an unexpected interlude: a medium, a son's odyssey, trauma, synchronicity, and a dash of grace

the two sons spoken about in this piece- Keegan is the oldest. as I’ve mentioned to him how parents are fueled by magical thinking, “we never gaze down at our newborn and speculate, “ohhh, I wonder what your drug of choice will be,” “where will you go to rehab when you grow up?”

April 9, 2025 (NZT)

This morning at 5:45 am I was awakened by my alarm set to the B-52's song, Deadbeat Club. (check it out, I'm playing it as I type)

Smirking, I admired what a great wake up song this could be for blowing things off and hitting snooze. But today I did not want to go back to sleep.

The song returned fifteen minutes later to remind me to set up my laptop for a video chat with *my* holistic medium, Shane Gadd, who I hadn't spoken to since before my physical condition left me virtually speechless.

Sometimes, and only with hindsight, measuring sticks show up to illustrate just where we are/were mind-body-spirit at a given point in time. It shocked me to realize I’ve been so unwell that I felt unable to engage with Shane’s work until now— I had gotten so much from it.

Shane and I had connected when I was actively involved with The Death Dialogues Project. I'll link my podcast episode with him at the end of this piece so you can get a vibe for him. The fix I get in talking with Shane for an hour is a viable replacement for therapy for me. We communicate on a similar wavelength, he always gives me insights into my current status; that interaction has fed my soul for some time; filed in the ultimate column of my self-care practices.

Actually I'd purchased this session as a gift for my son Keegan and a couple years had ticked without it being used. It was a video chat with Keegan the other day that reminded me the session was still available as he was making an appointment with someone else and encouraged me to take this one. That was my impetus to drop Shane a line and reclaim the session.

As Shane and I hopped into the session, he shared his observations of the supportive energy he could sense around me and the messages he was getting about me living my life. There was so much. Interestingly, he had no clue that I hadn't been around because of my health and I didn't share that until closer to the end of the session.

Shane was picking up that I'd moved from being in the spiral (circular motions with hands), with all the chaos, illness, and deaths we and loved ones have experienced in the past years, to being more on the sidelines, observing and showing up energetically, so that these inevitable processes are given the momentum and outcomes needed for meaningful shifts. Shane said something like (paraphrased), you are sitting there with grace knowing that some breakdowns have to occur to lead them/us to the alchemy that will expand our/their growth.

Awww yes, I thought, imagining our almost 21 year old's recent video of him commercial fishing on the Bering Sea, freezing cold with huge waves rocking the ship, working 19 hour days, and then the recent video of him boxing in Thailand (for fun!?), and all that has shown up as he began living out in the wide world. ((deep breaths))

It's very sweet that Mr. almost 21 has always been quite open with us, sometimes too open, I'd joke. I could never have imagined sharing with my parents what he shares with us.

Since he's been "adulting" I've been working hard at staying in my lane and highly encouraging him and his dad to do the processing when it comes to the business matters of his life. All the firsts. In a different country. During his recent visit home Mr. 20 10/12 gave me a pat on the back for the love and the reinforced boundaries I’d been practicing.

I think every parent should read Celia Lashlies' book He'll Be Ok, based on her studies of high school aged boys. My husband read it too.

My biggest takeaway was that come adolescent years, I needed to step aside and make room for his father to step forward and intensify their relationship with his son and resist interfering with that process unless there were health and safety issues. There is a lot of rationale that has as much to do with the parents as the sons. (Huge apologies for the binary language. We have a wide rainbow family and I try to be mindful of the language. Celia wrote her book in 2005 in New Zealand. The rest of the content is timeless and can be molded to fit any family)

Because of that scaffolding built from Celia's perspective, through the last years I was reminded to hold back and give space more easily and have been trying to mindfully practice more observation, support, and listening than intervention. Granted, a paradigm shift that my impaired condition allowed me to put in practice easier as a result of exhaustion.

The experiences we've had with our youngest resonated with Shane’s feedback and how I've been trying to show up for our adult kids.

My son Keegan then came to mind.

I thought as soon as I got finished with the session with Shane, I would take to my journal and write, but I found myself in a sweet, almost blissful, state of exhaustion and enjoyed simply chilling, staring out at our view.

Eventually, a couple hours later, I checked my email, and what do you know, Keegan's latest Substack release was in my inbox. Voraciously reading it, I soon got the cue that this piece was going to raise all the hairs that his earlier raw writing about his travel journeys had. The last time he’d written like this I’d had to set it aside and regroup to go back to it.

Being more open and real about his struggle with substance use disorder this past year, he's been laying his story down for public consumption in a very open (and often gut wrenching) manner. Truth. It is what I’m drawn to read; the breadth of the beautiful-horrible. But like most every parent, I had hoped upon hope for far more beautiful than horrible for this child.

When he finally had brutally 'fessed up to me about what had precipitated his sibs going to rescue him from the Pacific Northwest, my mind was blown. One thing he said landed in my gut and was so true, "I told my friends that I can't OD and die, it would kill my mom." I'd never felt so seen.

Our family had no idea just how much of his experience had yet to be discovered. That early disclosure was just the tip of the substance use disorder iceberg you’ll discover if you follow his story.

Keegan and I have always had a close connection. He wasn't obnoxious to me when he was in the throes of using during his late teens, or ever. I swear it would have been easier on my broken heart if he had been mean to me. I could've detached, with love, easier, but he always gave the long hugs, I love yous with deep eye contact, always pitched in when asked when he was with me; as with all of our children—his beautiful spirit glowed brighter than the mishaps.

Keegan made it very easy to separate the disorder from my beautiful boy. It’s fascinating now listening to him say what a mind-fuck substance use disorder is because it is so fueled by a person’s choices. He gets it.

We had heartfelt talks throughout the time Keegan was on the road. Several times on the call he would be sharing on the road trauma; running into scary people and situations, cronies who had died, or having to use Narcan to revive someone. These are not the bedtime stories the parent of any traveler longs to be told. Always deathly afraid of needles, I hoped that meant Keegan would stay away from them which he claimed was true each time I inquired. (I know, I know ...) I knew he was drinking some but there was so very much I did not know.

Sometimes we would talk for hours and he would sound so happy and energized. We’d get into the esoteric and our personal beliefs. I asked him later— because he never sounded drunk or drugged— were you high on something when we had those marathon calls? “Very likely.”

When you have a loved one who struggles with an addictive process— something our family was familiar with— and you are a deep feeler, as many of you know first hand, the concern for their wellbeing can burn a festering hole into your very soul. The scab starts to cover the wound and at any given time it’s ripped off, poked, prodded. Sometimes there is such an infected, oozing, gaping hole that continues to grow bigger and bigger, you have to jump ship and save yourself from being eaten up as well.

During the better times you try to file the most recent experiences in the folder labelled, "please don't let that happen again." When behaviors repeat, it feels like a baseball bat to the kneecaps. I found living while fearing for his (and another’s) life hell and it took so very much internal work for me to not let it kidnap any sense of peace. My love for him never dimmed.

So after this session with Shane where he repeatedly tells me that my children are all part of my light filled soul clan, which has always resonated … BOOM: Today my email inbox held more of Keegan's raw story. I won't go into detail. I've linked it here so you are welcome to check it out yourself. (And he'd love it if you subscribed to his writing and podcast.)

Because of filling my tank with that session earlier, this time I could read his detailed recollections of just how hard core his life and use had been and not want to vomit. Still some nausea, but hopeful nausea.

He's coming up to one year clean and sober and there seems to be such a vast difference than times before, all coming from within himself. Again, imagining Shane's swirling hands, for me, it's been another example of lovingly taking a seat at the edge of the boxing ring and accepting that there are referees and peers who come to wipe up his blood and sweat are now his people with their hard won insight.

Reinforcing an inherent belief and Shane’s words today— we know that there has to be traumas and difficulties for alchemized shift for more understanding and better coping and growth to higher levels to break through. We’ve all been there.

Perceiving all these signs of his commitment to himself and his health allows me to just wallow in Keegan’s creative storytelling and advocacy work he's putting into the world today. Talk about a paradigm shift. Yes, just one day at a time.

This type of morning, I file under synchronicity. "Fragile" as I might be, to have this reinforcement of my time with Shane’s words wrapped around me, and then immediately revisiting the abyss Keegan was wrenched from-- yeah, not thinking that's a coincidence. That is Grace.

Ending on a happy note, in May I'll have the chance to travel some with Keegan while he celebrates a year clean and sober. There were so many travels that Keegan missed with us throughout the years because he was either relapsed or in treatment so it feels amazing to have a big adventure with him.

My husband and I start with him and his other two birth sibs in a just planned tiny wedding of my second oldest in Helsinki. After a couple weeks there, Keegan will come to Sicily with us. He's looking forward to being on the road, backpacking, at this time in his life; clean and sober (his words). We will have time together and he'll adventure on his own as he desires.

We leave for Helsinki first of May. We have wonderful house/animal sitters lined up. If able, I'll report in here on the notes feature; I thought of maybe sharing a pic a day if able.

Personally, the goal is that it's a further resurrection tour for me and my health, but admittedly I've been physically feeling a tad beat up of late. As I mentioned in my last piece, my husband and I keep getting hard reminders of LIVE NOW, so we didn't hesitate to excitedly plan this journey.

Sending all the best for your greater good and so much love.

Talk soon,

Becky

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Keegan’s post:

The End of the Road, Pt. 1

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Meet Shane here; click on image:

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