It has been a while since I launched the Moon + Stone Healing—almost a decade of healing work through Tarot, Reiki, crystals, shamanic work + sharing my medicine, writing + research under my belt. I realize in all that time I have not spent too much time introducing myself. My first newsletter launched into a full historical discussion of the Corn Moon without a second thought about letting you know who I am.
I hoped “who I am” would slide into the background, anonymous in that way that we can be when we are of service to others. It was a thought borne of humility and shyness. Unsurprisingly, who I am infiltrates everything I do, every client I help, every class I teach. It never slips into the background. I often share my wisdom through my own stories and experiences—it is how Spirit often speaks through me. When I think of how often I tell a personal story to illustrate the medicine for my clients and students, I blush wildly.
“Gaw, Angie, talk less. Listen more. You are so embarrassing,” sighs my inner teenager complete with eye roll and exasperation.
But when I think about talking less, I wonder how much of it is truly humility or has it been, as I am loathe to admit, a fear of intimacy, a subconscious pushing back from vulnerability. If someone said, write about you. I would say, “Meh, all these people know me already—all I do is write about me.” Recovery has taught me many valuable lessons, but possibly most important is that my story, my mistakes, my “failures”, my experience, is my medicine. It is what I have to pass on. It is why the broken amongst us are often the best at holding space and being healers.
Thinking about “my story” reminded me of working with my mentor Pixie Lighthorse. She asked us to think about what we are exceedingly good at. She said, figure out how to tell your clients who you are.
And so, I thought about all these things I would say:
I am Angie Yingst, nee Kenna.
I am an identical twin.
I am 48 years old.
I love the color red, moss, mushrooms, crystals, plants, and animals.
But those things are not really who I am. When Pixie asked me this, what she wanted me to do is figure out WHO I am.
I am a mother.
I parent three children earth-side and one ever-newborn who died during labor at 38 weeks, so I am a joyous mother and a bereaved mother. I also mother dogs—an 8 lb Jack Russell terrier named Louie and an 80 lb Chocolate Lab named Charlie, who love to make trouble just when I jump on a livestream for our students at Hibiscus Moon Crystal Academy. I mother my clients by giving them unconditional kindness and positive regard, or you know, unconditional love. It is sometimes the first time my clients have felt that. I have mothered circles of people, taught them how to hold space for one another and for themselves and how to heal the deep trauma of being highly sensitive in a very sharp, loud world. I even mothered my father when I became one of his caregivers at age 24 until his death three years ago.
I am also a daughter.
I am literally a daughter of an immigrant who comes from a family of storytellers and musicians and drunks. My mother gave me strength, resilience, confidence, grounding, and healing through her journey to the States, her mothering, her nurturing, her unconditional support, though disconnected from her family, the rainforest and ocean, and her homeland hurt parts of her soul too Still, I learned the stories, the connection to the Earth, the medicine of my ancestors. My mother taught me resourcefulness and laughter. I am a daughter to a person broken by trauma and alcoholism who also taught me hard work and resiliency. I am the daughter of Mother Earth, like my father, I am also her steward, the one who carries her medicine.
But maybe most importantly...
I am a wounded healer.
...a curandera + a bone-picker, one who pulls the meat off the bone, examines it, helps process it, facilitates transmutation and regeneration, but even as a healer, I am wounded nonetheless. Simply, I was called to do this work. After years in deep grief, hidden alcoholism, trauma-burying, and caregiving burnout + fatigue, I found myself seeking my own healing. In thousands of ways, I sought it—through traditional therapy; through quitting drinking + 12-step recovery; though uncovering and working on my own physical illnesses, chronic pain, + the doctors; through meditation, prayer, + psychic work; through travel + howling at the moon; through learning the hard way how to create, hold + maintain clear boundaries; through learning about self-love and radical self-acceptance; through art, writing + creativity; through parenting and being a wife; through research + reading + experiencing other people’s healing; + through navigating my own deep wounding + shadowlands without imploding. And as I healed and continue to heal, I was called to help others, to hold the lantern in the dark, like the Hermit, to guide others through their own wounds and heal.
As a healer, it empowers me to watch another person find their truth, to have revelations about their path in this world, to make connections between the earthly realm and Spirit, to begin to live in the flow, and most importantly, to begin that process of reconciliation and healing, because I can still remember my own journey of uncovering my truths, of having those moments of great revelation and inspiration.
Through all these things I have learned what works for me to revitalize me. The slow surrender to the will of the Earth and God energizes me, validates my work. Circles of peers, long soaks in hot salted water, morning meditations and prayer time, regular sleep, simple food, conversations and laughter, walking/hiking, and art (painting, singing, playing guitar and dancing) restore and empower me. And my work. My work with you. That inspires me.
Thank you for being part of it, and being part of this amazing journey. It is nice to meet you.
Much love,
Angie
