November & December 2018 was filled with much reflection & contemplation about what 2019 might look like & hold for me personally as well as for Evolution Inc. I spent much of November planning a January 2019 workshop & intentionally mapping out 2019 months so that I might be better prepared to manage all the different aspects of my life. I had the strongest sense that 2019 would bring something that would completely transform the way we perceive things. That we would be required to stand up & be counted. That we would be asked to rise up & take territory. That we would be required even though we might not be ready.
In December, we departed for 2 break aways & although I was feeling slightly spaced out… I was resting & not focussing on business, clients, social media marketing, design etc. I was intentionally switched off & focusing on just clearing my headspace.
As we were returning home on 23 December 2018, my mom called to alert us to a tragedy that was unfolding back home in Cape town. My 26 year old sister had taken her own life…..
…. NOTHING prepared me for that moment. The initial reaction, I remember so clearly was complete & utter shock. All the blood drained from my head… & in fact my entire body & I felt as though I was existing in a dream. We still had 2 hours left to drive before we reached home & suddenly, my entire life felt like it had come to a grinding halt.
The next few hours are a blur of tears, questions, support for my mom & dad, more questions, looking at my sisters lifeless body on the cold tile floor, too many hugs from family, friends & neighbours, more questions & more questions. I went to bed at about 2am that morning.
In the days & weeks that followed my sisters death, I have come to realise so much. Im still so unsure of how to structure this blog post, so I really am just putting the words down because it seems the simplest & most uncomplicated thing to do right now. I am also unsure of how many posts it will take to have all my thoughts down so I will just keep writing until I feel theres not much more left to say.
Writing seems like the obvious step. My sister was a writer. In fact, she was a journalism graduate & a lyricist. I haven’t spoken about her before… my sister. So today, I will do that. Tell you about her…
My sister was born on 13 March 1992. I think I may have been about 9 years old when my mom & dad told me that they were thinking about having another baby. My mom had struggled for 10 years to conceive me & it would be the same with my sister. We waited to be blessed with her & when I was 11 years old, Stacey was born.
My sister was not an ordinary little girl. Extremely sensitive, much like my own kids, Stacey had a huge purpose. Far too starry for this cruel world & affected deeply by injustice, cruelty, human judgement… Stacey radiated love. She attended junior & high school, just blending into the crowd outwardly but exuding a light that touched so many lives. This is often the case isn’t it. Someone is there & we don’t fully realise just how much value they add by just their mere presence until they are not there anymore. Stacey just blended. Much like my son does… hiding her brilliance to protect herself from the world. Brings to mind for me a verse from John 17:16 They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Although sometimes socially awkward & unsure of herself, drawing on her comedic nature to fill some space… my sister had the ability to light up a room. It was only after her death that people fully acknowledged her light… because isn’t that normally what happens with someone who has such a profound gift? Stacey had a way with people. she could lift you from your circumstance by casting light for you to focus on. Even if that light was a spotlight that blinded her.
She loved unconditionally, without judgment. I think she read people at soul level & often saw peoples spirits rather than what they were projecting into the world. It was her gifting. We were not always able to see this about her because she hid the parts of herself that SHE deemed imperfect. Although we are all imperfect… because she viewed us all at spirit level… she only saw the good in people. I think sometimes her eyes were closed to her own inner beauty. To her strength. To her ability to feel. This ability is a gift but if not understood or balanced, can feel like a burden. FEELING is not easy. I see it with my daughter. That sense that she feels all the emotions in the room & it exhausts her. That sense that she reads peoples innermost fears, insecurities, sadness, anxiety, happiness, confidence, lack of, hang ups… and has NO idea where to even begin processing that. Processing is required so that you do not take on these complex energies that you are able to feel as your own…
I never actually realised that Stacey had this gifting… because she never spoke about it… at all. Well not to me anyway. Although these are conversations I have daily as part of my coaching practice, I am not sure my sister was even aware that THIS is what she may have been dealing with. Her Gifting. I think it all overwhelmed my sister. I can imagine it may have scared her. Feeling all of it. Not knowing why her body groaned with intensity that she did not understand. I remember when I started coaching & that ‘sense’ arose in me. When I realised that I could feel emotions in the room that didn’t necessarily belong to me… it was very frightening because my body didn’t understand what to do with it. If I was afraid… imagine someone not trained to process? In my own life, when I am not fully immersed in my gift, when I tune out… my body also becomes overwhelmed because I am not turned on for processing.
My sister was a rapper. An emcee. A femcee (female emcee) She lived an amazingly fearless & full life. Experiencing, living, loving, conquering, flying, soaring, embracing, projecting, inspiring, motivating, leading, transforming. She had another persona on which she drew to express some of what she experienced. Whether they were her emotions or not. We will never know which were hers, which belonged to others. Some people say they had a sense. I don’t believe anyone truly understood. She wore all these complexities as her own… and I believe that this may have been part of the struggle. You see… an an empath, you can’t own what is not yours, even though the attraction to do so is overwhelming! It will drown you. You can recognise it. Name it or help its owner name it. Process it or help its owner process it…. but you cannot OWN it. You have to let it go because that kind of weight pulls you down eventually.
After my sisters death, I saw the parts of her that she kept hidden. the parts that were her gift but that also caused her harm. The parts of her that helped people but carried aspects of peoples pain. The parts of her that provided light but that needed charging. The parts of her that poured out & even leaked love but was not being re-filled the way it needed to be. The parts of her that only God could soothe but some religious institutions don’t recognise. The parts of her that are spirit & human conflicting if not understood. The parts that are meant to be one but that the world dumbs down. The parts that we need to integrate & CAN be done!
You see, my sister was a rapper. She was FIRE on stage & projected an image. That image I think conflicted who she was at her core. It was a projection of some of the tough stuff going on inside but did not allow for that stuff to be processed. For me it looked like something she could control, the mask… but I don’t think she was able to. Controlling the mask is hard because it eventually inhibits your true sight. Prevents you from breathing. It catches up with you. The masks. I know because I have been there. projecting to the point where you are not sure where the mask ends & reality begins… and awareness becomes like death. If you are alone… even more so.
In the end, I think it all broke her. Numbing her pain, living her dream, projecting, loving, giving, feeling unappreciated. Unrecognised, Misunderstood. Broken (as we all are) & losing hope that someone might understand. Reaching out in the wrong places. Rapping but not talking. Acting but not processing. Numbing but not acknowledging the feelings. Feeling lonely but not alone. Loved but not understood. Lost but not dead. Dead but alive. Visible but invisible. Full but empty. Busy but unfulfilled. In the world but not of the world.
My sister was a light. A light that became overwhelmed by the darkness & took her life to free her soul. Not of the world & therefor out of the world. I wish it could have been different. For those having these thoughts… it CAN be different. There is hope. This however is my sisters story. These are my thoughts. They may not be the reality… but for now… they are all I have. My sister is free… flying high & forever a part of my reality. My everyday, my every moment, my every experience, my every regret, my every promise, my every dream, my every accomplishment & future endeavours…. my very fibre.
I love you sissy… Rest gently little one #forever26