The Sacredness of the In-Between

This post continues the Egypt Codes — reflections and transmissions from a pilgrimage that profoundly shifted my understanding of consciousness, history, and my own soul. If you’re new here, start with Part One.

Egypt Codes: Part Seven

Last time we were together, I shared about the sacred and very unglamorous beginning of this day in Egypt… the horrible cramps, mummy tummy, the emergency pharmacy stop, and the very real possibility that I might end up pooping my pants in the middle of a sacred site. 😂

What’s funny is that this was the perfect initiation into what came next.

Down into the Osiris Shaft for a private visit we went.

If you’re not familiar, Osiris is connected to death, the underworld, and the afterlife. And the shaft itself is exactly what it sounds like: a descent down into the earth through a series of ladders and chambers beneath the Giza plateau. As we approached it, I could feel that this was not going to be a casual sightseeing moment. Let’s be real - was any of this trip?! 🤪

The energy was deep. Ancient. Heavy. Layered. Sacred. And I was about to willingly climb down those ladders into the underbelly of it all and come face to face with Darkness itself. The threshold of all thresholds.

And that’s really what it was.

There are moments in life that are a crossing between worlds. Birth, death, heartbreak, healing… moments where you are not who you were before, but you are not yet fully who you are becoming either. The Osiris Shaft carried that kind of energy. It felt like a portal into the in-between.

As we walked toward the entrance, I could feel myself getting quieter. The whole landscape around the pyramids already felt charged beyond words, but this was different. This was more intimate and concentrated. I was pulled more inward. We were about to descend into the earth itself, and everything in me knew that whatever happened down there was going to be important.

The first ladder wasn’t so bad. There was still sunlight pouring in through the doorway and a window up above, which brought a sense of orientation. But as we moved deeper, that began to change. The deeper we went, the more the fear in the space became palpable. 

Not my own fear necessarily, though there were moments on those ladders where I could feel it trying to take hold. I was more aware of the layers of collective fear present. Yes, from the people in our group… but even more so from the many Souls who had encountered this shaft for thousands of years before me.

The shaft was cloaked with the frequency of death. It was interesting to navigate.

Some people were really struggling with the descent. It was tight, straight down, and intense. You had to move slowly down the ladder, one rung at a time, placing each foot with intention, breathing through it, and trusting yourself enough to keep going.

By the time we reached the second chamber of the shaft, now about 60 - 70 feet into the Earth, a lot was already happening. I was one of the last of our group of 50 to arrive in this second chamber.

There were caverns carved into the rock, two of which held sarcophagi. There was dim light from a few bulbs, but it was mostly dark. Just enough to see where you were stepping.

People were toning and meditating. Some were silently crying. Others were moving through really big emotional processes, with some screaming and sobbing. The whole room felt thick and alive, like multiple realities were happening at once. I could feel all of it. The fear, the emotion, the history, the intensity of the underworld energy…but I could also feel that something sacred was unfolding there, too.

And I’ll be honest… this was a moment that challenged me to stretch beyond judgment.

There is a way that a lot of spiritual people and healing spaces operate that has never resonated with me.

There were people in the room doing what I would call the theatrics of healing. Big movements like throwing their hands through the air, pulling things out of people’s energy fields, making sounds and whistles, trying to shift or change what was happening for someone else.

I could see it, but even deeper, I could feel it.

Not in a judgmental way now… but in a very clear, embodied knowing. That energy always holds the essence of performance to me. Like something is being done to someone… rather than something sacred being allowed to unfold through them.

Underneath it all, I could feel the deeper pattern.

The belief that a healer is healing someone else, or that something is wrong and needs to be fixed, or that the person having the experience can’t move through it on their own without intervention.

And that just isn’t how I see it.

To me, that kind of approach is rooted in a subtle form of control or of trying to manage someone else’s process. And honestly… a lot of the time, it’s tied to ego and the need to be the one doing something…the one helping, the one making the transformation happen.

But standing in that chamber, I felt even more anchored in what I know to be true.

Real healing doesn’t come from someone else doing something to you.

It comes from what happens within you when you are met in a space that is safe enough, grounded enough, and true enough for your body to open in its own way.

The most powerful way to hold space is not to intervene.

It is to be so deeply rooted in your own connection to God… so anchored in trust… that you don’t need to do anything at all. You trust the body. You trust the process. You trust that whatever is unfolding is not wrong. And you allow it.

So that’s what I did.

I didn’t step in. I didn’t try to change anything. I just witnessed. And when my intuition pulled me to a different experience, I followed it. I walked over to one of the sarcophagi and placed my hand on it.

The moment I did, I was gone. Not literally, obviously. Well…who knows, actually. For all I know, it was literally. 😂 

I immediately dropped into this deep inner state, this interdimensional reality. Tears started streaming down my face because of the beauty I was suddenly immersed in, and I became profoundly aware of everything happening around me.

And then my attention was pulled to the ladder.

A woman was descending who was absolutely terrified. She was sobbing as she made her way down, incredibly slowly. Below her at the foot of the ladder was another woman, steady and grounded, guiding her with the sweetest voice. “One step at a time.” “You’ve got it.” “I’m here.” “Keep going.”

And as I listened to that exchange with my eyes closed and my heart wide open, a message began to unfold. It was as if I were no longer witnessing a woman come down a ladder. I was witnessing a birth. The woman moving down the ladder simultaneously became both mother and emerging child.

I could feel the support in it. The tenderness, the encouragement, the steady presence of someone holding her through her fear instead of trying to remove it. And in that moment, I saw so clearly that this is what happens at thresholds.

When we are born into this life, there is a team - doctors, family members, friends, layers and layers of support. When we leave this life, there is a team - doctors, family members, friends, layers and layers of support. Sometimes in the physical, always in the unseen.

And when we move through the in-between moments… the ones that feel like everything is falling apart, or everything is changing, or we don’t know who we are anymore…

There is a team.

I felt it in every part of my body. Not as a concept or as a comforting idea but as something real. It hit me like a ton of bricks. We are never doing these crossings alone. And what struck me the most was that the support didn’t remove her fear. It didn’t make the ladder disappear or let her skip the process. It met her in it. It walked with her through it.

That was enough.

Standing there, crying with my hand on that stone, I realized how often we forget this. How often we think we have to do everything on our own. How often we isolate when things get hard. How often we believe that if we’re struggling, it means something is wrong… instead of recognizing that we might just be in the middle of a threshold. We are simply just crossing into something different.

And… there is always a team.

Not metaphorically. Not as a nice spiritual idea. I mean really. There is support around us that most of us have been conditioned not to perceive. Support from people, from Spirit, from the unseen realms. Support from love itself. It is especially present at the thresholds… especially at the moments when we feel the most vulnerable, the most cracked open, the most unsure…

That support is there.

We may not always know how to access it. We may not always trust it. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.

Remember, my love, we are in the midst of a collective threshold right now.

Humanity is in the in-between. The old ways are dissolving, and the new hasn’t fully formed yet. And what we experience on that macro level is almost always mirrored in our own lives.

You might be feeling that in your own way. In between versions of yourself. In between relationships. In between clarity and the unknown. In between what was… and what’s coming next. If that’s you, just remember this: you have a team. Even if you can’t see it. Even if you don’t fully trust it yet.

You can ask for support. You can speak to God. You can open yourself to being guided, held, and shown the next step. And whatever you need will be presented to you.

That moment in the shaft changed something in me. It reminded me that I don’t have to grip so tightly when I’m in the unknown and that I am not ever doing anything alone. And for someone who has felt tremendously alone for a great portion of her life, this felt understanding was everything.

My eyes gently opened, misty and glistening. Full of love, understanding, and a direct connection to God. And just as that was beginning to really land… It was my turn to climb down the final ladder into the sacred waters below…into complete and utter darkness, 100 feet into the Earth.

What met me there shook me to my core.  

I’ll take you there with me next.