A Return to Mount Shasta Sacred Feminine Awakening

crystalreikigirl
Sep 20
6 min read

Updated: 3 days ago

Snow-capped Mount Shasta rising into a clear blue sky, surrounded by lush green forest. A sacred mountain known for its spiritual presence and healing energy.

A Return to Mount Shasta Sacred Feminine Awakening

The Crone's Fire

and the

Mother's Embrace

When the Sacred Feminine wants something done, she’ll do it herself, that’s how she knows it will be done correctly, without hesitation, and with the deep distinction that she is speaking directly to you.

A simple knowing of a retreat my friends Simone and Krista were hosting at Mount Shasta reminded me of a promise I made to this Sacred Mountain last time I was with her.

She was drawing me in again, to the unknown, to a medicine that kept its counsel. I circled the retreat like a curious seeker. What was calling me back? How was I being pulled in by that silent whisper? It felt ancient and precise: a sacred calling I couldn’t place, not loud but insistently true. I kept checking… asking, reaching, hesitating. The voice was not a demand but a summons, and the summons required listening before answering. The Mountain calls, she beckons you home; you know the way.

That’s how I got here, one ordinary call with my friend Simone, a sister I speak with often about life, Spirit, and the Mystery, became the portal. A regular evening call with her became a Divine calling, and I answered. As we were talking on the phone, I was again asking, for the umpteenth time, about the retreat. Simone was multitasking, and was also texting our friend Krista. And Krista, in that exact same moment, was also on the phone with our mutual friend Robin. (Women, we’re funny like that. Our brains are big and we can do hard shit! LOL)

Somewhere in the middle of it all, Simone texted Krista: “Laurine’s thinking about going.” Krista relayed it to Robin. And Robin, who had been on the fence herself, answered with the words that cracked it all open for me: “Well, if Laurine goes, I’ll go.” That was it! The Spark I needed. My Hell Yes! I spoke it out loud: hell yeah, I’m in. Four women, multitasking across Spirit and cell phones, weaving interdimensional threads into one single moment of Divine timing. The web tightened, the path lit up, and the Feminine whispered: Now.

Threads within threads.

The Sacred Feminine weaving her web.

I am super excited, but this is not a new love, it is a return. I was in Mount Shasta in 2019, a time when anxiety was my shadow. I came to the mountain ragged and came home with new bones. Panther Meadows held me. I drank from the living spring where the waters bubble up from the earth. I felt the calm waters of her healing frequency wash through me. The mountain, the Divine Sacred Mother, is a being who opens on her own terms, only when the elders say it’s time. She is alive. She is fierce. She changed me then, and I knew someday I would be back.

And, I know she’s going to change me again.

Now as the retreat is approaching, my phone begins to remember for me: photos from six years ago, light frozen in time. I looked… and the dates matched, exact same dates, six years later. What the fuck are the chances? That synchronicity felt like a nod over time, a seam the mountain stitched back into my life. Her magic is personal, unique to each traveler, but for me, that first pilgrimage was a rupture: the beginning of a deep transformation, the emergence of my Wisdom, my Wise Woman, my Wild Woman, my Medicine, my Crone.

I didn’t even see it coming…

It began like a small, relentless drumbeat that over the years since that initial visit turned into thunder: strength arriving where I had tolerated weakness; courage visiting where I’d once flinched. My “fuck you” grew louder. My roar caught fire. My stance rooted deeper in the earth. My medicine began to stir. I was entering the Crone and didn’t even have a name for her yet. I was being evolved as much as I was evolving…

I was being initiated.

She seemed to come out of nowhere, this Crone. I mean clearly “she” knew she was coming… I on the other hand, had no fucking clue. I didn’t invite her; she was an unwanted visitor that had every intention of staying… FOREVER! I wasn’t particularly stoked she was here. I denied her access for as long as I could, kept her at bay and often hid from her while she seemed to stalk me at every turn, always there, watching… waiting.

The initial visit in 2019, something I thought was “my” idea, seemed to have better reverence now in hindsight. I know now, the Mountain, the Sacred Mother, my Inner Medicine, they all sat in conspiracy. They plotted and schemed like midwives and alchemists, not tender but true: to transform me into a version I did not yet recognize. My Wise Crone, my Medicine Woman, my Wild, they began brewing… yes, brewing. This was not the Maiden with perfumed ease. This was not the Mother with a tidy plan. The Crone arrived like a bat out of hell, roaring for her light and demanding respect.

Aww fuck!

Do not cross her. Do not assume shortcuts will suffice. Back in line, she says. Do it again until you get it right. I raised you better than that. Your medicine is earned, and she points her finger at you.

She demands all.

Reality bites!

The years since that visit have demanded everything of me. I am now every howl. I am every scream for relief. I am every tear shed for what I’m leaving behind. I carry every dream that never ripened. I am every hope that hung on someone else’s willingness to change so I could move. I am the silence after the scream. I left behind future realities that were not mine to live, to walk into unknown terrain with no map and only the luminous compass of what felt true. I am the map written in scars, guiding me where no paper map could ever lead. I am the wild pulse of a future I have not yet met, but who already knows my name. I hold the deep knowing that nothing lost was ever truly mine, and everything real cannot be taken.

Your Wise Woman is uncontrolled and unrestrained. She is wild and mad, not angry, refined in her madness. She will settle one day, but only after she knows we have walked it all. Only after she is certain there will be no more backsliding. Only when she trusts you will move like a Panther. Only when she trusts you will stop at nothing to live whole. Then, she will rest in the garden: making tinctures, brewing teas, braiding sweetgrass, smoking her herbs, and getting high on life, love, and freedom… with not even two fucks to give about you or your opinions of her.

She’ll be free: white hair, long skirt, bare feet.

The emergence is real. Every woman meets this threshold. Some only skim the surface, content with what they’re handed. Others, like myself, dive deep, deep into waters we can’t see through, murky with silt. We go down until our feet find the mud, linger for a moment to feel its truth, and then push off, rocketing back to the surface to tell others our story of how we got there and what we saw.

We do this because we are storytellers, medicine women, healers, light bearers, cosmic code holders, Dream Weavers. We go where others are too afraid to go, so we can taste the medicine and know how to administer it. We dive into the depths because the thought of a half-lived life is unbearable. We do this to live our purpose… to honor what we promised when the Goddess was handing out her divine plan. To know, in our bones, that we tried… that we did everything we could.

No regrets. No half-living.

So I am going back. You might call it crazy, I call it necessary. There are pieces of me there, parts unknown, parts I need, and parts I want. I am taking what she offers, and I will not look back.

Can I come back wilder than I am now? It seems impossible. But imagine it: wilder, truer, more dangerous in the holiness of my own knowing.

And yet, I can already feel another version of me waiting.

So I go back, not to revisit who I was, but to meet who I am becoming. I go because there are still parts of me resting in her stones, waiting to be claimed. I go because the mountain called me, and I said yes.

This time, I will not hesitate. I cannot live a half-life.

I fucking can’t.

In sacred service,

Laurine Tonkin

Intuitive Medium · Angelic Channel · Energy Healer · Reiki Master Teacher ~ Mentor

www.LaurineTonkin.com

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