Finding Light Within The Darkness: Where My Spiritual Transmissions Begin

A Gentle Note Before Reading

This post speaks openly about child loss, deep grief and thoughts of not wanting to be here. Please take care of yourself as you read, and leave this page if these words feel too close or difficult for you today. If you feel you may act on thoughts of harming yourself, please contact emergency services or a crisis support service where you live, or reach out to someone who can stay with you.

My spiritual transmissions are first brought through in support of me.

That might not be what people expect me to say.

Perhaps they imagine I create a transmission because I already know what is needed. That I am standing on the other side of an experience, looking back with the answers.

But quite often, I am right in the middle of it.

After losing a child, there is more darkness than light. Some days, hindsight becomes the operator of my ego, my person and my entire day.

Some days, getting to the end of that day can feel almost impossible.

These are the parts of grief we don’t often talk about—the thoughts we keep to ourselves because we know how frightening they can sound to someone who hasn’t experienced this kind of loss.

When we do speak them, people naturally want to help. They want to blanket us, send us to medical professionals, put us on medication or find some way to save us.

But in that moment, I don’t need someone to explain it away or try to pull me out of what I’m experiencing.

I need space to experience all of it—raw and unfiltered.

I need to fight my way through it and discover what is there for me to face, meet, or wrestle with so I can find the tools within to resource myself.

That doesn’t mean I like it. It doesn’t mean I accept it or suddenly make peace with what has happened.

It simply means I come through more resourced by Spirit and better able to cope with another day.

Because tomorrow, or another day after that, it will hit me again.

I know it will.

And when it does, I will have to find my way through again. But I will have new tools and support from my team to help me.

Once my team is aware that I’m in this vibration, they stay pretty damn close.

They surround me, ready to catch me.

I know they’re there because I can feel them against my skin.

There was a time when I made the decision to walk into the ocean and not come back.

I had started walking down the beach towards the water. I’d reached the wet sand when a butterfly began flying into me—bumping against my nose, my forehead and my face—until I finally stopped and looked at it.

It settled on the sand in front of me.

I knew it was Sacha.

“Mum, stop. Don’t do this. I’m here.”

Was I suddenly okay?

No.

But I stopped. I sat down on the sand.

And I stayed.

The Right to Leave

There are moments when I think, I have the right to leave.

I know those are horrible words to read.

As a mother, I would never have wanted to hear one of my children say them. I could never have simply sat back and said, “That is their choice,” and been okay with them ending their life.

That isn’t what I mean.

But from within the darkest parts of my grief, the thoughts are still there:

I’m a grown woman. I have the right to leave.

Then I think about what leaving would mean.

I would leave Natasha here without her mother. I would leave my husband to continue being her father without me.

Bruce loves Natasha completely, but his relationship with her is different from mine.

Natasha and I share a bond that reaches beyond time and space. I don’t only know her as my daughter in this life. I understand the way she experiences her body, her energy and the worlds and beings she connects with. We often recognise what the other is experiencing without needing to find the words to explain it.

There are parts of Natasha that only I understand because I can see and hold both—the human daughter living beside me and the much larger being she is.

How could I leave her to navigate this life without me?

How could I leave?

This is the conversation that can go on inside me.

The part that doesn’t want to continue and the part that knows I need to—and that I will.

The unbearable weight of living after the passing of my child, alongside the love and responsibility that keep me here.

Both are true in that moment.

This is where spiritual transmissions begin for me

Not every transmission comes from grief, but they do tend to come through during those moments when I cannot see my way to the other side of something.

Sometimes it is grief. Sometimes it is physical pain, exhaustion, uncertainty or change. Sometimes I simply reach a place where my everyday Vicki mind cannot find what I need.

That is when I call in Ngahekah, my spirit-self, and my team.

I don’t call them in already knowing what they will bring me.

They show me.

They begin creating the transmission and bring me into the frequency, support and tools I need to meet what is consuming me in that moment.

Vicki is usually the first person who needs the transmission.

I receive it from within the experience—not after I have risen above it and found all the answers.

Ngahekah chose to experience life through this body: the bodysuit created for my life as Vicki, with its own personality, interests, desires and very human experiences.

It isn’t my everyday Vicki creating the transmission.

Vicki is the one who needs it.

My team brings me into a universal frequency

That frequency meets a layer within our humanity that is ready to shift.

The way that frequency lands will look different for each of us.

For me, the story carrying it may be grief.

For you, it may be the end of a relationship, a change within your work, physical pain, uncertainty, or something else bringing the same underlying vibration to the surface.

The story is personal, but the frequency moving through it is universal.

As I receive the transmission, that frequency lands within my bodysuit.

It becomes energy in action.

New abilities come on board, and new tools and techniques begin to take shape.

I experience and learn how to work with them first.

Then I can share them through my sessions, teachings and transmissions to support you.

I remain fully present inside my body while this happens.

My senses are still active. I can feel my breath, hear the sounds around me and sense what is happening physically.

I am still Vicki.

But I am also connected to something larger than the grief, pain, challenge or thoughts consuming me in that moment.

That is how my transmissions come through.

The transmission I received

This transmission was a remembering of my light and my team’s light.

The energy was very feminine.

Archangel Jophiel was with me.

They took me into a sacred space of pure love where, for a brief moment, I was immersed in their golden light.

For me, Jophiel comes through when I need support to remember myself.

A gentle reminder of what I am, who I am, and what I have to offer beyond the human pain and suffering I am experiencing.

The transmission was quick in human time.

But when you are within the frequency of a transmission, you are beyond our usual awareness of time and space. So much can happen there, far faster than the ego mind could ever interpret or explain.

That was all it took—a moment.

When my awareness returned to the physical space around me, I was different.

My vibration carried a subtle golden hum.

My mind still flickered in and out of the darkness throughout the rest of the day, but it was like someone was standing beside the light switch, turning it straight back on each time the darkness returned.

It interrupted the darkness before it could completely pull me back in.

They are more than a technique

My transmissions aren’t a ten-minute “how-to” teaching you a technique.

They are a space to come into your breath, slow down into your body and open to a vibration that is bigger than your physical form and the reality you are experiencing at that moment.

For me, that frequency is love.

It is light.

But it doesn’t pretend the darkness isn’t there.

It doesn’t ask me to think positively, overcome my grief or become someone untouched by what has happened.

It meets me exactly where I am.

When I slow down and acknowledge the state of despair or difficulty I find myself in, something begins to shift.

Not because the grief disappears.

Not because the challenge has magically resolved itself.

But because I am no longer alone inside it.

There is more space around what I am experiencing. There is more breath, more of me present and more support available to help me find my way through.

That is what I need most.

Not to be taken out of the experience, but to be resourced enough to meet it.

Bearing down

This is part of the reality of grief, motherhood and losing a child.

Living on when you don’t want to, while knowing that you need to—and that you will.

There is a strength required that isn’t bright, polished or particularly inspiring.

It is raw.

It is physical.

It is instinctive.

A mother bears down to bring her child into the world.

After losing that child, she bears down again—this time to remain in it.

That is the place many of my transmissions come from.

They are not created from a life without darkness. They are created within those moments when I call in the support I need to stay, breathe and fight my way through another day.

I receive them first.

Then I share them with you.

Transmissions to Support You

These two transmissions came through one after the other from the experiences I have shared within this post.

You don’t need to understand anything or follow a technique. Find somewhere comfortable, come into your breath and allow yourself to receive whichever transmission feels right for you today.

Return to Your Light

A spiritual transmission for the dark and difficult days—when you need support to shift your current vibration and reconnect with your own light.

When Grief Lives in the Body

A deeper transmission for the grief and reality of loss held within the body, supporting you through frequency and light language without asking you to explain, fix or move beyond what you are experiencing.

You can receive one or both. There is no right order—begin with the one you feel drawn to.

A session with me and our teams

If you’re moving through something difficult and feel you need more support, you’re welcome to check out private mentorship with me.

Together with our teams, we’ll create space for you to slow down, reconnect with yourself and receive the support you need to meet what you’re experiencing.

Explore Mentorship

My mentorship offers personal and spiritual support but is not an emergency or crisis service.

Please, if you need immediate support in New Zealand, call 111. You can also call or text 1737 at any time for free, confidential emotional support.