. It was created to commemorate the abolition of slavery and the sinking of one particular ship which moored during the night after the importation and sale of slaves became illegal. It comprises 15 figures made of white stone and standing 2.5m tall. The white stone symbolises death and the triangular formation of the figures represents the the shape of the ocean routes the ships took when the slave trade was at its height.)
Our good friend Kathy Baker explained later that on the ferry we were tracing the journey made by slaves who were transported from St Lucia to Martinique. So all along the way, healing was taking place. Of course!
May the healing ripples run far, wide and deep!
Thwarted (Placenta) Plans…The plans were so great! We planned to keep the placenta from the birth of our lovely Isabella, to either dehydrate and encapsulate or to add a little each day to my morning green smoothie… lots of goodness going back into Mumma.
Plan One Thwarted! The placenta wouldn’t budge (that’s another story) so it was removed manually under general anaesthetic. Boo! The hospital kindly gave us said placenta in a small tub but it was in bits, and I SO wasn’t going to eat it with all of that anaesthetic being held by it. No, no! So into the freezer it went.
Time passed, baby grew and we tossed ideas around as to what to do with our rich and life giving placenta. Yes we’ll bury it on a family property under a Moringa tree… perfect!
Plan Two Thwarted! Family sold the land! Hmm, what to do?…
Set it free at sea. Yes, that’s perfect! Although throwing it out at a beach or onto some rocks wouldn’t work… imagine swimming to find bits of placenta. Oh no!!!! So, to sea on a boat it is… perfect.
And the perfect opportunity arose… a trip to the neighbouring Island Martinique thanks to the St lucian Government (you need to leave from time to time so they will allow you to stay!?!? – shame they didn’t pay all expenses!). We’ll throw it overboard when we’re on the ferry. Yes! It will be perfect, emotional but perfect. A little ceremony and we’ll send it on its way, to nourish the waters and some lucky fish!
Off we head, early one morning on our mini-break. Frozen placenta safely tucked away in the bottom of the push chair. What a great plan.
Plan Three Thwarted… we forgot it was there!!!! With the early morning start, getting a sleeping baby organised, getting us organised, and the excitement of it all, we totally forgot!!!
We cued for what felt like forever for the ferry, after disembarking we cued for customs, we caught a taxi with Bruno’s sister, husband and baby (local Martinique folk) to the airport to collect a hire car, it was all going so well :).
Fitting everything and everyone into the car was another matter. The men folk squeezes the suitcases, the push chairs into the very small trunk and …. OH MY GOD who’s bleeding? There was what looked like blood running down the back of the very clean white hire car. We checked ourselves, no cuts no wounds… oh no, it’s the placenta!!!!! Squashed into the bottom of the folded push chair, container broken… Placenta everywhere. Bruno looked at me, I looked at him in horror… not the placenta! It’s so special, it’s so precious, it fed our precious Isabella for 9+ months, it did a great job… and now it was dripping down the back of a hire car and onto the airport car park. What to do?!?!? Bruno said it had to be thrown away, I had pangs of grief, “I guess we have to”!
Funnily enough it felt OK, my pangs of grief came from my mind, not my heart. This isn’t what’s supposed to happen to a sacred placenta! I had such great plans for it, it was going to be so poignant, so beautiful!
Bruno carried the dripping bag to the very large industrial size dumpster, explaining what it was in French to his family and as I stood in dismay, and he walked back with two very nice French beach mats!!!! Someone clearly had too much luggage on their departure, so we scored :).
I wondered why it had happened this way, we didn’t need beach mats that badly! There must be a reason, I thought… after all there’s a reason for everything right? I wished the placenta well on it’s journey through Martinique to the dump site, wherever that is.
Stained push chair in the car and off we went leaving a very stained car park behind. I expected to feel sad about the whole thing, but it really did feel right. Strange but right.
Fast-track to 3 days later, after 3 days of doing a lot of driving around Martinique, getting lost often, so often. Another early morning and we drove bleary eyed to the airport to drop the hire car off before catching the ferry back to St Lucia. Of course they were doing roadworks at the entrance of the airport so we even got lost there, twice we drove around the front of the airport when we saw well preserved cottages at the front in a sort of garden, cottages that had been housing to slaves on the sugar cane plantation which once stood where the airport now is.
The trip was for us (apart from seeing family, relaxing and getting a stamp on my passport) all about doing some healing of the imprints of slavery in Martinique. Each time we ‘got lost’ we passed a sugarcane plantation which we wouldn’t have seen otherwise. Each time we drove along an unplanned rout we were doing healing, collecting ‘stuck’ souls of ex-slaves to help them to be free. And once we returned home I realised that the Monty Python placenta incident was of course perfect. We were meant to spill that blood on the old sugar cane plantation site, we were meant to pop it in the dustbin so that it would be carried through Martinique, spreading its healing energy as it went. We were meant to have a blood stained push chair that we took everywhere to share the energy in that way too. It was all perfect.
You see that Placenta (and Isabella of course) represents a mix of ancestry, quite a mix… a Scottish slave master, slaves (both on Bruno’s side), an English Australian (that’s me), a mumma who’s a healer and a baby who’s an amazing healer. Quite a power packed tupperware container full of healing energy :).
The best laid plans hey… they always turn out perfectly!!!!!
May the healing ripples run far, deep and wide!
After our last healing expedition, we were keen to do more. I asked Bruno where in St Lucia he would like to go next to do some energy clearing and he chose Pigeon Island. It’s an ex-island to the north of St Lucia which was once separate but has since been joined to the mainland. It’s now a national park which is beautiful and peaceful but holds many layers of a turbulent history… pirates, battles, wars, rebellions, domination, cruelty. It has a museum with the main relics found on the Island of St Lucia and has many ruins on the actual land, plus a burial ground from way back to Admiral Rodney’s time. Quite a lot of stuff for one little island.
And Pigeon Island is the spot where we released the ashes from our previous ceremony… just by chance hey!
We were keen to go and to do some work but spirit said… ‘wait’. We needed to prepare, to ground, to really be ready for this one, it was to be a big one! And the possibilities were felt by those we were to help.
Once the decision was made to go I could smell rum and cigars in our apartment, for days. It was the smell of rum that was stale, from someone who drank and smoked and rarely bathed. The smell was so strong. We were being ‘checked-out’ by one of the ex slave master’s…. He felt threatened and was wondering what we were up to. The air was thick with his presence.
A week later, feeling somewhat prepared, we headed off for an afternoon on the island.
Once there, we felt our way, we really allowed spirit to guide us. We first headed to the Caribbean side of the Island, we walked as far north as we could to a spot which felt right. It had a little clearing and a spot to sit. The area was just next to a cemetery where a lot of naval soldiers were buried but while we were there it felt like the souls who were hanging around were Caribs (one of the original tribes) and ex-slaves. We were surrounded by a ring of beautiful old trees and it felt like we were well and truly surrounded by a ring of beings, we were all working together.
Approaching the area, Isabella cried and cried. Once we were there she was still. The energy in that particular spot was thick with emotion. Oh boy! We sat quietly and could feel the sadness, I cried and cried as the emotions were being processed and cleared. So much trauma and sadness!!! But in time, it lifted, we could feel the lightness and could see the souls releasing. It was such a relief! We felt the work had been done, for that particular spot anyway.
We then popped into the cemetery where there was such a sense of heaviness and panic. The soldiers were so attached to their uniforms and medals etc and didn’t want to leave them, they provided a sense of safety and purpose, but they did leave eventually. And again a sense of lightness came.
We walked a little further and walked along a pier, I could see so many bodies (in spirit) floating in the water. I checked to see what they needed to be able to leave but they said they weren’t ready to leave just yet. Once in this spot, the Spanish fleet was captured and brutalised by Pirates (or so the history books say) and I could see that the bodies floating in the water were in uniform. So, that’s for a future visit!
Then we went to the other side of the Island (the side facing Martinique) and the area we worked on wasn’t accessible but we sat as close as we could. It felt like there were A LOT of ex-slaves on that side of the island, holding so much grief and longing for the neighbouring island Martinique. It felt like they were wanting to re-unite with family members who had been sold to slave masters in Martinique. I could see them holding onto the side of the hill and reaching out toward Martinique, reaching as far as they could, with such sorrow. Such sorrow! And Isabella cried and cried.
The energy here lifted, the deep sorrow lifted somewhat and I was told that we needed to go back to this same spot before our trip to Martinique, that we should visit again and take a rock or some soil from there to take to Martinique… all with the intention of re-uniting families so that they can then leave (ascend).
For the moment we needed to clear some more energy so we took some bits and pieces with us to the magical hill (where we went for our last ceremony) with many souls following the car, just like last time, and burnt the bits and pieces with some sage. I could hear the beings saying thank you, thank you over and over and Bruno and I both felt the lightness… and Isabella slept at last!
We felt a lovely lightness, I also felt frustrated that we couldn’t do more. But was shown that bit by bit is the way it has to be done.
Interestingly, just next to the island they were setting up for a huge weekend beach party which is put on for French people from Martinique and there were loads of yachts, boats and jet ski’s arriving from Martinique for just that. The St Lucia/Martinique link felt so strong!
A few days later, Isabella and I were out and about and killing some time, so we drove to Pigeon Island, sat in the car just outside the gate and could hear the ex-slaves on the hill singing to their loved ones. It sounded so beautiful, so poignant, so powerful. They had shifted from a state of deeply held sorrow and longing to a sorrow that was being expressed by song, a sorrow that had hope of resolution.
May the healing ripples run far, wide and deep!
Way back, before our daughter Isabella was born, I received guidance from spirit… to ask my lovely friend in the UK (who lives in an amazing old house that was once used to house slaves in transit, and which hosted terrible butchery and abuse of women) for a ‘piece’ of the house. Something that she could pop in the post to me. Something that we could use in a ceremony here in St Lucia to help to re-unite the men who made it to the Caribbean as slaves, with the women and children who didn’t make it.
A few weeks later, it arrived, an envelope containing bits and pieces, some plaster, dust etc. Perfect! I was keen to get going with the ceremony but it felt important to wait until Isabella was out in the big wide world, sure she was with us in my growing belly and making her healing energy known not just to us but to those she came in contact with, but she needed to be here. So the envelope was put aside until the time was right.
And that time came, Isabella was a few months old, and the energy felt right. and this is what happened…
“So, this morning we headed from home Isabella, Bruno and I. As I drove from our home, I couldn’t drive very fast at all, there were so many beings with us and it felt like they were creating wind resistance!
First stop was the old sugar cane mill to collect a piece of the machinery which still stands – a splinter of timber which was hanging off the supports for the machinery and a piece of the roof timber which had fallen. The machinery was dated 1879 and it’s amazing how well preserved it is. There were many slaves still there, working, as if they didn’t know what else to do, and some were afraid to leave. The emotions there were so heavy, a feeling of such sadness and desperation. Bruno asked them to come with us. His ancestors are a mix of slave and slave master so not all agreed, some didn’t trust and stayed behind.
We drove even more slowly (the weight on the car was incredible) to a sacred hill where there is a beautiful healing portal of love. The weather was unusually cloudy and grey. We offered the pieces to spirit by burning them along with sage, a page from the local newspaper which was all about the events in southern US at the time (churches being burned), a written intention page and the packaging that the pieces of the UK house came in. They were carried to the site in a woven basket made by women in Kenya and were burnt in a coal pot which is a traditional clay pot used to cook here. We could see hundreds, thousands of spirits ascending, releasing from their bond, maybe even more than that. The land felt lighter and the sun started to shine very gently.
Then we popped the ashes into the same plastic bag that the house fragments were wrapped in and headed to the north of the island, to the Atlantic side, a spot where many battles occurred, just next to a place which was once an island (called Pigeon Island). Bruno climbed over the rocks and released the ashes into the ocean, washing the bag in the waves at the same time.
And the energy felt lighter again.
On our journey from the hill to the place of release, we were guided to drive through a local town which holds a lot of density, and of course the car got even heavier. On the way back we could feel the relief along the same route, we could almost hear the sighs and could see some sparkle coming in.
When on the hill I was shown that some slaves stayed behind at the cane plantation, and that we should go back to check, and to ask them to leave. That they would have felt or seen the others go and would be more likely to follow. So we did just that. The place we first visited felt so much lighter and we could see and feel the remaining slaves leaving, bringing even more light. The image attached is from after the release, I didn’t want to capture the energy from before and interfere with the work.
All in all, the ceremony, although so simple, felt really effective and complete.
Of course Isabella was a happy girl during the work and as soon as the spirits were ready to ascend she fell into a deep sleep, waking after the ashes were released to the sea. She then fell asleep again on the way back to the cane plantation and woke in the brightest, giggly mood when leaving. In the days leading up to the ceremony she slept so much. I could feel some of the spirits were being prepared to leave, getting their things ready to travel and she was helping them through the whole process, all the while being a baby! What a clever girl :).”
We have since returned to the sugar cane plantation and to that spot where the machinery lies and it feels so different, no ex-slaves. At first it felt empty, nothing, and then with later visits it felt full, brimming with the energy of nature, it felt green, lush and calm. Beautiful!
My friend in the UK ceremonied at the same time with profound shifts taking place. It’s so lovely to be able to do such simple things to create change… which of course we can all do.
May the healing ripples run far, wide and deep!
Thanks so much for checking in to our ‘Clearing the Imprints of Slavery’ blog. We are Kay, Isabella and Bruno, a happy little family living in St Lucia (you can read more about us here). We have been guided by spirit to do certain energy work here in the Caribbean to heal the imprint of slavery, and it feels important to share the journey of this project with you.
This imprint of slavery is so strong in St Lucia, and no doubt all around the world, but as we live here, this is where most of our work is being done. Kay is Australian born and moved to St Lucia (upon guidance) around 2 years ago, met Bruno who is a native St Lucian, fell in love and then along came gorgeous baby Isabella…. a real little healer!
We’re a bit of a mix culturally. Bruno is 4th generation St Lucian. Prior to that generation there was a Scottish slave master and an African who created Bruno’s particular St Lucian family lineage. Kay is 3rd generation Australian with English, Irish and Scottish ancestors. And Isabella is of course a mix of all of that. We represent both sides of the coin when it comes to slavery in terms of nationality but of course we can all relate to the energy of slavery in some way, no matter where we come from and no matter where or how we live.
We hope that by sharing this journey with you, you feel inspired in some way. We hope that by sharing the journey, you receive healing of any slavery imprints held by you. Whatever you receive from this work, we’re happy!
And of course we hope that the work creates deep shifts for many, and has a ripple effect back through generations, forward through generations and through societies.
May the healing ripples flow far, wide and deep!