The Return of Shakti

“Gather the priestesses.”
These three words shimmered over the cerulean waves as I meditated by the sea cave. It was a sacred calling.

I had been living on the Goddess Island of Ibiza, an ancient Mediterranean island in Spain. I was there to retreat and rejuvenate while healing from a divorce. I knew I had the medicine woman archetype deep inside my bones. I am from the Shakti lineage in India. My mother is Shakti. My aunt is Shakti. My grandmother, great-grandmother, great great-grandmother—they were all priestesses of Shakti. The voice of India’s ancient river flows through our bloodline.

Images flashed in front of me. I saw the women in my family performing their sacred feminine rituals of Anjali in the morning, and arati in the evening. I saw my grandmother, freshly bathed, anointing herself in jasmine oil. With her wet, black hair, she stepped up to her altar: Goddess Kali was waiting, along with Dhurga, Lakshmi and Saraswati. All the faces of Shakti. My grandmother lit incense and chanted sacred mantras to the paintings of the Goddesses. She rang a brass bell to clear the air. She offered flowers and a copper jar of water, and blew a white conch towards the sky.

My grandmother often took me to the temples of Kali, and to Dhakineshwar, a famous pilgrimage site along the River Ganges.
I held my grandmother’s teachings close to my heart. However, growing up in the United States, I could not express these teachings to the wider world. The messages I received at school, from the men in my family, and on television, were very different from the feminine power of Shakti. I was taught to be ashamed of my body and my gifts from a young age. At school, I was laughed at, and humiliated in public by friends who thought I was “weird.” Boyfriends rejected me, saying I was “too much” and “too intense.” Family members constantly told me to cover my body. I began to believe that my beauty was dangerous, and that my voice didn’t matter. I had an inner urge to step forward and be a powerful, visible, pioneering woman—but I believed that if I did so I would lose the love of my mother and father, as well as my closest relationships. And so, I stayed small. I didn’t speak. I didn’t express my power.

The voice rose from the ocean, calling me: “Gather the priestesses.”

For months, I healed through layers of victim mindset. I was a woman with little access to resources, no idea how to generate wealth, weak boundaries, and a sense of powerlessness over my life’s purpose. I prayed every day to the spirit of the island to show me the way.

In September, I received an invitation to join a workshop for feminine magic. I had no idea what to expect. I was a practitioner of Tarot, had studied Hermetic and Egyptian texts, and had made pilgrimages to sacred Goddess sites around the world, but I had no idea what would be taught at this workshop. I went anyway.

The day of the gathering, the sun rose smiling through the East, and warm yellow light sparkled through my window. I bathed, and anointed myself with oils. I chanted the holy Shakti mantra and blessed the day.

One by one, the women arrived. We were in an old, Spanish-style building with mosaic floors, wide verandas, and green-shuttered windows. The workshop leader, Susannah, introduced herself and led us through the material. We sat in a circle, passing around sage, burning away unnecessary energy. By the time afternoon came, we were all bonding, chatting, and sharing stories with one another.

Later, we each drew a star: one triangle in gold to represent the male solar principle, and the other in silver to represent the female receptive principle. We were guided to write the qualities we most wanted to manifest in the next six to twelve months. I wrote “courage, wildness, abundance, instinct, and prosperity”—and then, I wrote “priestess” at the crown of the star.

Susannah took the paper in her hands and smiled as if she knew a secret. “You are meant to mentor young women, beautiful one.”

“Me?” My voice cracked. “What would I teach? Why would they listen to me?”

“Give it time. It will come to you.”

After the workshop, I went home and placed the star on my altar. I lit a white candle every day for twenty-one days to complete the wish.

And I waited.

I started dancing on the island, teaching women how to unlock their bodies and flow with music and energy. I meditated every day. I wrote in my journal and channeled the voices coming to me―empowering, loving voices reminding me what power was and where true, authentic power came from. They asked, “Are you willing to be powerful? Are you wiling to use your gifts, to be in your power? Can you see how to use your power and purpose in a meaningful way? Are you willing to shine your light?”

One year later, I met Diana, a shamanic healer who also went by the name of White Horse Spirit. I was still in need of deep, soul-level healing, and she helped me open up to my shadows and the pain of betrayal, loss, uncertainty, and doubt. She helped my see where I had lost power and joy in my magical, sacred center: my womb. We worked together, shedding and healing, until I was gaining power and momentum in my life again.

In one of our healing sessions I asked, “Where do I belong? What is my purpose in life?” The channeling that came through expressed that Shakti would be a great guide for me. I also had to let go of my previous identity as a disempowered woman in order to step into my power for the entire world to see and cherish. I was being asked to accept my spiritual heritage and identity as a priestess and oracle, and as one who has deep wisdom to share with the world.

Diana said, “On this island, if you stand in your power and sing your truth, she will sing back to you.”

I made Ibiza my temple.

For three years I danced and became a celebrant, anointing women’s circles as well as sacred Equinox and Solstice days with Shakti mantras, fire dances, and group rituals. I worked with women to bring Shakti into their lives through chanting, prayer, dance, and presence in their bodies. I even traveled to other Goddess islands along the Mediterranean like Santorini and Crete. Every year, I grew more able to hold space as a priestess. Every year I claimed my power.

Then, there came a moment of shining grace.

Many women from the island circled up in sacred ceremony on Es Vedra, the Temple of Light, a magical and magnetic rock that shot out from the ocean. It was the island’s sacred landmark. For me, it was a point of no return. Whatever I spoke out loud here, I would manifest.

I prayed, Mother, grant me your strength. You are the Earth who nurtured and nourished me. Through you all life is renewed. I pray you, Mother, shower me with your Divine Light. Please, let me be worthy. Thank you. I love you.

I opened the circle with a fire dance, spinning and swirling and receiving visions. In my vision, a woman on a lion rode towards me, and stood so close I could feel her fiery breath on my face. The lion roared like thunder. I was electrified and shaken.

I kept dancing.

I saw my ancestors walk into the temple with red hibiscus in their hands. I heard them speak, “You are the one. This is your time. You are worthy.”

I saw young women passing through the fire with small flames in their hands.

I saw the shackles which had bound me for all of my life fall to the ground.

I asked for women to be in their power. I asked for my own activation of power.

I asked for women to speak their truth. I asked that I could finally speak the truth.

In that moment I faced my power, and was unafraid. I was transformed. I began to believe in myself, and in the possibilities of spreading Shakti not only in Ibiza, but to the whole world.

That was the moment I chose myself and stopped waiting for anyone else to choose me. I chose to become the greatest version of myself—it was time to share my message with the world.

Eventually, I left Ibiza, and moved to New York City. There, I founded Shakti Priestess, and became a five-time best-seller by sharing the stories of my Kundalini awakening with Shakti. My own book, Messages of Shakti, found a global audience and community. Soon I was holding sacred circles for women, hosting my own podcast, creating guided meditations, and teaching my signature system called Shakti Power.

By reclaiming my voice, vision, power and truth, I stepped into my sacred feminine power as a spiritual leader and priestess.

The ritual on the cliffs, singing to Es Vedra, was a reflection of the woman I had become. In my journey from victim to vibrant, visionary woman, I had created a foundation of power, and no one could take that away from me ever again. In my heart, in my blood and bones, I heard drums beating, and women chanting all around me. I felt the rivers of ancient India flowing through me. The power and the sound grew louder and louder. As I danced and sang with my heart open to the sky, my voice burst into a fiery roar. Truth was calling, the Goddess was calling, women around the world aching to be heard were calling.

And all over the sky, a sacred voice was calling …