Death and Rebirth(ka)

Aug 23

Hello! What a summer!

I know we still have a few more weeks but, golly gee, this has been a summer for the books. I want to start out by sending blessings and courage to everyone in Hawaii affected by the fires last week. The stories I’ve been hearing have been heart-wrenching and the resilience of the Hawaiin people is palpable. I pray for their strength as they grieve, reorganize, and build again.

I’ve been seeing the Tower card a lot in my Tarot readings this summer and I’m not gonna lie, the Tower is a scary looking card. It shows a burning building with people jumping off the spires. It signifies the destructive part of the life cycle, the tearing down so that something new can grow in its place. It’s not really something to fear, but it is something to be in awe of and to regard with great respect, I think.

I also want to talk about the Venus retrograde that has been happening this summer. When a planet goes retrograde it appears to go backward in the sky, hence the retro. Venus begins the transit in the night sky and once the retrograde is finished, Venus reappears in the morning sky. The planet becomes very hard to see during this time because if it’s not below the horizon, it’s in front of the sun. And so the story goes, Venus herself, the planet of love, beauty, art, femininity, relationships- like all of it- dies for a while and goes to the underworld. While Venus is down there she has an opportunity to see the underbelly of herself, to uncover deeper truths, and then rise again as a bright shiny morning star.

So what the heck? Come on Rebecca, this is interesting I guess but what does it have to do with me? You might be asking yourself…

I ask you, What in your life are you being called to let go? What doesn’t fit you anymore? Could you maybe let it die? Maybe let it go and open the path for something new to come in?

So let me tell you what I’ve been up to. I knew change was in the air. Like I said, I’ve been seeing the Tower card, as well as some other big change cards in my readings. I also had the urge to dye my hair, a first for me in almost a decade. My style has been changing - all my clothes feel weird and my bones don’t really fit my skin. I’ve wanted to throw away all my jewelry and get new things. And then in the middle of July, my roommate, whom I adore, told me she was going to move out at the end of the lease and I thought, “ya I think I am too.”

I’ve lived in this apartment for 7 years. I really grew up in this apartment. It was my pandemic home. I built this website in this home, sitting right here, in the living room on the couch, just like I am right now. Deciding to leave has felt a little bit like an abrupt ending to a sitcom I had a feeling was in its last season, but didn’t know for sure. I’ve learned so much about myself and the world and where I fit into it while living in this apartment, and I’m sad to finish this chapter, but I’ve got to go somewhere my bones fit better.

Another change that feels significant is I’ve stopped calling myself an opera singer. I changed all of my website things from singer to performer and now when people ask what I do I say performer. And it hopefully goes without saying but, I still love singing opera, I hope I always love singing opera, but to call myself an opera singer and have that be the end of the sentence feels like I’m neglecting parts of myself and my talent. I am not the same person I was when I moved to New York in dreams of being whisked away by the Met and I don’t want to feel like I failed as a singer, a student, or a person, because I no longer feel the pull to kill myself to be on an operatic stage. Maybe to some people, this change doesn’t feel like a huge distinction. “What’s the difference between a performer who sings opera and an opera singer?” And really, what is? I still plan to go on auditions for opera, I still am moved by opera, and am hopeful for the art form’s future… But for me, it feels like a slight change that can set course in a completely different direction. When I think about how it feels in my spiritual body, it feels like I’ve been carrying around a corpse with me, using it to shield myself from a harsh light, but in the end, it just left me in the cold and dark. And now, I can put it down and recalibrate. But I think that’s the case when you start questioning your identity and start to look beyond yourself - You drop the persona you think you need to be and gain the responsibility to try to be yourself a little more. But then who do I have to blame if I don’t feel fulfilled?! Welcome inside my brain.

So… big changes and big growth. That’s what we’re here to do though right? I really feel like I was put on this earth to understand death and how we can use grief to connect with each other. So when you’re thinking about what in your life can change and die just remember, the more love you can let in the better. I’ll try to love you harder and you try to love me harder… and soon enough the love we have will change the world.