I remember the first time I said, “I want to go to Mystery School!” It was the fall of 2000, after I attended the Fall Equinox/Feast of Persephone at Diana’s Grove. I had no idea that decision would be so life-changing. In Mystery School I learned about communication and leadership and creating healthy relationships – in a way that allowed me to immediately apply and practice what I was learning. Mystery School changed me, made me a better person. Five years later I found myself saying, “I want to do a Rites of Passage year!” Although I had seen six Rites teams go through the process and “graduate” during a Rites of Passage weekend, I had no idea what this process would really mean for me.

Arriving on the land for my Rites of Passage weekend I felt a great deal of relief. My team had worked hard throughout the year, developing the necessary skills to plan and present an entire weekend. We were so ready! Yet I also felt surprisingly nervous. I knew I would be supported by the staff and by the folks who had already completed a Rites year. But I also knew there would be “guests” – people who had never been to Diana’s Grove, who had never even been to a ritual. People I didn’t know. Scariest of all – I had invited my mom!

Now I have to say that my mom isn’t scary. At that time she was 82 years old, and just about the friendliest person you could imagine meeting in line at a grocery store. She is healthy and active and cheerful, and has great relationships, mostly. Ours just wasn’t so great. She seemed to have such easy relationships with my four brothers, but I’d heard her say once that raising a girl was different. I felt like the oddball. Often our conversations had an antagonistic tone as we each held to our differing beliefs. She didn’t understand my interest in earth-based spirituality and definitely didn’t understand Diana’s Grove.

Mom was raised in a Methodist family that read the bible daily and practiced Christian values. She has always been a churchgoer. As I became more involved with Mystery School, she became more suspicious. I tried to show her how much I had grown in my communication and leadership skills, that I was becoming a better person, but my attempts were met with questions about pagans and witches and “false gods”. I believe she suspected Diana’s Grove of being cultish, possibly dangerous. As much as she tried to hear my perspective, she was obviously worried that my faith in God was diminishing.

Why did I invite her? Well, she’s my mom and I love her. I hoped that the weekend might help Mom understand Diana’s Grove better, and maybe even understand me better.

Mom arrived and immediately began chatting comfortably with anyone who spoke to her or even looked her way. It was great to see her mix so easily with the group. She was happy to see me and was obviously trying to give the place a chance. Mom was impeccably supportive. She participated, smilingly, in each session that I was involved in. But I knew the hardest part was yet to come. We were headed directly toward “the big ritual”!

“In Mystery School I learned about communication and leadership and creating healthy relationships – in a way that allowed me to immediately apply and practice what I was learning. Mystery School changed me, made me a better person.”

I had no idea what the Rites of Passage ritual would be or how my mom would handle it, but I had decided that I was going to completely surrender myself to the process. That included trusting my community to take good care of my mom. As I prepared for the ritual, stepping intentionally into the role of Psyche, I began to feel a sort of woozy detachment from reality that I had never experienced before. I felt as if I were floating above myself, watching events unfold.

I wafted down to the barn with the rest of my Rites Team and encountered the world of the veiled dead. I was vaguely aware that my mother was among them. After encountering Persephone we journeyed on the land, still haunted by voices of the underworld, and made our way to the Sun Pavilion. Pan greeted us there and encouraged us to give up, to turn back. I particularly remember the moment when I chose to leave the warmth and safety of that fire, the engaging tone of Pan’s voice and his beautiful flute. I knew that I was headed for the rest of the group, headed toward a confrontation with Aphrodite who would want me to relinquish my power and return to my old self. A chill of excited anticipation and a heavy sense of dread played on me simultaneously.

I won’t recount all the details of the time I spent at the Main Ritual Area, but I will tell you that I met Aphrodite. I claimed my power, and she ended my life; at least the life that I had led up to that point. I lay shrouded on the ground while my support team called me back to life, my mother whispering in my ear again and again, “Wake up, wake up and claim yourself.” Of course I did. The group sang to us, rejoicing in our “rebirth”, and the ritual ended. I walked back to the barn arm in arm with Mom, beginning to come back to earth with a sense that some real shifts had taken place for me.

The weekend ended, and Mom hadn’t thrown a fit or accused me (or anyone) of witchcraft or devil worship or anything! We rode home together, and talked non-stop on that three-hour drive. We shared our personal values, we talked about communication, we discussed spirituality in great depth. And we really listened to each other, without judgment or interruption. It felt to me like we were seeing each other for the first time, and I believe that was her experience as well.

I stepped into the story and became Psyche. I lit the lamp and shone a light on perhaps my closest relationship in this lifetime. I claimed my treasures, my strengths and my values as my own. I gave my life to my mother and she awakened me. The Rites of Passage ritual allowed me to open my heart to her. I became immediately more patient with Mom, and somehow she could see me more clearly, hear about my values and beliefs with more understanding. Our relationship feels whole now. We talk on the phone daily, share meals often. She is an important and integral part of my life.