1.4 The Final Gestational Quarter

Monday December 8, 2025

A stream of Consciousness

Welcome beautiful ones. 

How fast a heart turns — This past year I have experienced the death of three matriarchs. I have wept greatly at the alter of grief — I met a snake bathing in the garden with our rosemary bush. I am continuing to work with my family, as a caretaker. A journey that has lead me to and fro northern jersey for the past 4 months. Picking up lost time while my attention was placed elsewhere. I gained a mentor who provides guardrails for my journey as a tattoo artist !! A relationship I am profoundly grateful for. Now, the year is wrapping up and I have to let go of hefty cloaks of worn identities. They are sitting in a pile in my trunk, waiting to be dumped in a charity bin. I am being called to release, surrender, and trust. 

The next call to action rests in the palms of death. She cloaks herself in the ashes of all that is lost and forgotten. The grand tale of resurrection re-occurring once more. Rearing her head in the shape of a mirror. To be an usher of transformation. Nursing the portal into otherworld — I am deepening my relationship with nature and realigning my sensitivity as a natural state. In a world that is drifting farther and farther away from the roots, such roots that are aching to be tended, to be secured as the anchors into fertile soil. The roots that allow of our desires, our dreams, or visions and prophecy to be birthed. It all goes  back to the womb. 

There is a tenacious fear that nips at my heels. I assume it only a natural pathway to be afraid when stepping into the unknown. After all our systems are more fragile than we realize. Our modern world of convenience has outcasted grief. For those who are paralyzed by fear. Those who are experiencing the power of griefs weight on their systems (bodies). Whether it be visceral reactions or are winding down a river of emotions. 

I urge you to face this with bravery; even if your voice shakes, even if tears well up in your eyes, or bile gets caught in your throat. It it time to awaken the inner child and let them lead with an open heart. Resurrection is the way of the plant realm. The way of the ancients and it is not a mystical as it may seem. Mysticism is found in the mundane, in intention; in a perfect cup of coffee; in the fact that snow exists; in laughter with a friend. The amount of suffering that exists is profound. To watch 90 year old women in agony as their bodies are held within the embrace of the dying process, feeling helpless while we figure out what to do, what is the right thing to do?  The weight of making a decision for intervention is heavy!! It can certainly cause some chips in the heart. Jagged edges. 

I would really love to learn indigenous death practices. To see how that may be infused into modern comfort care. That right now consists mainly of morphine. I have a friend who died in his sleep 3 years ago and I cannot help but think what a blessed way to transition. (As far as I know) he experienced little to no pain and his dreams directed his crossover delicately. Which is a far better fate from the endless cycle of morphine doses. That start from .25mg q 6 hrs to 1mg q.2. When someone is dying naturally time stops. You enter right into a portal of care. Waiting for the impending rattle. 

You see when someone passes, their body slowly shuts down. It takes about 17 muscles to swallow and when your time is impending they will eventually stop working. Saliva and medication pulls on the voice box to create a gurgle in the breath pattern. This is called the death rattle. That is the final stage. 

In life death takes many forms. You may be a person like me where it manifests physically quite often within your life. But, this medicine may also meet you in the loss of a job, a relationship, friendship, leaving home, or phases of life. These crossroads that bridge us into the unknown. Death may even reach you by proxy, you may not be particularly close to the departed but the event may trigger you deeply. Awakening pathways of traumas or disappointments, (ie. Never having stability, or grieving a relationship to mother/father/sister/ etc.) 

I have been wrapped up in the blanket of grief, seemingly for the entire year. I have been thoughtfully revealed a support system. Lately I have been overwhelmed with the support and kindness. It makes me a little vulnerable.Right now, I am busy, curating honey into the therapeutic healing container I had always hoped she would be. Thank you for those who have gifted me with patience as we took form. I am going to be burning the layer of unjust persecution, the witch wounding in time.  In celebration of the first year together and to bring tattooing into the world I am putting together a flash day on 1/11/2026!!

Held in my wee studio by the sacred waters of the bay. I am delighted the bridge this medicine into the world. 

I am about to embark on travels with my partner; near and far.  although I am nervous (my knees are a bit wobbly) as I take the first steps in this direction, I am excited. I have been dreaming of this since childhood. Well this all has been a deep seeded dream. I was recently told that this path is the one of least resistance. Even in such excitement, that nagging grief gets carried in, much like the wind. I am losing something here. My home, my life that has been built, my family. My family is especially challenging due to the guilt (or fear) that they will feel abandoned or I may not be around if something happens.. We have had our fair share of intense challenges, illnesses, etc. Either way I am unsure where the following 365 days will lead — But I will do as I always do, and lead with a tender heart. In times of doubt it is my duty to be reminded of my dear friend, pride. Pride for all that has been forged from the ashes. 

I have been working with the earth, and all that has been buried. Layers to the ancient, the resting bones of the forgotten, the fossils, all the false starts and burning bushes, the outcasting, the neglected, the feared, the seen and the shadows, the treasured, the loved, the tools, the pain, and joy, and every single thing in between. Our purposes are quite simple. To be, to love, to feel. And these initiations have created the person who is writing to you. 

So, From voids to ashes; the ways of nature. Which is inevitably follows the path of least resistance, is the grandest guide to lost prophecies scattered in roots and bones, to the highly sensitive, intuitive, mystic, the curse breakers, oracular artists, or trailblazers. We are all walking the shared pathway of pain and pleasure. Humanity is a brain after all. 

With all that being said. To remain tender is a gift — 

With tender love and Care, 

Melissa M Dorsey

Honeybee Healing

Tattoo’s and Herbal Remedies ! 

Death Doula?

Annapolis, MD