She came to me again

Life has a unique way of redirecting your plans. The night of the trip, I consumed a bit less than what I had originally planned. A continuation from my last trip that included intentions to: swallow the globe’s pain, my loved ones’ pain, any more pain my body is undergoing. Anastasia has been dealing with respiratory infections that unnerve me, this too I prayed to make go away- humbly asking Divinity to guide me on how to do so. Along some more personal things. 
Back track at least two weeks, my insomnia has been excruciatingly aggressive. More so, my reptilian friend has been waking up in the middle of the night. Her last attempt pushing so hard against her lid, she nearly broke it. In case you do not know, she’s over 7’ in length. The night of the trip, Anastasia was laying on the center of my bed inside of her sack. I laid with her and asked her how I could become a better mother, a better sister, a better companion. She is not my pet I learned long ago. I tried heating her cold skin with my hands to no avail-but I knew that my loving energy has the capacity to do so. 
The nausea came in waves, breathing through it; being thankful how it continues to teach me breath work. Soon thereafter my ancestral Spirit Guide would possess my being, once again to show me the way. The same feminine force that visited me last trip to heal vaginal injuries I had sustained from numerous rapes and sodomy. She'd scrape my vagina with an agate stone and affectionately hush my tears while she scraped the buried pain I had suppressed with repeated, superficial distractions over the years. She’d tenderly guide my hand and emanate light on these old injuries. “Estas bien mijita, shshshshshsh, vayase, vaya, vaya.” Mending the violated trust; repairing breakage others had caused, and soothing the stunted little girl in me. I cried for my innocence lost, yet with her loving, saintly hands she’d use mine to brand a cooling light. She would utilize my body as an obedient vehicle to work her healing powers. 
My Priestess of Light, Warrior of Darkness. Such an authoritative, fierce tone she has with primordial hands. Her light more ancient, than all of the galaxies and their descendants. She’d use the stones I had laid out on my bed, as I’d sit nude in the lotus position and rattle them in cupped hands to charge their undiscovered magic. Breathtakingly, iridescent hues of whites and baby pinks would emanate from my hands, as she would continue rattling and throwing them on Anastasia. All while she commandingly chanted, “vayase, vaya, sanasanasana, sanate, sana, sana, vayase.” Hues of mint greens and sky blues floated above me. My bedroom inundated with ripples of translucent colors pouring from out of my puppeteered fingertips.
My body would be nudged to go pee, and this ritual would continue for the next few hours. Suck in disease and infection, pee it out. Replenish with healing water: Rejuvenate, rehabilitate, refuel…repeat. Praying for everyone, praying for my loved ones. The healing between my snake and me would shift us around the room with Anastasia eventually crawling off the bed onto my pull up bar. I’m laid on the bed, as my revered Sorceress worked on my gums with shells, cleansing a painful area where I suspected I had a cavity. She skillfully cleansed the inside of my mouth. Drooling I was, as if I was being worked on by a dentist. She then moved to my eyeball region, poking me with the point of a shell to repair my vision. Whether literal or figurative, all I know is that my eyeballs would continue being sore throughout the following day. 
The stones wisely moved along my body, assessing contamination, damage, and injuries. No doctor I have ever visited has scanned me so thoroughly. I had been having problems digesting food. These treasures I used to think of as a little kid, were now moving along my stomach; one on my belly button as she poked, incised, and tenderly massaged.  “Parasitos, pudridez…obstruida estas, niña.”  Ominous tone I heard, but felt her experienced confidence, that she would indeed annihilate these infections. The Almighty Mushroom working along silently, revealing to me through obscure, demonic visions. Cartoonish teeth, mischievous beings devouring my insides. No fear. Breathe through it. Have faith. “Vayase, vaya, sanasanasana, sanate, sana, sana, vayase. ’’Vayase, vaya, sanasanasana, sanate, sana, sana, vayase. Shshshshshsh.” These visions dissolving into blooming, pastel fluorescence. On and on this chanting went. Little did I realize this voice was pouring out of my lips. 
Again to the bathroom I went, coming back to refuel my body with the blessed water. Dimly lit room, and the stone now caressed Anastasia’s snout. I could see from the passenger side, this voluminous woman built with unquestionable strength, commanded absolute reverence and demanded captivated admiration. The snake mesmerized by this charmer with her intoxicating sounds and fluid movements. Something wet fell on my foot. The snake was dripping mucous! My hand stroked Anastasia’s illness away. Her monsters had dissolved. My saint’s caress optimized the snake’s body with radiating light. Healing, growth, and metamorphosis. Singularity and duality embracing. The snake and me=entheogenic poetry.
On she continued with my room and me. Mementoes of loved ones’ suicides. Contaminants in the air, floating. My blind vision showed me evil darkness. Dive deeper, let's go. Generational curses. Let's keep backtracking. I’m pulling stuff out of my dressers, closet. Plush animals, pictures thrown by my door. “Afuera!” "Despoja, mas despojos, niña." Palo Santo again relit, the smoke sweetening the still air. I end up in bed again, as she continued working over my ovaries with fervor. If I had a cyst or a tumor, I will never know. Cleansing what seemed cancerous, until she was satisfied with her poking, sraping, and prodding. No fear, only faith. I trust you Blessed Mother. A few more questions, answers easily revealed. “I am your servant, your student, your child. Please teach me how to become a master.” 
My last ones, praying out loud. “Where do I go?” “Who am I?” 
“She asks me, “Para quien quieres la Maestria?” Who do you want to be a master for?
I sincerely respond, “para mi.” For myself. 
Through what seemed like a captivatingly spinning Merkaba cube, she revealed her face and whispered this: “Curandera, koooo-raaaaaaahn-de-rah, Curandera. Tu eres curandera. Kooooo-raaaaaaaahn-de-rah.” Over the years I had heard the word, but never known what it really meant. As my session came to a close, I thanked what I am certain was Divinity in all its glory, once again peed out my toxins I had swallowed on others’ behalf and my own, refueled once again, vowing I will continue this journey…and laid down. Anastasia and I slept soundly.