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🌒🕯️

There are moments that don’t arrive with fireworks or fanfare.
They arrive quietly.
Almost casually.
And yet everything inside you knows: this is exact.

Yesterday, I was told I can prepare to receive my mother Gloria’s ashes.

Almost a year later. 49 weeks…
Unexpected.
Unforced.
And somehow — exquisitely timed.

The conversations I’ve been having over the last few days.
The internal shifts I didn’t even realize had finished integrating.
The way my body didn’t tense when I heard the words — it settled.

This wasn’t something I was reaching for anymore.
And that’s how I know it was ready.

A Memory from April

Back in April, someone said something that stayed with me.

He said that once I had reclaimed myself — once I had begun to truly mother myself — he felt I would either be able to receive my mother’s ashes…

I am ready.

What he named wasn’t a prediction. It was a recognition. A knowing that there would come a moment when I was no longer reaching for my lifelong absentee mother from a place of ache or unfinished dependency — but standing as mother to myself.

Steady.
Resourced.
Sovereign.

From that place, the ashes could come home.

This Isn’t About Reopening Grief

Claiming her ashes now isn’t about reopening loss.
It isn’t about pulling old wounds back to the surface.
It isn’t about “closure” in the tidy, spiritualized sense.

It’s about receiving what is already integrated.

I’m no longer asking her to fill a gap.
I’m no longer waiting for something from her that I didn’t receive in life.

I’m simply saying:

I can hold this now.

The Importance of the Unexpected

What matters most to me is that this arrived without effort.

No striving.
No chasing.
No “when will it finally happen?” energy.

It came because the internal work was already done.

My nervous system is ready.
My body is ready.
My internal lineage is ready.

This isn’t a return to who I was months ago.
This is that version of me being quietly confirmed.

And I want to name something clearly — for myself, and for anyone reading who needs to hear it:

I did not earn this moment by suffering enough.

I became able to receive it because I stopped abandoning myself.

A Different Kind of Ritual

This isn’t a ritual of loss.
It’s a ritual of placement.

She isn’t coming to rescue me.
She isn’t being asked to fix anything.

She’s coming to rest.

With me.

🔔 Invitation

If you’re reading this and something in your chest softened —
if you’ve been waiting for a moment you didn’t realize you were preparing for —
let this be a reminder:

Readiness doesn’t always look like urgency.
Sometimes it looks like stillness.

You don’t have to chase the moment when something comes home.
You become the place it can finally land.

With devotion and wonder,
The Inspired Imaginative | The Devoted Mystic

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