The Sacred Journey I've Been Keeping Secret: What Avalon Taught Me About the Goddess Within
A pilgrimage to the mystical isle where priestesses once walked, and what it revealed about our own divine nature
I'm sitting here with my morning coffee, memories of mist enveloping me softly, and something in me is finally ready to share a story I've been keeping close to my heart for almost a year now.
Last year, my partner and I took what I've been calling "a trip" to the UK, but honestly? That feels like such a small word for what actually happened. This was a pilgrimage, a sacred journey I'd been dreaming about for over 15 years.
And I haven't really talked about it because, well... some things are meant to stay sacred, you know?
We live in this weird world where it feels like we owe everyone a play-by-play of our entire lives. But here's what I've always believed: we don't owe everyone every single piece of who we are, all the freaking time. We get to choose what we share, with whom, and what we keep for ourselves.
But today feels different. Today, I want to share something with you that might just crack your heart wide open in the best possible way.
So let me tell you about Avalon...
The Isle of Apples: Where Myth Meets Sacred Truth
Long before Hollywood turned Avalon into a backdrop for sword-wielding knights, this mystical isle existed in the liminal space between legend and reality. The Celts called it Ynys Afallon, (the Isle of Apples) a place where the veil between worlds grew thin as morning mist.
But here's what most people don't know about the Avalon I’ve been enamored with for decaded: it wasn't primarily a place of masculine conquest and holy grails. It was the sacred domain of the Goddess Herself, tended by her priestesses who understood mysteries that have been all but forgotten in our modern world.
Picture this: an island shrouded in perpetual mist, where ancient women walked between worlds as easily as they walked between the sacred groves. These were women who didn’t act out the part of the meek, submissive figures bowing to distant gods so many of us have grown accustomed to as our stories have been skewed to reflect only the side of the patriarchal equation that best suits an agenda that despises the feminine and the Goddess in all her forms.
No, these were women who understood that they themselves were the divine in human form; healers, seers, keepers of wisdom that flowed like the sacred springs from the earth itself.
The priestesses of Avalon knew that the Goddess isn't some distant deity to be worshiped from afar. She lives in the cyclical wisdom of the seasons, in the phases of the moon, in the ebb and flow of our own inner tides. She is the creative force that births stars and babies alike, the fierce protector who destroys what no longer serves, the potent nurturer and apt provider who tends the seeds of new growth.
And here's the part that will make your soul tremble with recognition:
She lives in you.
The Calling That Won't Be Silenced
I've been studying the Divine Feminine for decades now, having these beautiful encounters with the sacred in the most unexpected places. (Jerusalem, of all places, was one of them; and I will share taht story here soon)
But something kept calling me to this particular land, this place where the ancient ways were honored before they were driven underground. Where women held councils under starlit skies and tended sacred fires that connected them directly to the source of all creation.
The priestesses of Avalon weren't playing small. They weren't asking permission to be powerful. They knew that the Goddess flowed through their veins, spoke through their voices, and worked magic through their hands. They understood that to be a woman (to be human) was to be a walking, breathing embodiment of the Divine.
And let me be real with you; I was nervous as hell to ever call myself a "priestess". This was a ferar I’d been carrying with me for the longest time. Despite all the studying, all the initiations, all the inner work. Isn't that funny? How we can know something so deeply and still question our right to claim it?
And never the less, after two and a half decades of dedication, I can finally say the words with pride, and here, in this land, they landed with even more fervor and more potency than ever before, and frankly, I delighted in it so deeply, I almost wanted to melt into the very earth to keep that sense intact.
The Land Where Mist Holds Memory
When we finally arrived in Glastonbury, the modern location often taught and believed to be ancient Avalon, I understood immediately why this place had been calling to me. The mist here doesn't just obscure the landscape; it holds memory. Walk through it, and you can almost hear the whispers of the women who walked these paths before you.
The energy here is... different. Older. More feminine. It's as if the land itself remembers when the Goddess was not just honored but understood as the very life force that animates all things.
Standing in the shadow of Glastonbury Tor, I could feel the presence of countless women who had made (and still make) this same pilgrimage. Not to find some external source of power, but to remember the power that had always lived within them.
The priestesses of Avalon understood something that our modern world has forgotten (or rather, tried hard to obliterate): we are not separate from nature; we ARE nature. We are not separate from the divine; we ARE the divine. We are not meant to be small, quiet, and invisible,, we are meant to be fully expressed, fully alive, fully embodied, fully ourselves.
The Sacred Well: Drinking from the Source
I walked up to the sacred well with tears streaming down my face (not sad tears, but recognition tears). You know the kind, when your soul remembers something your mind had forgotten, and suddenly your whole body is trmbling with the force of it all. Those kinds of tears.
The Chalice Well, as it's known today, has been flowing for over two thousand years. Legend says it's where the Holy Grail was hidden, but I think that misses the point entirely. The grail isn't some external cup, it's the sacred vessel of our own being, the chalice of our own hearts.
The sound of children laughing mixed with birds singing, and the sacred waters rolling over ancient stones, and when I finally knelt down and drank from that well... something in me that had been aching for years just dissolved.
I can’t really explain it in full, but oh how I long to drink from Her well forevermore.
This water has been blessed by the prayers of countless pilgrims, but more than that, it flows from the earth herself, carrying the memory of the Goddess in every drop. The priestesses of Avalon would have known this well, would have understood that to drink from it was to remember your connection to the sacred source of all life.
As I sat there, slowly inviving the nectar of the Goddess, I realized: the sacred well didn't give me healing. It reminded me that I AM the healing I'd been seeking.
The Tor: Standing Between Worlds
Later, climbing the steep path to the top of Glastonbury Tor (something I did every day at least twice, if not three times a day and with a very specific trail and intention in mind and heart - one of re-initiation), I felt the presence of all the women who had made this ascent before me. The Tor (that mystical hill rising from the mist like something from another world) has been a sacred site for thousands of years.
Archaeological evidence suggests that this was once a place of Goddess worship, where the Divine Feminine was honored in her many aspects. The priestesses would have climbed this hill for ritual, for ceremony, for the simple act of standing closer to the sky and feeling their connection to the cosmos, and now, there I was, walking where they walked before me, and my whole body shivered with remembering.
At the summit, I expected some big mystical vision. Lightning bolts, Goddesses appearing in the clouds, you know, the whole spiritual movie experience.
Instead, I got something so much better: perfect, ordinary presence.
Sitting on that ancient hill, looking out over the mist-covered landscape, I didn't see the divine somewhere "out there." I felt it right here (pointing to my heart haha), in me, as me, breathing through me, seeing through my eyes.
The priestesses of Avalon would have understood this immediately. They knew that the sacred wasn't something you visited on special occasions but rather, it was something you lived, breathed, and embodied every single day.
The Mists of Memory
Walking through Avalon's famous mists felt like moving between worlds, and perhaps I was. The Celts believed that mist was a doorway, a place where the ordinary world touched the other-world, where magic became possible.
But here's what I realized in those swirling, silver-gray veils: the liminal space I was walking through wasn't some other realm. It was the space I'd been living in my whole life; the place where spirit meets flesh, where mystery dances with the everyday, where the sacred hides in plain sight.
The priestesses of Avalon lived in this space between worlds. They understood that as women, as humans, as divine beings having a temporary physical experience, we exist in the liminal. We are the bridge between heaven and earth, the living proof that the sacred and the ordinary are not separate things.
In those mists, I heard the whispers of the ancient ones:
"You are the temple you've been seeking."
"You are the goddess you've been praying to."
"You are the magic you've been trying to find."
The Return: Carrying Avalon Within
I didn't go to Avalon to get something I didn't have.
I didn’t go to make content I could use to “sell” a program, or to further update my resume or my “brand”. (I don’t even have that many pictures of the place, because I knew I wanted this whole journey to be mine alone, and I hesitated to share even with my camera, it just wasn’t the big WHY underneath it all, you know?)
I went there to remember what I'd always been.
The sacred well didn't give me access to Divine Feminine energy, it reminded me that I AM Divine Feminine energy.
The Tor didn't show me where the Goddess lives, it reflected back my own divine nature.
The mists didn't transport me to some other realm, they revealed that I was already living in the sacred, had always been living in the sacred.
This is what the priestesses of Avalon knew that we've forgotten: we are not pilgrims seeking the divine. We ARE the divine, temporarily forgetting our true nature, playing hide and seek with ourselves.
The Goddess Lives in You
Here's what I really want you to understand, what Avalon whispered to my soul about us all:
You are not broken and in need of fixing. You are a masterpiece of creation, perfectly imperfect, beautifully human, and absolutely divine.
You are not incomplete and in need of finding your "other half”, or that perfect job, or that elusive outise of yourself thing you think will make you whole. You are whole, complete, a universe unto yourself, with all the love and wisdom you need already living within you.
You are not small and in need of permission to shine. You are a daughter of the stars, a child of the earth, a walking embodiment of the creative force that spins galaxies and grows flowers.
The priestesses of Avalon understood this deeply. They knew that to be a woman was to carry the mysteries of creation in your very cells. They knew that your menstrual cycle mirrors the phases of the moon (shivering with excitment at realizing I am writting this on Friday, the 13th which is the Goddess day in so many ways, to include the rythms of the moon), that your intuition is connected to the same source that guides migrating birds and turns the tides.
They knew that your emotions are not weaknesses to be overcome but sacred messengers carrying divine wisdom. They knew that your sensitivity is not a flaw but a superpower that allows you to feel the heartbeat of the earth herself.
They knew that your body is not an object to be judged but a temple housing the divine spark of creation.
And they knew that your voice, your truth, your story, your unique expression of the sacred; is not meant to be silenced but celebrated, honored, and shared with the world.
The Ancient Ways in Modern Times
You might be thinking, "This all sounds beautiful, but how do I live like a priestess of Avalon in 2025?"
Here's the thing: you don't need to move to a mystical island or learn ancient rituals (though if you feel called to either, go for it). The priestess path is about remembering who you are and living that truth in whatever circumstances you find yourself.
It's about:
Honoring your cycles instead of pushing through them. Your energy ebbs and flows like the tides, that's not a bug, it's a feature.
Trusting your intuition even when it doesn't make logical sense. Your inner knowing is connected to the same intelligence that grows trees and heals wounds.
Setting boundaries that protect your energy and your peace. You don't owe anyone access to your sacred self.
Spending time in nature and remembering that you're not separate from the earth—you ARE the earth, walking around in human form.
Celebrating your body as the miracle it is instead of treating it as a problem to be solved.
Speaking your truth even when your voice shakes, because your voice carries the frequency of the divine.
Keeping some things sacred in a world that wants to monetize and publicize everything. ;-)
The Pilgrimage is Here
I'm not saying you need to book a flight to England (though if you feel called to, absolutely do it). I'm saying your current life (yes, even the messy, imperfect, sometimes overwhelming life you're living right now) is your sacred pilgrimage.
Every challenge you've faced has been initiating you into your own power, teaching you to trust yourself, showing you what you're capable of surviving and thriving through.
Every time you've chosen love over fear, you've been walking the priestess path.
Every moment you've trusted your intuition over outside opinions, you've been drinking from your own sacred well.
Every time you've stood in your truth despite opposition, you've been climbing your own Tor.
Every time you've honored your need for rest, for solitude, for mystery, you've been moving through your own sacred mists.
The priestesses of Avalon are not ancient history. They are alive in you, in your DNA, in your cellular memory. They are the part of you that knows you are divine, that refuses to play small, that insists on living fully, authentically, powerfully.
The Sacred Feminine Rising
We are living in a time of great awakening, when the ancient ways are being remembered and reclaimed. The Goddess is rising in the hearts of women everywhere, reminding us of our power, our wisdom, our sacred nature.
And this awakening isn't about rejecting the masculine or creating separation (because that is never the true way of the Feminine). It's about restoring balance, honoring the feminine that has been suppressed for too long, and remembering that we need both the masculine and feminine energies to create a whole, healthy world.
The priestesses of Avalon understood this balance. They honored the God and the Goddess as complementary forces, recognizing that creation requires both the receptive and the active, the intuitive and the logical, the flowing and the structured.
But they also understood that the Divine Feminine had been the primary creative force, the source from which all life emerges. They knew that in order for the world to heal, the feminine wisdom had to be restored to its rightful place.
That restoration begins with you. With you remembering who you are. With you honoring your intuition, your emotions, your cycles, your truth. With you stepping into your power and refusing to apologize for taking up space.
The Invitation
I'm sharing all of this with you because things are shifting in my world, and I feel called to be more open about this part of my journey. Not everything (some things will always stay sacred and private) but the parts that might help you remember your own magic.
If this story stirred something in you, if it made you feel a little less alone, a little more powerful, a little more at home in your own skin, then you're exactly who I hoped would read it.
The mists of Avalon didn't part to reveal some distant goddess. They cleared to show me my own face, divine and human, powerful and tender, perfectly imperfect and absolutely sacred.
The same truth waits for you, not in some far-off mystical isle, but in the mirror of your own recognition.
Your life is not waiting to begin when you get your act together, lose the weight, find the partner, get the promotion, heal all the trauma, or figure it all out.
Your life is happening right now, and you (exactly as you are in this moment) are the author of it.
You are the sovereign of your own story. You are the keeper of your own sacred flame. You are the priestess of your own temple. You are already home.
The priestesses of Avalon knew this truth, lived this truth, embodied this truth. And now, in this moment, as you read these words, you are remembering it too.
Welcome home to yourself, beautiful. The Goddess has been waiting for you to remember who you are.
What sacred truth is your life whispering to you right now? I'd love to hear what's stirring in your soul. Leave a comment below;
I read every single one, and I promise to respond with the same care and attention you'd receive from the priestesses of old.