The self-authority our ancestors only dreamed of
This permission, this reclamation, this clear-eyed tenderness is the field we’ll be entering together on Friday.
There are some people whose presence rearranges the air the moment they enter.
A subtle hum moves through the room, your ribs get wider, there’s a whisper,
Oh… I can be softer here.
My dear friend, Kyra, is one of those people.
I want to introduce you to her in the way she arrives for me — as a field, a frequency, as a radiant light that shifts the atmosphere when she’s near.
Kyra is an intuitive mentor for those standing at the threshold of midlife — that tender, electric place where the identity you’ve built and the truth beginning to rise are finally meeting eye to eye.
She walks with people who are unraveling old stories, sensing the pull of a deeper self, learning how to stay rooted in everything they’ve created while allowing the next incarnation of themselves to begin breathing.
But beyond all of that, what strikes me most is this:
Kyra is a mystic whose channel hums with the frequency of the present moment.
When she speaks, an ancient vulnerability stirs.
When she listens, you can catch a glimpse of the shadows of the lineage witnessing behind her.
There is a warmth that finds where to weave into, a knowing that moves like water entering its path.
After watching her inside a free gathering, in conversation with one of my mentors, I was immediately drawn in.
Recognition.
My body said: pay attention… there’s deep medicine here.
I followed her work on Substack and not before long these delicate transmissions she drops like tiny constellations began to arrive.
I told her recently that her notes illuminate the parts of my inner world I don’t always see when I’m moving energy outward, creating, building, tending.
There’s a quiet receptivity — she writes the way some people breathe, without force, without shaping, simply naming what the moment is already saying.
With wonder, I reached out to her.
And when we finally got on a call, my admiration only deepened.
A radiance came through the screen, so present, light suddenly had a texture.
Listening to her speak about her connection to the Divine, the way she receives her downloads, held a quality I rarely experience.
I have my own way the knowing rises in the body — yet the way it moves through her made me want to sit closer, to learn the shape of it, to listen.
I’m sharing all this because when I asked if she wanted to co-create a post with me to invite you to our Friday live, what she sent back wasn’t a small contribution but a stunning transmission.
A piece with its own pulse, its own ancestral breath, its own truth, carrying medicine stirred by the current I invited her into.
This Friday, she’ll gather with me in an intimate circle — three women unraveling threads of lineage, pleasure, discernment, liberation.
I’ll introduce the second incredible woman tomorrow.
For now, I want you to receive from Kyra’s voice, writing, and holy connection.
The self-authority our ancestors only dreamed of
Thinking about my ancestors, I feel the resistance as strongly as the resilience.
I know the grit forged by forced labor and the grace of songs that touched their lips.
Maybe the only show of power allowed.
I want to look at the stories and discern which ones serve me, and which ones have silenced me.
I want to feel powerful as I pluck what harms me from my life and cultivate more of what heals me.
I want to discern which beliefs about my worth (my power, my body, my voice, ambition, sexuality, rest)… came from oppression and fear.
I want to allow the pleasure of good food, movement, creative expression, and a sense of ease as a way of repairing a lineage that was interrupted by survival.
We don’t have to be bound by the stories behind us.
We can write our future from the self-authority our ancestors only dreamed of, if they dared.
I claim this as self-care, as a form of resistance and reverence, for myself, those who came before me, and as a trail for those yet to come.
-Kyra
This permission, this reclamation, this clear-eyed tenderness is the field we’ll be entering together for LINEAGE this Friday at 10am Central.
The work of lineage — the discernment of which threads are actually yours and which were placed in your hands long before you arrived.
The unbinding of stories your body no longer wants to carry. The remembering that pleasure is a form of repair. The truth that joy is lineage healing itself through you.
If something in your chest opened as you read her words —
if your own ancestral threads tugged a little,
I invite you to join us.
You can add it to your calendar here.
Let’s meet in that potent place where the old stories loosen, the new ones begin to breathe, and the future — your future — starts writing itself through the body.
In devotion,
Rosa
P.S. Kyra is also journeying with us inside DEVOTION,
where she’s building a program devoted to reconnecting women to their own enchantment —
the quiet magic, the instinct, the stirring beneath the surface.
Her writings around this lives inside her Substack publication,
Women at the Edge of the Woods,
a place where her messages come through like candles in the dark.