On October 16, 2025 you took your last breath.

That same day, 2600 miles away, I came across a drawing of a dove in an archway on the artist Megan Donegan’s website. The following day, I happened to open an old calendar book and saw the words “Lonesome Dove” etched in my own handwriting from years before on the back page.

I believe that when a dear loved one crosses the threshold of death, while the act may appear lonesome, the impact is collective. Like the ripple of a stone, with one crossing everyone undergoes a transition.

So much energy and emotion has been swirling—alive, electric, undeniable. It’s clear we’re in the midst of another Reveal Event—just like 2020, 9/11, and other emotionally charged collective experiences that shake us loose from the conditioning of the familiar. (It’s no accident we refer to these events as numbers. Numbers are codes, and codes unlock…)

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on a quiet truth: when we become witnesses to our more difficult bodily sensations and emotions, we transcend them. We step out of their grip, no longer swept away by life’s tidal force.

Ever since I was a little girl, I would ask myself, “What would I take if my house were burning down?” Three nights ago at 11pm, that reverie became a startling reality.