One hell of a priestess died yesterday. Jody Levy was nothing less than a powerhouse. Her intensity, magnetism, passion, and heart were all super-sized, and she will now be working her deep, potent mojo from the other side. She had her shadows, as we all do, and one of her struggles was feeling like she had bypassed some of her potentials in this lifetime. She was brilliant, and I wonder how much the cultural programing of fame and wealth being the signs of success drove her Spiritual Tyrant (as she called it) to disregard her huge impact on others. She was a Mystic and a visionary, a leader who inspired many, many people. She had a delightful full-body laugh bordering on a cackle and could make an incredible pot of soup. She carried poetry in her bones, and could read your Tarot cards compassionately, articulating your greatest gifts and challenges. She was an ancient Temple Priestess in an era when most remain hidden from the larger collective.
We all have our dances with the dark, and as I sit with my own struggles around earthly recognition and value I want to ask you if you were to die tomorrow are you satisfied with your life. What are your criteria for a successful life, and if your thoughts are leaning toward feeling inadequate, do you/we need a new scale? We all live with crippling cultural trances that invalidate our true powers and releasing inherited spells frees us for new measures of worth.
Rock on beloved bad-ass sister as you become the light and the dark again in your new/timeless assignments. I dreamed of your wild beauty this morning and knew you had transitioned, save a spot on your dance card for when I return home.
I pulled two Oracle of Initiation cards for her, no surprises here.
66. Infinity reversed and 35. Receiving with the guardian White Painted Woman. She is the Apache creation deity, also known as Changing Woman to the Diné/Navajo. She is the embodiment of the earth and the seasons, and when she needs rejuvenation she walks east towards the horizon merging with the sun to be reborn again. Blessing on merging with your shadows with your light to truly receive your brilliance, dancing along those rainbow infinities conjuring new, sustainable stories to guide us all.
A fellow dancing ceremonialist wrote this poem about Jody. It says it all. Thanks Virginia Carhart Haedt.
A Selfish Poem about Jody
there is one less woman
to welcome me into the sisterhood of age.
one less grown up
to lock eyes with
when I have moved from rage to laughter
one less guardian at the temple gates
one less rattle, one less tambourine, one less gypsy
one less soft bosom and one less reassuring voice
one less intimate Witness of God
Only you could call in
The Divine Present
on my wedding day!
others could call to the Gods of our ancestors
But the Beloved recognized your voice
and so accepted the invitation
and is still accepting it
Seven years later
Our relationship Jody Levy
came in nods and gestures
souls recognizing each other
in struggle and in bliss
across battlefields of striving
and oceans of acceptance.
In another story, we are the old Jewish ladies together
clucking our tongues
but lighting the candles
helping each other and everyone else
figure this shit out
Allow me my overwhelmingly selfish tears
for the woman who is no longer
The Embodied Light Priestess of Go For It
downloading Ancient Star Being Geometry
translating it patiently for us mortals
with her colored pencils
and gold pens
to hang on our fucking refrigerators
her passionate poet’s voice
enough hopeful years ahead of me on the path
to clue me in, someday
when we had time to talk about
Allow me to grieve for the wisdom, for the Crone!
Do not fill that space yet with others, for I know their names as well as you do
let me long for HER
let me feel
the exquisite emptiness
that was her unique
dark crow on the dance floor
as well as dove in the rafters
and in that emptiness, when it hurts enough
listen more closely
to the whispers
into the fire
while I can
love all of you more deeply
love all of me more fiercely
yearn for God more publicly
my own throat
my own throat
– for Jody Levy