We Can't Half-Ass Death - Lesson 1

Metamorphosis (Part 2)

“We Can’t Half-Ass Death”. This is a chapter from the book Mary Magdalene Revealed by Meggan Watterson.

I was listening to it on my walks during the time my soul was guiding me to descent into the Underworld or in other words telling me “It’s time for another Death.”

In this chapter, Meggan talks about wanting to begin again and that you cannot start over without dying all the way through.

I paused. Both. My steps and the Audiobook.

I shifted my feet to keep myself warm. The frozen ground below my Uggs made a crunching sound. I looked around me.  The trees were still barren. 

I freed my hands from my mittens and hit the 30-sec rewind a bunch of times till I got to the beginning of the chapter. I slowed the cadence of Meggan’s voice and started walking again, slowly, as I listened to the entire chapter one more time.

“We Can’t Half-Ass Death”

Fuck!

Remember I told you that the last time I was in my Dark Night, it lasted a really long time? That I resisted it badly? That I went in kicking and screaming?

What I didn’t say was that every time I felt like I was coming up for air,  Dark Mother pulled me in for what seemed like another Death. 

It was like Dante’s Inferno. A never-ending Purge.

But….but….but…but….on that day when everything around me looked pretty dead. From the ground below to the trees above me, I understood something. 

What scares us about Death is the finality of it. Death for us means Game Over. A forever jump into the Abyss. Even though it is the only thing we can be certain of. Every life form around us is designed to die and when it doesn’t die, it decays. 

We can’t Half Ass Death. We have to die all the way through to be re-born again.

I looked at the trees again. They do this every year. They don’t cling to the last leaf, or the last flower. They let go. They die all the way through.

This was my first lesson in my descent to the Underworld and I knew what I had to do.

Have you ever had a glass of stale Sparkling Water? Or Champagne? It tastes horrible, right?

All the bubbles have died. What remains is a glass of horrible-tasting flat water.

That is how I felt. I was that stale flat water with no effervescence. And I wanted that fizz. I was that fizz before.

Brimming with confidence. “Badass” they used to call me. 

But when my old personality started to die, my confidence disappeared. I didn’t feel bad-ass. I felt flat. No bubbles.

I felt sorry for myself. I said crap like “Oh I don’t deserve this” when someone did something nice for me. And, yet I hung on to the hope that the fizz will be back again.

I stayed in the same glass, hoping and praying that the bubbles will be re-born again. I prayed over it. I blessed it. I charged it with crystals and stuff. I bathed it in the Full Moon.

I did everything except let it die all the way through.

When my mom died, I was beside myself with grief. I mourned her loss with so much sadness in my heart. I couldn’t talk about her without my heart clenching and tears flooding my eyes.

After years of this, one day she came to me in my meditation and said “Mini I love you and I will always be here but you have to let me go. Stop mourning me. Celebrate me.”

I had to stop mourning my old personality. I had to give her a good death and celebrate who she was. 

I had to let go of that glass of flat water. I had to pour it into the drain and dump the glass in the recycle bin. 

And then I had to let go, completely. 

Did you know that when a butterfly is in the process of “becoming”  – there are THREE stages she moves through?  

Caterpillar to winged one is not the full story.  

In between those, comes the complete dissolution phase.  It’s when she completely dissolves and transmutes into a liquid form in order for her to emerge as the beautiful thing she is. 

The dissolution is Full-Assing your Death.

I knew what I had to do now and I did it in the only style I know. 

Ceremony. Scared and true to my Priestess roots. 

On a Full Moon night on a beach, I wrote an eulogy to the effervescent me, celebrating all that she was and then I gave her a final goodbye. 

I tore that piece of paper and let it go in the swollen belly of the Ocean on that Full Moon Night. It felt poignant and complete. I finally felt emptied out, dissolved. Now I could make my descent into the Underworld in full surrender. 

I didn’t know if I will be handed another glass of fresh Sparkling Water again, but it didn’t matter. Because I felt like that tree on my walk. Barren yet rooted. 

I knew that this time I had died all the way through.